Picture Me Dead (45 page)

The singing would stop soon. The place would be swarming with police.

4:00 a.m.

The place had been swarming with cops for hours. The sirens had screamed; lights had blazed; rescue vehicles had come and gone. Both John and Stuart had been rushed to the hospital. Mary Simmons, shaken, had still calmly answered every question with steadfast honesty. She'd admitted to her part in the kidnapping, apologizing profusely. It didn't matter if she went to jail or not, she said. She'd done what she had to. Her beliefs compelled her to act to save Stuart's life, because she knew the killers wouldn't stop trying to get him.

Despite her part in the affair—and the fact that, at a later date, the D.A.'s office might press charges—Mary Simmons was at last allowed to return home.

Jake seemed to have more explaining to do than Mary. Ashley heard some of it, though not all. He was taken to task for not informing his own captain of his intended actions, and he explained over and over again that the only way he could be certain he wasn't bringing in one of the very men who meant to kill Stuart Fresia was by reaching outside the department.

He didn't seem to mind explaining, and he kept his temper. Perhaps because everyone realized that a brutal murderer had at last been brought to justice in the swamps, and a major drug ring busted, he was only verbally reprimanded.

There were a few moments when he sat at the back of a police wagon with Ashley and said, “What I really dread now is the paperwork.”

She set a hand on his knee, telling him, “I'm so sorry.”

He was silent for a moment, then shrugged. “I really didn't want to kill him. Not just because we're still not sure who his partner, the one with all the money, is, but because…I always thought that if I found the person who killed Nancy, I'd want to rip his throat out. But Nancy believed in the law. And I found out tonight that I do, too. I didn't want to kill him. I wanted him to stand trial for what he did. I'm sick at the thought that a man the public trusted, a man I worked with day in and day out, could be so brutal, so devious. Now there will be an inquest, this will all be in the papers, and good cops will suffer because one cop was bad.” He met her eyes, his expression haunted.

“Cops have gone bad before, and I know they'll go bad again. But it's not the norm. And I hate that people will think it is. And when I think about it, I'm sick all over again, because if anyone should have been able to see Marty for what he was, to recognize him…it was me.”

She had a feeling there was nothing she could say that would make him feel any better regarding Marty. She curled her fingers around his. “You saved my life. Your timing was incredible.”

His fingers closed around hers. A half smile curved his lips. “I hate to admit it, but you were doing pretty well on your own.”

“I couldn't have outrun him forever. He had a gun, I didn't.”

He was quiet for a long time. “You know, eventually you really should finish at the academy.”

She smiled, but she had no chance to respond, because Captain Blake was back; he needed Jake again.

It was another hour before they were able to leave. Marty's body had been removed to the morgue, and the drug smugglers had been taken to headquarters where they would be questioned for hours.

She was glad to see that, despite the fact that there was still a piece of the puzzle missing, Jake was determined to leave things to the other members of the department, and especially to the men in the task force.

He drove his own car. Nick was in the back; Ashley sat up front with Jake. When they reached home at last, Nick got out of the car first, and when Ashley and Jake crawled out more slowly, Nick said to no one in particular, “Okay, even I know this is one weird request.” He turned and looked at Jake. “Just sleep in my house tonight, will you? I'd like to know you're both close.” He stepped ahead of them then, twisting his key in the lock and entering the house.

Ashley felt a cool breeze stir her hair. It would still be a while until sunrise. She wished she weren't so exhausted, that she could make it to watch morning come.

“So…what do you say? Mind sleeping in the house?” she asked. “It's not that I'm the nervous type, but hey…there's nothing like backup.”

“Everyone needs backup,” he said softly. “Besides, the opportunity to see your room is a definite temptation. Hey, do I get the first shower?”

“Um,” she said thoughtfully. “I'm not that magnanimous. How about
sharing
the first shower?”

“It'll do.”

As it happened, they were both sporting a number of bruises and sawgrass cuts. They pointed them out to one another, then did things to make them feel better. When they emerged, the laughter stopped suddenly, and they stared at one another for several long moments.

“So…this is your bed, huh?”

“This is it.”

“Ashley.”

“Hmm?”

He wound his arms around her, buried his face against her neck, held her tightly. And began to move.

She had thought she was exhausted, but it was amazing just how awake, aware and vehemently energetic she could become.

Later, they remained together, side by side, yet curled together as one. She felt his fingers against her hair, gently smoothing it back.

“I have to admit, I'm probably always going to be a bit of a chauvinist asshole where you're concerned.”

“That's all right. I'll just keep putting you in your place.”

“Just so long as you know.”

She sat up suddenly, looking toward the windows.

“The sun is about to rise.”

“It rises every morning.”

“This morning, I'd like to see it.”

Jake's clothing was caked with muck; he had to resort to one of her bathrobes, but he did so with only a slight grimace.

They sat on the dock together. She leaned against his shoulder. “It's so beautiful. I've never seen that shade between gold and red before.”

“I have.”

“Oh?”

“It's the color of your hair.”

She looked up and met his eyes then smiled.

“This is scary as hell, but…”

“Spit it out, Detective.”

“I'm falling in love with you, Ashley.”

She rested her head against his shoulder again. “Well, Detective, you should have figured this one out. I've already fallen in love with you. I think it all started the minute I spilled that coffee on you.”

“Ashley, have we seen enough of the sunrise?”

She smiled. “You bet. You look good in a business suit, in your cutoffs…but man, when you're wearing my pink robe…”

He let out a laugh, stood and pulled her to her feet.

The sun had risen fully by the time they fell asleep.

 

Late Sunday afternoon, they awoke. Ashley, opening her eyes, saw that he was already awake and staring up at the ceiling.

“What's wrong?” she murmured.

He laced his fingers behind his head. “I keep thinking about who Marty's partner was. I keep trying to do the Sherlock Holmes thing. You know—eliminate the impossible, and what's left, no matter how implausible, has to be the answer. I can't seem to eliminate anyone.”

“From…?”

“Being on the
Gwendolyn.
Being the money—and power—behind the murders and the drugs.”

Ashley hesitated. “Sharon has been acting very strangely.”

“Sharon?” he said skeptically.

“You don't think it could be her? She's got money—don't know how much, but her wardrobe is probably worth more than what a cop makes in a year. She was the one who sold those properties, and she was the first one to recognize Cassie Sewell from my drawing. Are you doubting she could be guilty because she's a woman?”

“No, I've known too many brutal and cunning acts perpetrated by women for that. And you could be right,” he said. Suddenly, he rose, heading for the shower. He spun to face her. “Don't you dare join me. We've got to get started.”

“Started doing what?”

“Eliminating the impossible.”

 

Ashley was grateful that Katie was working, because she was able to get both Nick and Sharon to join Jake and her in the living room. Sharon was all maternal, asking if she was all right, telling her how she'd hardly been able to sleep after hearing what had happened.

Ashley thanked her for her concern, then plunged right in. “What's been going on with you?”

Sharon stared at her, going pink, then turned to Nick.

“Sharon, why were you really in my room?” Ashley demanded with exasperation. “What were you planning to talk to me about? And what was your appointment yesterday morning?”

“Oh, Ashley, I—I went to the doctor's office yesterday morning. I couldn't believe it at first, and I was so afraid of how Nick and you would feel, but…I'm pregnant.”

Ashley blinked. “Pregnant?”

“Nick and I are going to have a baby.” She paused to meet Nick's eyes, basking in his smile. “I know I shouldn't have been in your room, but I thought if I could get to know you better, get a sense of the private you, I could get closer to you, and then maybe you wouldn't mind so much that…”

She was definitely still overtired, Ashley realized. And so relieved. She burst into laughter. She laughed so hard that tears stung her eyes.

“Oh, no, Nick! She
is
upset. Ashley, I know Nick's been like a father to you since you were a little girl, and you've been like an only child…”

“I'm not upset,” Ashley managed to say at last. “I'm relie—” Jake stared at her sternly. She caught herself and started over. No need to let Sharon know she had been a suspect, however briefly. “I'm elated. I'm thrilled for you both. I can't wait to have a little cousin.” She rose quickly, hurried over to Sharon and hugged her tightly. “I couldn't be happier.”

Nick, looking slightly embarrassed, rose to accept her hug. “It's scary,” he said huskily. “I'll be bald and on arthritis medicine by the time the kid graduates from high school. But…I'm thrilled. And I'm thrilled that you're thrilled.”

“We're all thrilled,” Jake said, rising as well. “Sharon, Nick, congratulations. Is there any decent champagne in that bar of yours, Nick? My treat.” He slid an arm around Ashley, who was still shaking with relieved laughter.

Sharon begged them both not to say anything yet. She was nervous about carrying the baby and didn't want to make any announcement until she had passed the first trimester of her pregnancy. One way or the other, though, she and Nick had decided to get married. They were planning the wedding, which would be very small, on a Sunday morning, right there on the docks, in three weeks.

Jake and Ashley promised to keep their secret, then agreed to stand up for them at the wedding.

“What now?” Ashley whispered to Jake.

“Let's go fishing.”

“Is that a Sherlock Holmes thing, too?”

“No, it's when you throw a baited hook in the water, and try to catch fish.” He grinned. “I need to clear some cobwebs. Fishing always helps.”

 

That night, when they'd come in with a nice supply of snapper and a few kingfish, Jake returned to his place, showered and put a call through to Ethan Franklin.

“I need your help. You're a computer whiz. I need you to find out everything you can about a couple of guys.”

“You got it. And on this one, I'll even work nights and Sundays.”

“Thanks, Franklin,” Jake said, and gave him a list of four names.

 

On Monday morning, when Ashley walked into work she was smothered with hugs and congratulations both on being alive and on her part in the huge bust. She demurred, reminding them that she hadn't exactly solved anything; she'd been kidnapped from the hospital, sedated, along with Stuart Fresia. Captain Murray walked by and barked at everyone to get back to work—they were the police department, they were supposed to be solving crimes. But as everyone scattered, he set an arm on her shoulder and said three all-important words. “Good work, Montague.”

Later that afternoon, while she was in the darkroom, there was a tap at the door. The entire forensics department was standing there, along with several members of her one-time trainee class. They'd gotten her a cake. And she was awarded a little banner Gwyn had made on her computer, declaring her an honorary member of their graduating class.

Monday night was great. Stuart was up and walking, so the two of them, along with Jake, Karen, Jan, Len and even Mary—who had dressed up for the occasion—were able to visit with John, but only for a few minutes. His nurses were strict. “Leave it to me to get the battle-ax,” John moaned. “But once I get out of here, if I'm not under arrest, well, I'll be free. Really free, like I haven't been in years.”