Shoot from the Lip (15 page)

He did smell damn good, seemed nice enough. Now that I thought about it, if I got all negative about Roark to Kate, that put me squarely in Aunt Caroline’s court. I shivered at the thought. If Kate liked this guy, more power to her.

The elevator dinged and the doors opened. The compartment was almost full, and I hesitated.

“You coming or what?” a woman asked.

“Go on without me.” Dammit, I didn’t want tension between Kate and me. Besides, I needed my sister today, needed her beside me to offer comfort to Emma and her family.

I turned around, went back to her office and found her talking with Clinton in the waiting area.

“You’re back,” Kate said. “Clint and April said—”

“Listen, I don’t want to interfere in your social life, but I need your help tonight. I’ve discovered Christine O’Meara was murdered in 1997. I don’t want to take this news to her family alone.”

“That’s awful.” Kate looked up at Roark. “Do you mind if I take a rain check?”

“Of course not.” Roark looked at me. “Glad you changed your mind and came back.”

“Yeah, well, sometimes I’m as dumb as an unplugged computer. A cold case warmed up, and I need my sister’s help before this makes the late news.”

“I’ll get my purse, Abby.” She looked at Roark. “Call me?”

“I will.” He strode across the waiting room and out the door. Kate didn’t take her eyes off him until he was gone, reminding me that I never take my eyes off Jeff’s backside, either. Maybe there is such a thing as love in two days—even for shrinks who should know better.

“Mom’s dead?” Emma sat in the center of the couch at the hotel, flanked by Shannon and Luke. Luke was looking at the article copy I’d handed to Emma with the photo of their mother’s reconstructed face. Kate and I sat across from them.

“Yes. She was shot,” I said.

“Did she do it to herself?” Shannon said. “Because if she was drunk she could have—”

“No,” Kate interrupted gently. “Abby tells me the ME’s office determined from the wound location that she couldn’t have killed herself.”

“That’s a detail they left out of the paper,” I said. “Probably on purpose. They’ll compare Emma’s DNA to the DNA they took from your mother when her body was brought to the morgue in 1997. But as you can see, the woman in the newspaper looks exactly like her.”

“I’m glad she’s dead.” Luke’s gaze remained on the photocopy.

“Why’s that?” Kate had moved the coffee table aside to be closer to them, and her knees nearly touched Emma’s.

“I’m glad because she can’t come back,” he said. “Emma doesn’t have to be afraid of that happening anymore.”

“I was never afraid for myself, Luke,” Emma said. “I was afraid for you, Shannon and Scott.”

“Yeah, whatever,” he said with a shrug. He switched his stare to the Dr Pepper can held between his knees.

Kate leaned forward. “You’re looking out for your sister and I think that’s really cool, but how do you feel about your mother dying in such a violent way?”

His head snapped up. “You want me to cry? ’Cause that’s not gonna happen.”

“I only want you to know that I care, that I’m here for you. Anytime. No one should have to deal with what’s been dumped on you your entire life.”

Shannon said, “Emma always says that what doesn’t kill you makes you stronger. We’re pretty tough, Dr. Rose.”

Kate smiled. “Oh, yes. Tough and great and three of my new favorite people.”

“I have homework,” Shannon said. “Is it okay if I go?”

“Sure,” Emma said. “How about you, Luke? You want to stay?”

“No.” He jumped up and hurried to his room.

When they were gone, Emma said, “What happens next?”

“Your mother’s death will become an active homicide investigation again once a positive DNA ID is made. When the ME’s office is finished with her remains, you’ll have to decide what to do with her.”

Emma seemed to draw herself in. “I can’t afford a casket or—”

“What about cremation?” I asked.

Emma didn’t speak for a few moments. “The church allows it, as long as I don’t deny that she’ll be resurrected. That’s hard to think about—her being resurrected.”

Kate said, “You don’t have to decide tonight.”

“Mr. Kravitz and Mr. Mayo will find out about this tomorrow, won’t they?” Emma said.

I nodded. “I don’t know how they learn about things like this. But they’ll know.”

“I’m not sure I want to find out who killed her.” She looked at Kate. “Does that sound crazy?”

“Not at all,” Kate said. “Learning details about her murder will bring back more unpleasant memories—and you’ve had enough of those for a lifetime.”

“I’m not afraid of the memories.” Emma fell silent for a moment, her forehead creased in thought. “She must have made someone very angry.”

I nodded. “Or scared them.”

Emma took a moment to think before she said, “You know something? Every time I think of her I’ll always have questions. I want to put an end to that for good. Abby, will you help me find out what happened?”

My reply was interrupted by my cell phone. I looked at the caller ID and saw it was DeShay. “You mind if I take this?”

“Go ahead,” Emma said.

I answered the phone with, “Hey,” and walked into the kitchenette. “I planned to call you after I left Emma’s hotel. I met with Julie and—”

“Abby, bad news. Ed Benson had a stroke earlier today. He and White pulled a jewelry store case, and the homicide victim turned out to be a young security guard, a guy Ed knew who couldn’t make it in the academy. Guess Ed’s blood pressure went sky-high at the scene, and next thing you know they’re calling the paramedics. He’s in intensive care.”

“That’s awful, DeShay. Will he be okay?” I leaned against the counter.

“We don’t have many details. Guess Benson was conscious but couldn’t talk after he went down. Scared the shit out of Don White.”

“I am so sorry. I’ll send flowers tomorrow.”

“I’ll be filling in for Benson, and that’s not exactly my dream assignment,” DeShay said. “White is no Jeff Kline. He’s old-school. But I was the logical choice, since I’m already up to speed on the baby case.”

“What about Christine O’Meara? Because I found out—”

“Julie called me. Good work, Abby girl. Course, we have to wait on a positive ID through Emma’s DNA.”

“What I don’t understand is why no one checked her fingerprints back then,” I said. “Even if she didn’t have a driver’s license, you told me she’d been arrested once.”

“Yeah, well, there’s a reason. I just pulled the initial HPD report filed after they found her. She was a meltdown. Discovered in a field and had probably been lying there in hundred degree heat for a couple days. The corpse was no more than bones in a puddle, Abby.”

I swallowed, glancing Emma’s way. She was deep in conversation with Kate. “Thanks for the image. I don’t think I’ll be passing that along to Emma.”

“When Julie called she also updated me on the infant bones. She said there’s no evidence the child suffered any traumatic injuries, at least to the bones they collected. Could have been a natural death after the home birth.”

“You’re saying Christine’s only crime may have been not reporting the child’s death?” I said.

“We don’t know. But the O’Mearas’ case has become a priority. We had some jerk-off TV
journalist
all over our asses today. Did he care we have a brother hanging on in the ICU? I told him where to get off, but I’m betting he’s not leaving this train, Abby.”

“Paul Kravitz?”

“That’s him. I thought Don White might have a stroke himself when this guy showed up.”

“You didn’t tell Kravitz anything?” I said.

“No way. But he’ll go to the higher-ups, and then we’ll have the local news crawling all over us, too. I gotta say, this is a nightmare, Abby. A damn nightmare.”

“Emma wants me to stay on the case, find out why her mother was murdered. I hope that’s okay.”

“Okay? Of course it’s okay. White might not be thrilled, but it’s not like this is the first time a private eye’s been investigating while we’re doing our thing. He’ll get over it.”

“He did seem a little testy when Emma wanted me with her during that first interview,” I said.

“Don’t expect an improvement in that area now that Benson’s down, and don’t be surprised if I don’t get back to you right away if you call. I still have my own twenty-some cases, plus I gotta study up on Benson and White’s load.”

We said our good-byes and I returned to Kate and Emma.

“That was DeShay.” I put my phone back in my bag and told them what we’d discussed.

Emma said, “I am so sorry about Sergeant Benson. He was nice to me, seemed to really care that my baby sister was dead, said he’d help me find answers.”

“Now you’ll have DeShay on your side,” I said.

“You didn’t get a chance to answer my question,” Emma said. “Will you keep helping me?”

“You betcha. Think I’d throw you to the coyotes?”

Kate drove home while I stopped at Beck’s Prime and picked up our dinner. They do have an acceptable black-bean burger that Kate will eat. I went for the cheddar burger and added grilled onions so I could say I had a vegetable today. I skipped the fries, promising myself to get into those running shoes tomorrow. God, how I missed Jeff.

Once we were seated at the kitchen table and had started eating—Kate was drinking something thick and carrot orange from the blender while I enjoyed a Diet Coke—I brought up Clinton Roark.

“Tell me what’s going on, Kate. You just broke off a serious relationship, and you’re dating someone else only days later. That’s sounds like something I would do, not you.”

“We aren’t dating. I’m, well, helping him.”

I shook my head. “You think I don’t know my heinie from a hard drive?”

“He wants to become a—”

“A vegetarian. Sure. You know what I think? I think ‘Oh, my God, we were both born in the Year of the Rat’ would have probably worked just as well.”

She closed her eyes and took a deep breath before speaking. “Okay. Maybe I feel an attraction. Is that so wrong?”

“How would the shrink who resides in the thinking part of your brain answer?” I said.

“That’s just it, Abby. I don’t want to think and rethink every decision. That’s what Terry tried to do for both of us; that’s what totally turned me off.”

“Bet Roark’s at least fifteen years older than you.” I swigged my Diet Coke.

“Fourteen.”

I had my burger halfway to my mouth and froze. “He’s forty-four?”

“How old is Jeff?”

I raised my chin. “Thirty-six.” We sounded like we were back in junior high school having a boyfriend war like we used to—
mine’s better than yours.
I took a deep breath. “Sorry. I guess his age doesn’t matter. I’m worried about you, that’s all. You had one big cry and now you’re over Terry? I don’t think so.”

“I’m moving on, Abby, and it’s not my fault if someone walked into my office and seemed like exactly the right person to help me do that. We have chemistry.”

“Yeah. So did my ex and I, even after we got divorced. Chemistry experiments can blow up in your face.”

Kate knew this was true. No reply needed. She drank her orange concoction and it left her with a neon mustache. She looked downright ridiculous when she said, “This is all your fault, you know.”

“My fault?” But I couldn’t muster any conviction. She looked too funny.

“I watch how you and Jeff interact. There’s all this passion between you, so much—”

I was unable to hold back the laughter another second.

“What?” she said.

“You look like you should do a billboard for ‘Got Carrots?’ ”

She swiped at her lips and then we were both laughing.

The next morning I managed to find my running shoes and spent an hour walking and jogging near the Rice campus. We were blessed with a perfect October morning, cool and bright, and I felt energized by the exercise. By the time I arrived back home, Kate had left for work, and the cell phone I’d forgotten on the kitchen counter must have been making noises while I was gone. Diva was sitting and staring at the thing as if it were a mouse hole.

When I picked up the phone, I saw I had a message from DeShay. I listened to him say, “Hey, Abby. The DNA comparison on the baby is in. After I talk this over with White I’ll get back to you.”

I closed the phone, thinking how Emma might have two sets of remains entrusted to her now—the baby’s and her mother’s.

But it was Emma, not DeShay, who called me after I’d showered and dressed. She said the police were coming to her hotel to talk to her. “Sergeant White sounded so serious, and he wouldn’t tell me anything over the phone. I don’t want to face him alone.”

“DeShay told me they have DNA results on the baby,” I said. “That must be what this is about.” I told her I was on my way, then checked to see if DeShay had left me a voice mail message while I was in the shower. But he hadn’t. Maybe he and White were shutting me out.