Vile (16 page)

She relaxed and settled the Glock back on the floor. “In here!”

He filled the doorway, took a long look at her and then one of those sexy smiles of his slid across his mouth. Those dimples had her heart doing a little pitty-pat. He stared at her with such longing that it almost took her breath all over again.

“How was your day?” He slipped off his jacket and let it drop to the floor.

She stared at the discarded garment for a moment. “We found another body.” She looked up as he came a step closer and reached for the buttons at his cuffs. Every move he made had her heart pounding a little harder.

“I heard.” He rolled up first one sleeve and then the other. “The boyfriend?”

Jess nodded, not sure she could speak without stuttering. They were supposed to talk, she reminded herself, but when he knelt next to the tub that thought vanished.

“I’m sorry I’m late again.”

He was late. She licked her lips and took one last stab at having that talk with him. “Is something going on you should be telling me about?”

He swept a wisp of hair back from her forehead and then traced the line of her jaw. She shivered. “Not really. Have I told you lately how beautiful you are?” The other hand slipped beneath the water and found her breast. “Still tender?”

That was one of the other things about being pregnant. Her breasts were achy. “Yes. And yes.” But the gentle way he touched her made her forget all about aches and pains and weariness. She just wanted him to keep doing it.

His hand slid down her torso, parted her thighs, and started an intimate exploration. “I want you,” he murmured.

Her body responded instantly. “Not as much as I want you.”

His hand fell away as he stood. Her breath hitched. From this angle, she could clearly see just how much he wanted her. He stripped off his shirt, then his trousers. The socks hit the floor, followed immediately by his boxers.

The water churned and splashed, a little spilling over onto the floor as he settled in the other end of the claw foot tub. He reached for her and she climbed onto him, her legs coming to rest on either side of his waist. While his hands traced her body, her fingers found that part of him she wanted deep inside her. She eased downward, taking all of him before wilting helplessly against his chest.

She closed her eyes and listened to his heart beating. For a long while that was all she needed, just that sound and the feel of him joined with her. His hands tightened around her hips and gently rocked her back and forth. Need ignited, urging her to move faster. She refused. Instead, arching upright, she closed her fingers around the edges of the tub as she set a painfully slow, easy pace.

He taunted her breasts as she teased him with her slow, slow movements. Just watching his face almost undid her. Finally, she closed her eyes and started to glide against him faster and faster until they were plunged into that exquisite place where nothing else mattered.

Just this moment…

16

Mott Street Residence

Thursday, September 2, 9:15 a.m.

Nicole Green’s home looked like any other on the block. Two-story brick colonial with a well-manicured lawn and a minivan in the drive. To passersby the multitude of blooming shrubs and colorful toys lying about were nothing more than the expected characteristics of a Mott Street home. It was a family neighborhood where everyone looked out for everyone else.

The kind of neighborhood where people wanted to raise their children. The best public schools in the city. Little or no crime. The closest thing to paradise one found in a city once labeled the murder capital of the country.

But the Green home was no typical family home. It was a safe house used by the Birmingham Police Department on those rare occasions when a victim was in danger and needed the kind of protection found only in a deep cover situation.

“She’s eating and sleeping like any other normal four year old,” Nicole Green explained to Jess as they watched Maddie Brownfield through the one-way mirror. The family room in the home was set up with monitoring and a viewing area much like the interview rooms at the department. “But that’s as far as her normal goes. She doesn’t play with the other children. She doesn’t speak to anyone. She watches and she draws.”

Jess turned to the other woman. “Watches?”

Nicole, a nurse practitioner with a specialty in pediatric psychology, hesitated before answering as if she needed to find the right way to answer. “I’m hesitant to label her behavior. It’s too soon. But if I had to give my impressions to a judge today, I’d say she has spent most of her life very sheltered.”

An uneasy feeling crept up Jess’s spine. “Define sheltered.”

“No social interaction with other children.” Her eyebrows reared up in skepticism. “Maybe no social interaction with anyone beyond her immediate family. She doesn’t speak. She appears confused when the other children try to play with her. I think that’s why she watches. When she watches long enough to feel comfortable, she imitates what she sees. But mostly, she draws. No matter what’s on the television she ignores it. I get the impression she’s seen very little television, which, in my opinion, isn’t such a bad thing. That may have been the one good thing her caregivers did for her.”

The nausea hadn’t haunted Jess this week the way it had the last, but right now she felt very sick to her stomach. “I’d like to speak to her if you think it won’t interfere with your ongoing assessment.”

“Actually,” Nicole said, “I’d like to see how she reacts to you.”

“All right.” Jess had spent twenty years working in law enforcement and this case, this child, or maybe her pregnancy, had her hesitating. “I’d like to show her photos of her mother, grandmother, and her mother’s boyfriend.”

Nicole made a face as she contemplated the request. “Do you believe there’s something she can tell you that’s going to help your investigation?”

Jess shook her head. “I’m not sure she can tell me anything but her reaction might tell me if she was afraid of her mother’s boyfriend which could explain why he got himself buried alive.”

“I suppose it can’t hurt to see how she reacts to the mother and grandmother. If there’s no problem you can show her the photo of the boyfriend. Use your own judgment.” Nicole shrugged. “Whatever happens is on you, Chief Harris. My job is to protect that little girl.”

Now that Jess felt like the bad guy in the room, she squared her shoulders and did what she understood she had to do. “Thank you. I’ll bear that in mind.”

Jess opened the door and entered the family room. Maddie didn’t look up. Her focus remained on her coloring. Jess hiked her tangerine skirt up a few inches and settled on her knees next to the little girl.

“Hello, Maddie.”

Maddie looked up at Jess and smiled. Jess’s heart squeezed. “What’re you drawing today?”

Maddie looked down at the picture in progress. A house and a small stick figure stood amid several trees. Probably the farmhouse. Jess studied the drawing closer. Between the trees were little green hills or… mounds. She pointed to one. “What’s this?”

Maddie stared up at Jess as if she didn’t understand.

Jess picked up the sheet of craft paper and pointed from one mound to the next. They pretty much filled the page. “Are these flowers? Or shrubs?”

Maddie shook her head.

Jess’s throat went dry as she thought of all the murdered animals Mrs. Clements had told her about. “Is something buried here?” She placed her finger on one mound after the other.

Maddie nodded.

Jess moistened her lips. “Can you tell me what it is?”

The little girl curled her finger for Jess to come closer. Jess leaned down.

Maddie put her little face next to Jess’s ear and whispered, “The dead people.”

Heart bumping against her sternum, Jess summoned a smile for the little girl. “May I keep this one? I would really love to hang it on my wall?”

Maddie nodded and reached for a new page. She returned to her coloring as if the past few seconds hadn’t happened.

Jess placed the photos of Amanda and Margaret Brownfield on the floor in front of Maddie. The little girl glanced at them but hardly spared more than a second or two from her drawing. Next, Jess laid Clements’ photo in front of her. Maddie looked at him and, once more, returned to her drawing.

“Do you know these people, Maddie?”

This time the child didn’t look up, she just kept coloring.

“I’ll be back to see you soon, Maddie.”

Somehow, Jess left the room without breaking into a run. When the door was closed Nicole asked, “Did she tell you anything that could help?”

“Maybe.” Jess couldn’t be sure what the child had witnessed or even been forced to participate in. “Until we see what this means,” she showed the drawing to Nicole, “you may want to watch her closely with the other children.”

Confused, Nicole shook her head. “Is there some implication I’m not seeing?”

“She told me there are dead people buried here. Since we’ve already found one, I believe her.”

Shock claimed the other woman’s face. “I’m going to need to speak with Mrs. Wettermark about this.”

“If she’s moved, I’ll need the location,” Jess said on her way out. She had calls to make as well.

Clint Hayes waited for her in the entry hall. “We ready, Chief?”

“We are. Have you heard from Dr. Baron yet?”

Hayes went out the door first, surveyed the street, then moved aside for Jess to exit. “She’s headed to Scottsboro now to have a look at Clements’ body.”

“Then that’s where we’re headed.” Jess plucked her sunglasses from her bag and pushed them into place. “Warn Chief Burnett that we’re going to need a full forensic team at the Brownfield farm. I’ll give Agent Manning a call at the Birmingham Field Office. We may need the body hunters on this one.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

As Hayes withdrew his cell phone, Jess reached for the passenger side door. It was looking like she’d found another cunning serial killer. She thought of the photos and articles on the wall of Amanda Brownfield’s wall. Or had the serial killer found her? Jess shuddered as she dragged her seatbelt into place.

After she and Dan had made love last night, she’d laid in bed listening to him breath. She had spent several hours thinking about Amanda Brownfield before she could sleep. Jess had decided that if her conclusions were correct, the woman fell a little higher on the evil scale than Richard Ellis. Richard had been vicious in his need to assuage the pain of rejection. But Amanda wasn’t trying to assuage anything as simple as a rejection. Her methods reached the next level.

She was beyond vicious… Amanda Brownfield was vile.

Jackson County Coroner’s office, 12:01 p.m.

Jess doubted that Dr. Brazelton had ever encountered anyone in his profession quite like Sylvia Baron. She was unquestionably one of a kind. As usual, she was dressed impeccably. A lime green dress and matching stilettos. The gorgeous shoes made Jess yearn for her lost Mary Janes. Oh well, there would be other shoes.

“Your killer was quite resourceful in her methods,” Sylvia announced.

“The gash on the back of his head was sufficient for keeping him down?” Jess studied the victim. Brock Clements had plenty of tattoos like Amanda’s other boyfriend. A little less bulk, but still abundantly muscled for such a lean frame. Despite his lack of ambition on the job, he’d been handsome enough. Too bad he hadn’t put those looks to better use, namely keeping a job and finding a girlfriend who wasn’t a psychopath. She had marked him with her signature red lipstick imprint just as she had her mother. Poor bastard.

“The knock to the head likely rattled him enough for her to get him in the hole she’d dug,” Sylvia speculated. “His clothes showed evidence of having been dragged through the dirt and brush. He could have been rattled long enough for her to cover him up, but then he pulled himself together. Judging by the combination of skin and dirt found under his nails, he may have grabbed her while she was packing down the dirt.”

“Did she drug him?”

“No evidence of that so far.” Sylvia drew back the sheet to expose more of his torso. “She tased him.”

Jess spotted the telltale red marks. “Why not just shoot the guy?” Jess complained. “The end results are the same and without all the hubbub.”

“I blame it on all the violence on television and in those disturbing video games,” Sylvia tossed back. “Killers these days need more stimulation during the act.”

Brazelton just looked from one to the other.

“So the Taser did him in?” Jess asked. All Amanda had needed was to keep him down until he’d suffocated.

“Not the first time.” Sylvia lifted his right shoulder and indicated another mark. “But the second one finished the job.”

Damn. The guy had to know he was screwed by the time she hit him with that second jolt of electricity. “Not a good way to go.”

“At least he had sex one last time before he bit the dust, literally.”

Jess smiled, pretending she didn’t notice the rush of red up the Jackson County Coroner’s face. “Thank you for coming all this way to lend a hand, Dr. Baron.”

Sylvia tugged off one glove and then the other. “Anytime, Chief Harris. Don’t forget about the barbecue on Monday. My father will be most disappointed if you’re not there.”

“I wouldn’t miss it.”

Jess thanked Dr. Brazelton for making this autopsy a priority as she stripped off the protective wear. Lieutenant Hayes hadn’t donned the requisite gloves since he had opted not to get close enough to touch the victim. Jess wondered if he honestly had the stomach for investigating murder cases.

“We have a forensic team on site,” he told her as they exited the building. “Harper said Agent Manning had arrived. He has an excavation team en route.”

“Good. I’d like to know what we’re looking at before nightfall. Is Agent Gant with him?” Gant had told Jess he was coming.

“Harper said Gant couldn’t make it.”

Which meant just one thing. Something higher priority had come up. Jess hoped it was an actual lead on Spears. “Thank you, Lieutenant.”

“Harper also said Chief Black called to let you know that homeless guy, Terry Bellamy, hanged himself in his cell last night.”