In His Sights (3 page)

“It was that morning while we were out—I'm positive.
The house was fine when we left, and when we came back there was glass all over the front porch. Son of a bitch had broken out the side glass and reached in to unlock the door.”

“Broad daylight, entering from the front? Pretty bold.” Chris exchanged a look with his partner before returning his attention to the other man. “Okay. And when you looked around, was anything missing?”

“If he did take anything, it wasn't valuable. All of our electronics, our stash of cash in the bedroom—everything was still there. But there was something weird.” He paused, as though remembering.

“What was that?”

“Stuff was moved, just slightly. We could tell because of the dust on the furniture. The lamp, some pictures, things like that. Like whoever broke in picked up certain items, examined them, and then put them back. But he didn't care if we noticed, because he didn't put them back exactly the same way.”

“That's really odd,” Tonio put in with a frown.

“Tell me about it.” Mr. Fell sighed. “It really upset us, especially Sarah, God rest her.”

There really wasn't much else George Fell could relate to them, so they politely took their leave a couple of minutes later.

“That was strange,” Chris said as they climbed back into the Taurus. “Not Mr. Fell, but the burglary.”

“Yeah. That's a pretty ballsy way to commit a break-in, during the day when he couldn't be sure how long they'd be gone, right on the front porch. And then to not take anything? It doesn't make sense.”

“And if it's the same guy, there's a whole list of them just like that one.” Chris lifted the sheet of addresses. “What the hell is he after?”

“Got no clue. Maybe he's a voyeur? Like, one of those underwear sniffers.”

Chris barked a laugh. “God, I need bleach for my brain.”

Tonio smiled, shook his head. “Next address?”

“Pauline Nicholson, one block over.”

“Hmm. Pretty close to Mr. Fell's address. Maybe we should take a city map and place pins on the location of each home. See if there's a pattern.”

“Now that's good thinkin',
Sherlock
,” he drawled, throwing the term back at his partner.

The visit with Mrs. Nicholson and the next two victims as well turned out pretty much the same—not much info, and what there was didn't compute. Like items in the house being moved and the lack of theft . . .

All in all, it made for a long, tedious day. At the end of their shift, Chris was tired, but at least his headache had subsided.

By the time he fell into bed that night, he'd managed to convince himself that today had simply been a slight relapse.

Nothing more.

Dragging himself out of bed the next morning before sunrise, Chris ignored the aches and pains he shouldn't have been feeling and slipped on his warm-up pants and a T-shirt.

Today he decided to forgo working out at the gym in favor of going for a walk through his neighborhood. He felt fine, he told himself. He could do something more strenuous if he wanted to, but walking was just as good. And he liked his peaceful neighborhood of modest homes with their trim lawns. Taylor lived a few streets over, so maybe he'd even walk that far and bum a cup of coffee.

As he went along, he let the peace and quiet seep into his bones. He'd like to get a dog to walk with him. But while he loved animals and a dog would make a great companion, he worked too much and his hours sometimes ran long. It wasn't fair to a pup to leave it alone so often. The knowledge made him a little sad.

The sun began to peek over the horizon, and the streetlamps shut off. He hadn't been out all that long, but his limbs were starting to feel heavy and sweat trickled
down his back. The headache returned as a low, ominous throb and his stomach lurched.

“Shit.” Disappointed, he cut his walk short and turned down the next street he came to so he could head back home.

But with every step, the symptoms got worse. This didn't bode well for the rest of his day. Damn, he couldn't afford to miss any more work. His body didn't get the message, however, and halfway down the street he was forced to stop. Thrusting out a hand, he braced himself against a light pole and stood with his head down, panting, desperately trying to stave off being sick. Or passing out.

“Hey, mister! You okay?”

Straightening, he looked for the owner of that sweet little voice and turned. His gaze drifted downward to the cutest kid, a girl who appeared to be about seven or so. She had her brunette hair in a ponytail held on top of her head with a pink scrunchie thing, and wore a matching pink top, a backpack that was way too big, and jeans. Her small face was frowning at him, her concern clear.

“I'm all right, sweetheart,” he said, mustering a smile. “Just got a bit winded.”

“Oh.” She seemed to consider this very seriously. “You want my mommy to take your temp-ra-ture? She's a doctor!”

What an angel. “Oh, no, that won't be necessary—”

“Madeline Jane, wait for me! And you forgot your lunch box again!” a woman's voice called. “I swear— Oh. Who are you talking to, honey?”

Chris raised his eyes to peer over the child—and forgot to breathe.

Staring back at him, holding a pink lunch box, was the most beautiful woman he'd ever seen. She was about five foot seven and had straight, silky auburn hair that fell to her shoulders. A fitted black shirt hugged her curves, emphasizing a mouthwatering busty figure that tapered to a small waist. Gray dress pants showed off long legs with just a hint of the strong thighs underneath.

As she approached, locking gazes with him, he took in the wariness in her vivid blue eyes. “Maddy, who's this?” she asked mildly, but with an unmistakable hint of warning directed at him.

“I don't know, Mommy. But he doesn't feel good,” Maddy informed her mom. “You should take his temp-ra-ture.”

“Maybe so.” The woman stopped, handed over the lunch box, and wrapped her arms around her child, pulling Maddy's back against her front. A clearly protective stance. “But what have I told you about talking to strangers?”

Maddy dipped her head. “Sorry.”

“We'll talk about it more later.” She hugged her daughter in reassurance, then addressed Chris, holding out a hand. “Hello, I'm Robyn.”

He shook it, a bit disappointed that she didn't share her last name. He decided to share more in his introduction. As he let go of her hand, he reached into the pocket of his warm-ups, removed his badge, and held it up. “Chris Ford. I'm a detective with the Sugarland PD.” He smiled. “You and Maddy are both perfectly safe in my presence. Honest.”

With that, the steel in her expression softened some. “Nice to meet you, Detective.”

“Chris, please.”

She nodded, but made no commitment either way. “So, you're not feeling well? Would you like to sit down on my steps? I can take a look at you or call someone to come get you.”

He shook his head. “No, thanks. I just needed to catch my breath. I've been out of commission and this is only my fourth day back at work. Guess I've got to build up my strength again.”

Her eyes narrowed, and she seemed to see right through him. “You don't look well. You're pale, and you're holding on to that light pole as though it's the only thing keeping you upright.”

Abruptly, he pushed away from it as though it had burned him. “No, really I'm fine. But I'd better be on my way if I don't want to be late.”

“Well, if you're sure . . .” She wasn't convinced. “I was just about to take Maddy to school. Would you like a ride home?”

He opened his mouth to refuse—and then thought better of it. One, he wasn't sure he'd make it. And two, he really wanted more time in Robyn's presence. “Sure, that would be great. Thanks.”

“No problem.” To Maddy, she said, “Would you run in and get my purse and keys? They're on the table.”

“Sure!”

The girl ran inside, and Chris took the opportunity to speak privately. “I'm sorry if I scared you when you saw
her talking to me. I was just resting for a minute and she surprised me.”

“It's all right. No matter how I caution her, Maddy is a social butterfly.” The woman gave him a real smile, and almost blinded him. “I'm Dr. Robyn Lassiter, by the way.”

By God, she was gorgeous.

His mouth stretched into a wide, answering smile. “Nice to meet you, Dr. Lassiter.”

“Just Robyn.”

He was getting the feeling there was no Mr. Lassiter in the picture, but he couldn't be sure. How could he subtly find out?

All too fast, the little girl returned, swinging the purse and keys, and handed them to her mother.

“Ready, sweet pea?”

“Yep!” To Chris, she proudly said, “I'm in first grade!”

“Is that so?” He widened his eyes, looking impressed. “You're a big girl, then.”

“Yep.”

“Yes, sir,” Robyn corrected the little girl.

Maddy sighed. “Yes, sir.”

Something about these two made him feel warm inside. Better than he had in a long time. Maddy scrambled into the back of the car as though she was used to riding there, which was safer given her size and the air bags in the front. Chris climbed into the passenger's seat and buckled up. Once they were on their way, he gave directions to his house.

“You live pretty close by,” Robyn commented.

“Yeah. I feel stupid catching a ride when I live five streets away.”

“That's not what I meant. I don't mind at all.”

When she pulled up in front of his house a few moments later, he turned. “Speaking of strangers, my partner and I are giving the Stranger Danger program to each of the first-grade classes starting next week. Maybe I'll see you and Maddy there.” To Maddy, he turned and said in a conspiratorial voice, “I'm bringing Valor the Crime Dog.”

“Yay! Can you come, Mommy?”

Put on the spot, Robyn bit her lip. “I can't promise, but I'll try.”

Thank Jesus for this shitty assignment and even the smelly suit.

That was the best he was going to get, so it was time to bow out gracefully. “Thank you for the ride. Hopefully I'll see you two soon.”

She smiled, but the shadows were back. “We'll see. Good to meet you, Chris.”

“You, too.” Winking, he got out and headed inside, glancing back once as she drove away. He wanted to know more about this gorgeous lady, and he didn't want her to go. Too bad they hadn't had time for coffee.

On the bright side, she'd called him by his first name. They lived nearby, so he could just
happen
to walk her direction again. And he'd be at her daughter's school soon.

It would do for a start.

*   *   *

Robyn's cell phone buzzed in her coat pocket and she pulled it out, leaning back in the chair in her office. Every second of the day had been packed, so it figured she'd get a call the one time she sat down.

On the other hand, looking at the display, she saw this was one call she had been waiting for. She answered quickly. “This is Dr. Robyn Lassiter.”

“Dr. Lassiter, this is Dr. Laura Eden, Medical Examiner. I'm calling back about the message you left for me earlier.”

“Yes, thank you for getting back to me so quickly.”

“To be honest, your call underscored what's been nagging me for a while now. My team and I have seen reports of a higher than normal number of fatal heart attacks over the past few months. I haven't mentioned them to the police, however, because there was no indication of crime.”

“Meaning the deaths appeared to be natural.”

“Correct.” Eden paused. “But now I'm beginning to wonder.”

“So am I. At first, it was easy to overlook them, because there are various ER doctors here and we had no reason to compare notes about heart attack victims. Even if we had, we might have dismissed them as a coincidence. But now? My most recent patient died with no history of heart trouble, and one of the nurses brought the subject to my attention. That's when I started investigating, and the recent numbers are alarming.”

“I crunched some numbers on my end as well. My office saw twenty-three deaths classified as heart attacks by this time last year, compared to forty-seven this year. That's a one hundred four percent increase.”

Robyn sat back in her chair, shocked. “So what do we do?”

“I'll look up the recent victims' addresses and places of death, and make a call to the police departments involved. I can make them aware of our concern, but unless they can gather enough evidence to open an investigation and give me cause to exhume the remains and perform further tests, it's out of my hands.”

“That's not right.”

“I know.” The medical examiner's voice was harried. “But for now it's the best we can do.”

“All right. Thank you for taking this on.”

“Not a problem. If there's something sinister going on, the victims' families deserve to know.”

“Yes, they do. Call me if you need anything at all.”

“Will do.”

They hung up, and Robyn sat at her desk contemplating the conversation. What the hell could be causing that many deaths? Mass contamination of some kind? Something in the city's water? That didn't seem likely, considering that the water system was highly monitored, with a number of safeguards to assure quality. Contrary to what conspiracy theorists would have people believe, it would be virtually impossible to directly corrupt a city's water supply.

Then what could it be?

A knock at the door broke into her musings, and she looked up to see Shea Skyler standing just inside her office.

“Hey, come in.” She smiled at the nurse who had also become a good friend since she and Maddy had moved to Sugarland two years earlier. “What's up?”

The curly-headed brunette moved into the room and sat in a chair on the other side of Robyn's desk. “Just dropping by to be sure you're still coming to the party tonight.”

“Oh, I don't know,” she hedged. “It's been a long week, and the sitter has plans.”

“Why on earth would you need a sitter when it's just a backyard cookout? Bring Maddy along!”

“I just don't want to impose.”

“Are you hearing yourself? There will be plenty of people there to spoil her. She'll have fun, so why would you want to deny her
or
yourself a good time?”

One corner of her mouth hitched up. “You really know how to hit where I live.” Maddy was her weakness. Her joy. How could she keep her baby from having fun?

“You bet I do. So bring her.” Shea paused, her expression softening. “You've got to stop hiding from the world eventually. Don't say no this time. Please?”

Letting out a sigh, she nodded. “Okay, I'll be there.”

“Great!” The happiness on her friend's face made her smile.

“Seven?”

“Or before. Come as soon as you can, and don't worry about bringing anything. Shane and Tommy have all the food and drinks covered.”

Shea's husband, Tommy, was a former firefighter/paramedic who worked for the fire marshal's office. Shane, she recalled, was Shea's twin brother who'd recently married and had a seventeen-year-old godson he was raising. Shane was a detective at the Sugarland PD.

Shane
Ford
. A click suddenly sounded in her head, a puzzle piece falling into place.

“Say, do you or Shane know a guy named
Chris
Ford?”

Shea blinked at her. “Um, yeah. Chris is our cousin, and he and Shane work together. How do you know Chris?”

Her mind whirled. Shane and the hottie from yesterday morning were related. “I don't, really. He was out walking yesterday morning and apparently wasn't feeling well, so he stopped in front of my house to rest. I was getting ready to drive Maddy to school and I looked out, saw her talking to a stranger, and I freaked for a minute. He turned out to be a nice guy, and we introduced ourselves.”

“Really? Oh my God—Chris is such a sweetheart!” Shea enthused. “He's funny, smart, handsome, and better yet,
single
. I can't believe I never thought to fix you guys up!”

Robyn laughed, her interest spiking. “Do tell!”

“And he's kind of had it rough lately— Wait. You said he was sick yesterday?” Her expression morphed to worry. “He was just released from the hospital a few days ago. We thought he was on the mend.”

“I don't know if he was actually sick, but he was pale and definitely had run out of steam during his walk. I drove him home.”