I'll Never Let You Go (Morgans of Nashville) (24 page)

“While you’re back there, have a look at the post-op cases. We have the broken leg, two neuters, and a female Dr. Nelson is going to spay in the morning. The owner dropped the dog off while you were in surgery. She’s sweet, and I know she could use a walk.”

“Sure. I’ll have a look.” Leah headed back to the kennel, where she found her patients. Most were still dazed from surgery and lying in the corners of their cages. The dog, however, saw her, barked, and tucked its tail.

Leah moved to the cage and, taking a leash from the wall, opened the cage and took it from the wall. She checked the dog’s chart. “Charlie, how’re you doing?”

The dog’s tail relaxed at the sound of her name but she kept barking. Laughing, Leah hooked the leash to the dog’s collar and took her out the back door. “You don’t have anything to worry about, Charlie.”

The afternoon air was warmer, the sun bright, but a snap of cold in the air triggered a shiver. She led the dog to a patch of grass behind the clinic. The dog sniffed and calmly looked up at her.

Leah shivered. “Come on, girl, let’s get the job done. I’m not wearing a fur coat.”

The dog wagged her tail and then dropped on her hind legs to pee.

“Bless you.”

To give the dog extra exercise, she led her around the front of the building. She glanced toward the parking lot and noticed that the black truck was gone. “It was a damn truck in a parking lot. You don’t need to freak out because it had tinted windows. Alex is wrong. Philip is dead.”

The dog looked up at her and wagged her tail.

Leah shrugged. “Dog, if you got to know me better, you’d realize I worry about everything. I write down all the crazy details of my day because I can’t stop worrying.”

The dog cocked her head.

She knelt down and rubbed the dog between the ears. The dog licked her face and she laughed. Moments like this, she’d give anything to cut Philip from her past. She wished she could go back in time and be distracted just long enough so that their first meeting never took place. She wished.

Leah rose and guided the dog back in the front door, welcoming the heat. She took Charlie back to her crate, filled her food and water bowls, and patted her on the head before she closed the crate.

She spent the next half hour examining the other patients, who were all recovering nicely.

It was after six by the end of her shift. Gail had closed the front office, shut off the lights, and locked the front door. Alone in the clinic, Leah shoved aside a feeling of unease. Her skin prickled and her belly tightened, as if someone was staring at her. Watching from the shadows, like Philip used to do.

She went into her office, checked her cell phone, and immediately noticed she’d received a voice mail from the South Carolina detective. Her nerves jangled as she checked the message. “Mrs. Latimer.” The moniker had her gritting her teeth. “I’ve been traveling and just got your voice mail message today. Your husband’s death investigation was an open-and-shut case. We have no reason to reopen it. I received an inquiry from a TBI agent and forwarded my files to him. Again, we ruled this an open-and-shut case.”

Leah waited, expecting a “Call me if you need more information” or “I’m here to answer your questions.” Neither came. Clearly, the detective had better things to do than answer her questions.

Leah sat down in her darkened office and replayed the message. Nervous energy snapped through her as she tried to imagine, if Philip were alive, where he would be. If he’d been alive these last four years, she’d had no sign of him, or any real hint that he was out there stalking her. The creepy, tingling kind of feeling she used to get when he stalked her had returned a couple of weeks ago, but she’d chalked it up to nerves, a new home, even the New Year’s resolutions that forced her out of her comfort zone. There’d been plenty of reasons for it not to be Philip.

Unable to sit, she rose and grabbed her coat and purse. Keys in hand, she left by the back door, which locked behind her. She crossed the parking lot, glancing into the deep, dark shadows and the backseat of her car before she slid inside, and immediately locked the doors. She switched on the ignition and started driving. The idea of going home to darkness and solitude triggered more tension, so she opted to drive to the mall, full of bright lights and people.

She parked in a well-lit spot and hurried through the cold. She entered through the food court and was immediately drawn to a table of teenage girls who were laughing over a pizza and Cokes. Near them, a mother fed her two toddlers chicken nuggets, while several tables over, an elderly couple ate Chinese food.

The normalcy of it all surprised her. These people appeared to be going on with their lives, unaware that monsters like Philip Latimer lived in their world. A part of her wanted to scream a warning to them all. Philip had done a good job of toying with her sanity and making her question every creak, shadow, and bump in the night. But to behave like a crazy person now would do her no good. She held her silence.

She moved to a vendor and ordered a hot tea and a cookie. After paying for both, she chose a seat backed up against a wall in the center of the food court. She sipped her tea, watching a young couple saunter past. Their hands were linked, and the girl leaned into the boy as if she drew energy from him. She found herself searching the young girl’s bare arms, neck, and face for bruises. When she saw none, her utter cynicism struck her. She’d been hoping for a new way of living and thinking, and in the blink of one conversation, she’d regressed four years.

She reached in her purse and pulled out her journal. Carefully, she began to detail the day. She recorded the incident with Tyler Radcliff and Alex, and of course the latter’s theory about Philip. The craving for a cigarette rose up in her, so sharp and strong she wondered if there was a drugstore nearby. She caught herself before she went hunting for one.

Curling and flexing her fingers, she reached for her phone and dialed the South Carolina detective’s number. Yep, she was officially a nag when it came to the whereabouts of Philip Latimer, but she figured she’d earned the right. Though the one-hour time difference between Nashville and Greenville ensured she wouldn’t reach a live person, she made the call regardless. Ranting at a voice mail would work for tonight. After the phone rang and she waited for the away message and the beep, she said, “This is Leah Carson. I dropped the Latimer name years ago. I would like a call back in the morning regarding Philip Latimer’s case. I would like to discuss the details of his accident. So give me the courtesy of a return call in the morning or I’ll be contacting your supervisor.” She hung up, her face flushed with frustration and a bit of worry over her tone.

Leah rose, slung her purse over her shoulder, and grabbed her tea and cookie. But instead of heading home right away, she headed toward the crowds.

“Leah Carson.”

Leah stiffened just for a moment at the sound of the voice. She turned to find Alex Morgan standing just feet from her. “Alex.”

“What brings you here?”

“Just grabbing a bite to eat.” She found herself smiling. “I wasn’t interested in going home. You don’t strike me as a mall rat.”

“God, no. I come here only when I must.” He held up a bag from a sports store. “I needed new running shoes.”

“Plausible, but I don’t buy it.”

“Why not?”

“I’ve been stalked before. I’m not the most trusting person.”

His gaze held steady. “Shoes really don’t last long when you’re training. A few months at best.” He leaned forward a fraction. “No more signs of Tyler Radcliff?”

“No. No signs. I’m hoping he was just venting his anger and grief.”

“Anything else catch your attention?”

“You mean like my dead husband coming back to stalk me?”

“Exactly.”

If she weren’t so scared, she’d laugh. “No. And he wouldn’t be that careless. He was clever and knew how to turn up the heat without it blowing back on him.”

Alex frowned. “Why do you think he’d lay low for four years?”

“He was scared. Found someone else to stalk. Was bored. I don’t pretend to understand him.”

“If you had to pin one reason down?”

“He’d hate the idea of prison. He might still want me dead, but he wouldn’t want to pay the price.” She shook her head, running a trembling hand over her head. “And I think he might have been fine to leave me be as long as I stayed in the shadows. My life was fairly isolated in Knoxville. Now I’m back in Nashville. I have a good job. Friends. And I had a date; just one, but a date. He would hate that. Hate it.”

“You think another date would upset him?”

“It would.”

“Then let’s have dinner.”

She studied him. “This business or pleasure, Agent?”

He smiled. “Pleasure. But I won’t lie. If I can catch a bad guy, that’s icing on the cake.”

“You’re honest, I’ll give you that. I’ll take you up on the date after this is over. Then we’ll know for sure it’s pleasure.”

He nodded. “Do you have my phone number in your phone?”

“I do.”

“Good. Don’t hesitate to call.”

“You’ll get the first call if a crazed man with a knife appears.” The morbid joke undercut some of the fear.

“You have a ride to the running group tomorrow?”

“I can drive myself.” She rose. “So, are you going to follow me around until Philip’s status is resolved?”

He stood and moved closer until she could feel the energy radiating from his body. “Yes.”

She studied him, trying to gauge the depth of his commitment. One thing to say you’d help, it’s another to do it. “If you’ve done your digging, you know our anniversary is January twenty-fifth.”

“Yes.”

“He’d see a certain symmetry in killing me on our wedding anniversary.”

“I know.”

“So what do we do?”

“For the next few days either I or one of my men will shadow you.”

“This is the part where I tell you not to worry about me. I’m supposed to declare I can take care of myself. But I’m not going to do that. Follow me all you want.”

He took her arm with his hand and gently tugged her toward him until only a sliver of space separated them. He leaned his head forward to kiss her. Fear and excitement gripped her, but she held steady. Despite everything, she wanted this. Wanted to know what he tasted like.

He tilted his head and pressed his lips to hers. She raised her hand to his arm, and her fingers gripped the folds of his jacket. The kiss, tentative at first, grew a bit more insistent. She rose on her tiptoes but resisted the urge to wrap her arm around his neck. In the distance, she heard young girls giggling at their display. That thought led to another . . . was Philip watching?

She pulled back, moistening her lips with her tongue. For an instant, her voice seemed to have fluttered away and she couldn’t speak. She cleared her throat. “Was that business, too?”

Alex traced the line of her lip with his thumb before allowing his hand to drop possessively to her shoulder. His touch sent shivers through her body. “Definitely pleasure.”

 

 

He wasn’t a fan of the mall. He didn’t like the crowds or the noise. So much going on that it could overwhelm the senses. But Leah was here, so he followed. While she ate her cookie, he treated himself to a hamburger and fries across from her. A group of giggling girls at the table beside him had him remembering the first time he’d seen his wife.

She’d been with a group of her friends, and though some of the other girls were pretty, his gal had stood out to him like a beacon. He’d known from the moment he’d seen her that he wanted her. And so he’d set about following her. Not in a creepy, malicious way. He didn’t want to scare her. But he’d made a point of figuring out the places she liked, and he managed to be there. Soon he’d had her schedule down pat, so it became only a matter of time before they bumped into each other.

Now, as he watched Leah kiss this man, old memories soured. Leah, like Deidre, was a fickle creature. They were users. One marriage ended and they moved on to the next.

He balled up his napkin and threw it on the remnants of the burger and fries. As tempted as he was to attack her tonight, he quieted the desire.
Move with patience and care. Slow and steady wins the race.

She’d have seen the dog by now. No way she couldn’t love that damn dog. Hell, he almost missed the mutt who’d stared at him with dopey, adoring eyes.

He rose and spotted another couple talking. The man clearly was attracted to the woman and the woman, though tentative, clearly liked him, too. A stab of envy sliced through him, and he knew, despite his slow and steady mantra, he’d get a pound of someone’s flesh soon.

Chapter Seventeen

 

A flat tire was the last thing David needed. He rushed out of his apartment across the lot, and when he spotted the tire he swore.

David was running late for work. The morning run had gone long and he’d lingered at the coffee shop after that, flirting with the redhead who worked behind the bar. And now the damn tire was flat and he not only had briefs to file that morning, he had to make an appearance in court. With the cops asking him questions, he didn’t need any more trouble.

He fished his cell out of his pocket, ready to call AAA, when he saw the truck pull up behind him and the driver roll down the window. “You need a hand?”

David nodded, praising his dumb luck. “Hell yes, man. There’s fifty bucks in it for you.”

Grinning, the man leaned on the steering wheel. Rolled-up sleeves revealed tattooed forearms. “I’ll have it changed for you in ten minutes.”

“That’s great,” David said. “This flat was such bad timing.”

“Isn’t it always?”

The driver got out and moved to the back of his truck. From a built-in silver toolbox, he removed a jack and a tire iron. “You look like you’re in a rush.”

David glanced up from his cell, already distracted, and reminded himself to be nice. He needed this guy. “I am. So much to get done, and now this. I’m lucky you happened along.”

“Lucky is right. I’d just finished my shift and was headed home.”

David’s halfhearted interest in conversation hummed behind his need for quick help with the tire. “You live in this area?”

“Not too far from here.” The driver jacked up the car and quickly and easily removed the lug nuts. Soon, the flat tire was off and the spare from the trunk seated on the hub.

Be friendly. Make conversation.
He didn’t have time for AAA. “Do you think I picked up a nail?”

“Naw, man. Someone sliced the tire.”

“What?”

The driver ran a finger along a neat, clean slice. “Right here. You must have pissed someone off.”

That had him sliding the phone back in his pocket. “Why do you say that?”

A grin tugged at his full lips. “You see any other flat tires in the lot?”

David glanced around and realized he was the only one with the issue. Shit.
Had
he pissed someone off? If not for Deidre’s death, he’d never have clung to worry. A first glance at the driver’s badge gave him a name: Brian. Brian was his only ally on this cold, shitty morning.

“Brian, I appreciate the help.”

Strong, callused hands screwed on the lug nuts before he reached for the tire iron. “No worries, man.”

“You from Nashville?”

“I’m new to Nashville. Been here a few weeks. How about you? You been here long?”

“All my life.” He watched as Brian finished. A little more small talk. “I’m an attorney.”

“I figured you were some kind of hotshot. Nice suit.”

David caught the man’s grin, his tone more teasing. He fished fifty bucks from his pocket as Brian lowered the jack. When David opened the trunk, Brian loaded the flat tire in the trunk bed.

Closing the trunk with a hard slam, Brian took a rag from his back pocket and wiped the grease from his hands and the trunk hood. “You’re good to go.”

David handed over the cash. “Thanks, man. I really do appreciate it.”

Brian pocketed the money. “The extra cash will come in handy. Just bought a necklace for my wife and spent a little more than I should’ve.” He grinned. “Happy wife, happy life.”

“No truer words, Brian.”

“You got a wife?”

“We’re separated. Trying to work it out.”

A slow, thoughtful nod conveyed understanding. “That’s rough. My wife and I are separated, too. But we’re getting back together. Made it through the fire, so to speak.”

David had no desire to rekindle the flame with his wife. He liked being single. Playing the field. “Nothing better than a solid marriage.”

“Ain’t that a fact.”

The tire change complete, David’s interest skittered back to the office. He opened his car door. “Thanks again, man. I appreciate the help.”

Brian flashed a wide grin. “Glad I could help.”

He watched David drive away, proud of himself for not killing him. Today, at least. It would have been easy to jab a knife in his gut, watch him fall to his knees, and bleed out in the parking lot. It sure had been easy enough to slice his tire.

Sliding his hands in his pockets, he fingered the pocketknife he’d jabbed in the tire hours ago. But killing David wasn’t part of the plan. Yet.

 

 

Minutes past eight, Deke made his way down the narrow, rocky path that led to the river and the two forensic technicians working the scene. Georgia was on the job today, wearing a thick black skullcap, heavy coveralls that read F
ORENSICS
on the back, and thick, steel-toed boots. She held a digital camera to her eye and focused on a numbered yellow cone placed next to what looked like a severed hand. The other tech, Brad Holcombe, was a tall slim guy with blond hair. He also wore a thick black skullcap. Dark plastic gloves covered his hands.

“Georgia,” he said.

“Give me a minute, Deke.” She snapped a couple more rapid-fire photos and then turned to Brad, who held a clipboard in his hand. “You got that marked on your area map?”

He was in his early thirties, but all traces of the fresh-faced guy who’d joined the force five years earlier had vanished. The job had aged him. “I do.”

“Great. Take five. Drink hot coffee. I’ll finish up here.”

Brad tossed Georgia a grateful grin. “Thanks.”

She faced Deke. Her nose glowed red from the cold. “Great way to start a day.”

He thought about the warm bed he’d left, in which he’d been nestled close to Rachel. She’d accepted his ring last night, and he’d been filled with hope and joy. He’d had very different plans for this morning, but the job had its own ideas. “I can think of better.”

“Join the club.”

“I see a hand.”

She nodded and pointed. “A hand there. Near the river’s edge a foot, and a few yards west is another hand. And there’s no torso or head. But then, I hear you found a torso a few days ago.”

“Stands to reason we have a matched set, but we shall see. Any idea who the guy might be?”

She sniffed, her nose runny from the cold. “Not a clue. But these cold-as-hell temperatures have kept the remains intact, and I was able to pull a clean print from the index finger. Who knows, our guy might have prints on file.”

“Anything you can tell me about him?”

“He had calluses on his palms, and the foot was still encased in sneakers. Nothing remarkable about the shoe. The thumb looked as if it had been broken a long time ago.”

“Any idea how he was killed?”

“Not a clue. That’s for the lovely Dr. Heller to decipher.”

“If he’s a match to our John Doe in the morgue, it was a gunshot to the chest.”

“That will do it.”

Deke moved down the edge of the river and studied the yellow cone that marked the spot where the other hand lay. Even in the cold it had already degraded and could easily have been overlooked as not human. “Was he in the water?”

“I’d say so. My guess is the parts were first tossed into a bag and then into the river. Everyone thinks the river will keep their secrets, but it doesn’t take much for the bag to tear and its contents to float to the top. Head is likely out there somewhere.”

“If these parts connect to my body, why leave it exposed in one location and dump the hands and feet in the river?”

She shrugged. “Maybe our killer likes a puzzle.”

The torso. The bag with Deidre’s card. Now the hands and a foot. Felt more like a trail of bread crumbs.

“How long has he been out here?”

“That’s hard to say. Cold distorts everything. Maybe the prints will match a missing persons report.”

He grinned. “Thanks for the tip.”

“Always here to help, bro.”

He rose, his joints creaking as he straightened. “Don’t know what I’d do without you.”

She raised a gloved hand and gave him a thumbs-up. “Keep me posted on what the medical examiner says. This one is a curiosity.”

“Will do.”

 

 

Leah didn’t sleep well the night before. Alex had followed her home from the mall, and as he pulled away, a police cruiser had parked in front of her town house. Two hours later, when she saw another set of headlights flash through her window, she’d risen and peeked through the curtain. Another cop car arrived, the officers spoke, and then the first car drove away, leaving the new guy to babysit.

Fatigue itched her eyes as she arrived at the clinic early to walk the dogs. She and Dr. Nelson traded shifts, and today was her day on. They had three patients in the kennel: a cat that had been injured in a fight, the dog that had been hit by the car, and the black dog, the spay from yesterday.

The black dog, the healthiest of the three, barked and wagged her tail when Leah entered the kennel. The cat meowed and the dog with the broken leg looked up at her, then went back to sleep. Dr. Nelson had told her the dog remained on heavy painkillers and would be slow for a few more days. The good news was, he was going home today.

She moved to the black dog’s cage, smiling as she got closer. The dog, Charlie, barked, clearly excited to see her. She grabbed a leash from the rack by the back door and opened the dog’s crate. The young dog bounded out of the cage and into Leah’s arms. Laughing, she quickly slipped a collar and leash around its neck and led her out back. Despite the cold, the dog barked and jumped, grateful to be free. She quickly took care of her business. Leah, pleased with the dog’s quick recovery, took her around the parking lot, letting her sniff and dig in the dirt before the cold forced her back inside.

While Charlie watched, she cleaned out the dog’s crate and set fresh food and water in there for her. The dog eagerly went back into the crate and ate.

Leah closed the crate door and checked the dog’s chart. No complications. No issues. So why hadn’t the owner returned for her?

By the time Leah had cleaned out the cages and fed the other animals, Gail arrived.

“So what’s with the Lab?” Leah couldn’t hide her interest. “Where’s the owner?”

“I don’t know. I called three times yesterday and never got an answer. I don’t know if there’s a problem, or maybe he decided the bill was too much for him.”

Leah frowned. This dog wouldn’t be the first abandoned at the vet when a bill couldn’t be paid. “That’s too bad.”

“From what Dr. Nelson said, the guy was a little odd. On the way in and out, he kept looking around the clinic, as if he were searching for something.”

“Like what?” Vet clinics had to be careful of drug thefts; many of the meds they used were stored on-site.

“I don’t know. But I double-checked the medicine supply room and made sure it was locked before I left each day.”

“Give me his number and I’ll call him.”

Gail moved to the front office and dug the number from a file in the active clients bin.

Leah took the phone and dialed. The phone rang once, twice, and then, on the third ring, she got a message: “This is Brian. I can’t take your call right now, but leave a number. I’ll call back.”

Leah listened to the deep voice, half-searching for traces of Philip’s voice, but found none. “Brian, this is Dr. Carson at the Nelson Animal Hospital. We have your dog here and she’s ready to go home. Would you come by today, or better yet, call us this morning so we’ll know when to expect you.” She rattled off the number and hung up. “We’ll see if that gets results.”

“Like I said, I left three messages for the guy and he’s yet to call me back.”

“Just seems odd.” Black dogs were common but this one reminded her of a dog she once wanted when she was married to Philip. The owner vanishes. Dogs and cats were abandoned by pet owners all the time. But none of this felt ordinary.

 

 

As Leah left the voice-mail message, he sat in front of his computer, watching a live feed of her standing in the office of the vet hospital. She’d washed her hair and dried it, leaving it to hang loose and full around her face. He’d always loved the touch of her hair after it had been freshly washed and dried. So soft. He wondered if Leah’s hair smelled of roses or honeysuckle.

He replayed the message on his cell phone and listened to her voice. She was sexy. Hot. And he couldn’t wait until they stood face-to-face.

He glanced at the calendar. Their anniversary was in four days and he’d bring this little adventure to an end. He touched his fingertip to the screen and traced it over the curve of her jaw and along the column of her neck.