Authors: Anne Frasier
Pretty Dead (33 page)
Strata Luna pulled herself together, tucked the handkerchief back in her sleeve, and stood up straight. “You’re right.” She looked at Elise. “We’ll put some rootwork together, the likes of which this place has never seen.”
Far be it from Elise to dash her hope. And if Sweet did recover, Strata Luna could always claim that she, and not the doctor standing patiently nearby, had saved him.
In intensive care, the four of them gathered around Sweet’s bed.
Heavily sedated, an IV in his arm and tubes in his chest, oxygen in his nose, he still managed to exude something. That Jackson Sweet presence.
He immediately spotted Audrey. “You okay?” he croaked.
“Fine,” Audrey said. It was true. Just minutes ago Elise had pulled Audrey aside to ask if the awful things Nightingale had revealed were true.
“He never touched me,” Audrey said. “Not like that.” More of Nightingale’s lies. Thank God.
“You probably saved Audrey’s life,” David told Sweet.
“At least that’s something.” Sweet drew a shallow breath before continuing. “Jay Thomas?”
“Dead,” Elise told him.
“Who?” One word was enough.
Who killed him?
“I did,” she said, thinking about the conversation they’d had the day he collapsed in her alley.
“Good.” Important questions answered, his focus shifted to Strata Luna. Even though she’d pulled herself together, he read her. “Don’t cry, woman,” he said. “Don’t ever cry for me. I don’t deserve anyone’s tears.”
“If I wanna cry, I’ll damn well cry.”
Sweet smiled, and his eyes drifted closed. In alarm, they all looked at the vitals screen, then relaxed.
“Time’s up,” the nurse announced.
Before leaving, Elise touched the back of Sweet’s hand, lightly, so as not to disturb him.
CHAPTER 59
W
hat do you think this is all about?” Elise asked as she pulled the car into an empty parking spot in front of city hall.
David unlatched his seat belt. “Some kind of award? A plaque we can hang on the wall?”
Three days had passed since Nightingale’s death, and it was looking like David had been right from the very beginning. The FBI was involved in processing the information, and matches were rolling in. Nightingale was on track to being one of the biggest serial killers the country had ever seen. Odd thing was, he really
had
been writing a story on Elise and David. The article, along with hundreds of photos, had been found on his laptop. The guy knew how to play a role.
The salesman, Charles Almena, had been released. Tyrell King, Elise’s old high school buddy, was in jail for falsely identifying the killer. Seemed he’d succumbed to coercion and bribery. Nightingale had been in the surveillance car with David the evening Elise met with Tyrell. The killer had simply gathered the information he needed, along with a license plate number.
And the public . . . rather than applaud the capture of a notorious serial killer, the entire nation was mourning the loss of its daily puzzle. The syndication company had announced plans to find a replacement, but Elise was pretty sure it would never be the same.
She and David exited the car and strode up the wide walk into city hall. After leaving their weapons at the checkpoint, they took the elevator to the third floor and the mayor’s office.
“Take a seat.” Mayor Chesterfield indicated two empty chairs. Directly behind him, in Elise’s line of vision, were photos of his daughter that hadn’t been there before.
Once Elise and David were settled, the mayor adjusted his tie, cleared his throat, and folded his hands on his desk. All signs pointed to nervous.
Elise and David shot each other a look of puzzlement.
“I want to thank you for risking your lives,” Mayor Chesterfield said. “And the city of Savannah appreciates the sacrifices you’ve made.” He stopped, blinked too slowly, then looked at them one at a time. “There’s no easy way to say this, so I’ll just come right out with it. We’re letting you both go.”
Jesus, Mary, and Joseph
. Not what Elise had expected.
“We caught Nightingale,” David pointed out.
“I know,” the mayor said with an accompanying nod. “City council and I debated long and hard about this. It’s not a decision we take lightly, but in the end it was unanimous. We’re letting you go. At this moment your police department computers are being collected, along with all files. You’ll no longer have access to your office. When you leave here, you’re to go directly to Savannah PD and turn in your gun and badge. While there, you’ll find your belongings in boxes waiting for you.”
Elise leaned back in her chair, trying to appear unfazed. “What you mean to say is we’re fired.”
“Not fired. Let go. We prefer let go. We’re not just turning you out with nothing. We put together a compensation package. Six months’ full pay with health benefits that will last another month.”
“Why are you doing this?” Elise asked. He wasn’t thinking straight. He’d lost a child. “I’m deeply sorry for the loss of your daughter,” she told him, “and I’m sorry we couldn’t have caught the killer earlier.”
“It’s not just that. All of this has gone on too long,” Mayor Chesterfield said. “Friendship with a woman who owns a house of ill repute. The constant press about you and your father, along with the never-ending hoodoo talk. The final straw for us was this case and the way you handled it. It was unprofessional. You brought in Gould when he’d been sidelined. The killer himself was with you from day one. Not to mention the affair between Gould and Major Hoffman. I think the city of Savannah has a pretty high tolerance level, but we’ve simply reached our tipping point.”
“Who’s replacing us?” David asked.
“We found somebody, don’t worry.”
“Who?” David repeated.
“Agent Vic Lamont has agreed to leave the FBI and take over homicide.”
David let out a loud snort. “That’s some messed-up shit.”
“That’s exactly the kind of thing I’m talking about. That attitude. In discussing this dismissal, we looked up your record. You’ve been here less than three years, and you’ve been on probation numerous times. Any other police department would have kicked you out after the second infraction.”
Elise had to get out of there. And get David out of there. “Anything else?” she asked.
“That covers it. You’ll be receiving paperwork from us, and if we have any follow-up on the Nightingale case, we’ll be expecting your full cooperation. Beyond that, you’re done.”
They left.
She’d be able to do normal things, Elise thought as she and David walked down the sidewalk to the car. “Just think. Mornings sitting on the back patio drinking coffee.”
“And movies. We can go to movies.”
“A concert.”
“What about that trip to an island somewhere?” David asked. “What about that beach we’re always talking about? You know, this could very well be one of the best days of my life.”
They paused, looked at each other, and burst out laughing.
CHAPTER 60
S
tanding in Savannah’s Chatham Square, Elise watched in horror as the bridal bouquet flew toward her. She ducked, and the girl behind her caught it.
David strolled across the grass and handed Elise a glass of champagne. He was dressed in a black tuxedo while she wore a strapless blue gown. She’d been hesitant to wear such a revealing outfit, because the low back revealed her tattoo, but as Mara said, she’d earned it.
“I saw that,” David said, sipping his drink.
“No need to waste a good flower tossing.”
John Casper joined them. “What are you two going to do once you get back from this vacation you’re taking?”
“We should open our own private detective business,” David said. “Gould and Sandburg Investigations. Or Sandburg and Gould. I could go either way.”
Their own agency was something David had joked about in the past, but doing it for real? Elise wasn’t sure how she felt about that.
“We already have a great team,” David added. “John here can consult, along with your dad. We have the contacts we need, and think of it—no rules.”
“I wouldn’t get in too big of a hurry to go off on your own,” John told them. “I predict Savannah PD will soon be begging you to come back.”
Elise’s phone rang. Anybody who would possibly call her was here at the wedding. Audrey, her father, Strata Luna, Mara, and the two men standing next to her. She checked the screen:
Mayor Samantha T. Becker
.
She knew that name.
“Excuse me.” She walked away and answered the phone. The mayor introduced herself, then got straight to the point. “Like the rest of the country, I’ve been riveted by the news. I also heard about your recent loss of employment, and I wonder if you and Detective Gould would consider flying to Chicago to consult on a case.”
Chicago. Elise had never been to Chicago.
“We’ll pay you by the day,” the mayor said. “Lodging and travel expenses included, plus we’ll provide a stipend.” She mentioned figures that were more than generous.
“I’ll have to discuss it with my partner,” Elise said.
“Understandable, but we’d like to have your answer by this evening.”
Elise must have had an odd expression on her face, because as she disconnected, David crossed the grass to see if everything was okay.
“That was the mayor of Chicago,” she told him. “She heard about us on the news and also heard we lost our jobs. She wants to fly us up to consult on a murder investigation.”
“When?”
She looked across the square and spotted her father and Strata Luna sitting on a bench in the shade, while Audrey and Avery stood on the brick path talking to them. A few days earlier, Elise, Audrey, and Strata Luna had concocted some nasty-smelling mojo that Jackson Sweet carried with him today—a pouch tied around his neck, hidden in his jacket. Elise swore she’d caught a few whiffs of it during the ceremony.
He was recovering from the gunshot wound, but it was too early to know about the cancer treatment. “Soon,” she said to David in answer to his question. “She wants us to come soon.”
He took a sip of champagne. “Your father can take care of Audrey, and Audrey can take care of your father.”
“What about the beach?”
“Chicago is on Lake Michigan.” He looked at her over the edge of his glass. “And lakes have beaches, right?”
A soft breeze blew their way, carrying with it the scent of a thousand stories. Elise smiled and said, “I’ll let the mayor know we’re coming.”
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Photo © 2012 Sharyn Morrow
Anne Frasier is the
New York Times
and
USA Today
bestselling author of twenty-five books and numerous short stories that have spanned the genres of suspense, mystery, thriller, romantic suspense, paranormal, and memoir. Her titles have been printed in both hardcover and paperback and translated into twenty languages. Her career began in 1998 with
Amazon Lily
, a cult sensation and winner of numerous awards. Her first memoir,
The Orchard
, was a 2011
O, The Oprah Magazine
Fall Pick, number two on the Indie Next List, and a Librarians’ Best Books of 2011. She divides her time between the city of St. Paul, Minnesota, and her writing studio in rural Wisconsin.
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