The Detective Read online

  “They were separated?”

  “Not for that long. He probably stuck it in there when they were still together.”

  Typical male response. “You don’t think his wife would have noticed that loose baseboard?”

  Nate shrugged. “You didn’t and you look for stuff like that. Plus, how do we know there wasn’t a chair or dresser in front of it?”

  Men just had an answer for everything. She held up the open book. “What do you think CLEANER means? Housekeeper?”

  “No idea. Call the number. I guarantee a woman will answer. I’m telling you, he hid this from his wife.”

  Okay, smart guy. For no other reason than to prove him wrong, she’d do it. She dug her cell phone from her jacket pocket. “Read me the number. I’ll bet you lunch you’re wrong.”

  Nate read off the number and Lexi punched the speaker button. Three rings later someone picked up. “Yeah?”

  Male voice.

  Distinctive. Rough. As if nails had scraped his vocal cords, leaving them damaged and raw.

  I know that voice.

  “Who is this?” the man said.

  Definitely him. The creep who’d talked to her on the sidewalk yesterday. The creep she’d drawn the sketch of. The creep Brodey couldn’t find.

  Panic, swift and obliterating, shot straight up Lexi’s neck. Hang up, hang up, hang up. She poked at the screen, pounding it with her index finger until the call disconnected.

  “A man,” Nate said. “Now, that’s interesting. I guess I owe you lunch.”

  She glanced up at Nate and sickness poured into her stomach, flip-flopping her morning coffee.

  Nate cocked his head. Studied her for a second. “You okay? You look a little sick.”

  I am sick. And she needed to get out of this house before The Creep realized it was her calling his number and came looking for her. “I’m fine. I...uh...need to make calls. Will you take care of this?”

  “Sure. I’ll let you know when we’re wrapped up here.”

  She charged down the steps, teetering on her high heels and praying she didn’t land on her face along the way. At the moment, she wasn’t sure what would be worse, the face-plant or Brodey’s reaction to her calling that number. Either way, it would be trouble.

  At the base of the stairs she stopped, stared at the front door and gasped. What if that creep was out there somewhere? Watching her. Brodey had warned he could be keeping an eye on the place. And she’d be walking to her car alone.

  Can’t do it.

  She’d have to stay here—inside with Nate upstairs. At least she wasn’t alone.

  And when Brodey heard this news, he’d go crazy. The lecture he’d level on her would turn her to stone. Her own fault for not thinking through her actions, for not calling him when she saw that notebook and for not listening to her instincts when they told her not to touch it.

  The latch on the front door thunked. Him. But how would he know it was she who had called?

  “Nate!”

  She backed up a step, her heel catching on the stair as she kept her gaze glued to the bottom of the front door when it opened. A man’s boot hit the threshold. She brought her gaze up along the jean-clad leg to the worn leather jacket—she knew that jacket—and the arm tucked in a sling under it. Her breath caught.

  “Brodey?”

  He popped his head in. “Hi.”

  Gushing blood pounded at her temples and she pressed her palms against her head. I’m not alone. Slowly, focusing on Brodey, she inhaled, held it a second and exhaled until the pounding eased.

  “What’s up?” Nate called from the landing above.

  She tilted her head up. “Nothing. False alarm.”

  “You are wigging out on me today.”

  Nate disappeared and she turned back to Brodey. “I’m so happy to see you right now.”

  He grinned. “I like that greeting. But you look like hell.”

  She rushed down the stairs, careful not to move too fast and tumble down. A trip to the hospital would be the capper. “You’re going to be really upset with me and I’m sorry. I didn’t... Ugh.”

  “Oh, boy. What’d you do?”

  She held the appointment book in her hand, contemplated the lecture she’d get and shoved it at him.

  Slowly, he shifted his gaze to her hand. “What’s this?”

  “I found it. Upstairs. Behind a piece of loose baseboard. I touched it. I’m sorry.”

  He puckered, but didn’t take the book. Instead, he slid his free hand into the messenger bag slung over his shoulder and retrieved a pair of latex gloves.

  The silence alone, from a man who took great pride in offering his opinions, made her stomach bunch. “Um, there’s an entry on December 16.”

  “Uh-huh.”

  “With a phone number.”

  He snapped on the gloves and went back to the book, his fingers riffling through the pages.

  Time to fess up. Now or never. “I called the number.”

  “Somehow,” he said, his voice low and calm, “I knew you’d say that.”

  She hated that voice. From him she wanted sarcasm and lecturing—maybe even yelling. This calm? It terrified her. “I’m sorry. I got carried away. Nate and I were debating why the book was hidden and he figured Jonathan hid it from his wife because it had phone numbers for women in it.”

  “Okay, well, that’s a leap.”

  “I thought so, too, and to prove my point, dialed the number. I didn’t think it through.”

  “An issue, for sure. After the guy from yesterday, anything you find in this house could be evidence.”

  The lecturing voice again. Good. That she could deal with. “I got caught up.”

  And if he thought he was irritated by her handling the book, wait’ll he heard who answered.

  He held up a gloved hand. “Let’s argue about it later. You said you called the number.”

  “Yes.”

  “Did a woman answer?”

  “No. A man. And I recognized the voice.”

  * * *

  SHE RECOGNIZED THE VOICE. Of all the things Brodey thought she might say, that one knocked him sideways. Whether or not she actually recognized the voice or simply thought she recognized the voice had yet to be determined. At times, witnesses were sure what they saw.

  Until they weren’t.

  Lexi stood on the first step, eye to eye with him, her greenish-brown eyes lacking that Lexi spunk. Nope. What he saw here was stone-cold fear. “You’re fine. Okay? Don’t panic. Who do you think it was?”

  “I don’t think—I know. It was that creepy guy from yesterday.”

  Damn it. Forget not panicking because it was definitely time to panic. He wouldn’t tell her that, though. He nudged her to a sitting position on the step and settled in next to her. “How do you know?”

  “He has a distinctive voice. Really raw.”

  “Uh-huh.”

  “It was him. I know it was.”

  Brodey opened the book to December 16, where CLEANER had been written across the top. That could mean anything. Cleaning lady, a trip to the dry cleaner’s, carpet cleaning.

  An assassin.

  But if it was the number for an assassin and Williams wanted to hire him—for what reason Brodey didn’t know—why would Williams be the one dead? He needed to find this guy. Fast.

  Not only did Brodey want the 411 on him, the guy now had Lexi’s cell number. Brodey ran his fingers over his forehead and squeezed. With that cell number, any halfway resourceful person, particularly a criminal with connections, could easily find her address. Assuming she’d used her phone and not Nate’s to place that call.

  He let out a long breath. “You called on your cell? Or Nate’s?”

  “Mine.�
��

  “Of course you did.”

  “Sorry.”

  “You’re making me crazy.” He waved the address book. “You’ve got to stop and think about what you’re doing.”

  “I know.”

  Did she? He wasn’t sure because she continued to do things that put her in danger. “It doesn’t feel like you do. You need to consider ramifications. Now, whoever this guy is, if he tried, he’d figure out where you live.”

  She closed her eyes. “I shouldn’t have called that number. Part of me knew it and then I blew that part off. I’m so sorry.”

  “Hey, it’s done now. We’ll deal with it. Anything in this house could be evidence, though. Treat it as such. Don’t touch it until you call me. Got it?”

  She nodded. “Got it.”

  “Good. I’ll run the phone number and see what we find.”

  “Shouldn’t we give this information to the police?”

  “Maybe. We don’t know what we have yet. The guy on the other end of that call could have been a poker buddy of our victim.”

  She considered that, then held her hands out. “You’re not even supposed to be working on this case. How will you trace that number?”

  Carefully, that was how. He boosted off the step, grabbed his messenger bag with his laptop and headed for the kitchen. “The wonders of the internet. Amazing what a credit card and online research will get you. Even if I strike out on who the number belongs to, I should be able to find out if it’s a cell number. Guessing it is. If so, let’s hope it’s a carrier I have a contact with.”

  “And then?”

  “And then I get a name, run him through the system and see if our boy here has a rap sheet. If he’s ever been accused of murder, I’d say we have a suspect.”

  In the kitchen, Brodey swung his messenger bag onto the island, used his free hand to drag his laptop out and booted it up. The night before, with his sister AWOL on another case and Brodey unable to sleep after striking out on contacting Mrs. Williams regarding her husband’s friends, he’d downloaded and scanned all the reports he’d obtained on this case. If his hard copies suddenly went missing, he now had a backup. Yeah, he always planned for the worst. Couldn’t help it.

  Thanks to the hot spot from his phone, he clicked on the icon for his browser. Lexi stood next to him, not too close, but close enough that she once again upset the energy around him. From the second he’d put eyes on her, she upset his energy.

  Massively.

  “Read me the number again.”

  He entered the digits into the search engine, and a list of options for obtaining information on phone numbers popped up. He didn’t recognize any of the sites. Probably bogus. The truly easy thing to do right here would be to call one of his buddies at the station and have him run the number, but seeing as he shouldn’t be working on this, he couldn’t risk anyone in a jackpot with him.

  But his sister had gotten him into this in the first place. Blame it on her.

  “Time-out.” He grabbed his phone off the counter and scrolled to Jenna’s number. “My sister can get us this info.”

  Voice mail. He left her the phone number, told her what he needed, hung up and sent her a text. “Give her ten minutes. Guaranteed.”

  “That fast?”

  “She’s an animal.”

  Six minutes later, his phone rang. Jenna. “Called it.” He hit the button. “Hey. Whatcha got?”

  As usual, she dispatched with the pleasantries. “That number belongs to one Ed Long. He lives on the West Side. Who is he?”

  “Don’t know. Lexi found an appointment book at Williamses’ house. The number was written in on December 16.”

  “Stop it! That’s the day he died.”

  “Sure is. I’m gonna run this guy down, see if he’s in the system.”

  “I thought you were worried about getting caught.”

  “I am. Which is why I’m gonna ask Dad to call in a favor or two. Text me Long’s address. While Dad’s doing his thing, Lexi and I will pay a visit and see if he’s the guy in her sketch.”

  * * *

  AS MUCH AS she wanted an assistant, Lexi didn’t think chasing down a suspected murderer would get it for her. After all, what good would the assistant do her if she were dead? “We’re going to his house?”

  “Bet your life,” Brodey said. “I want to know if he’s the guy you saw. And if the address is valid.” He went back to his laptop. “Let’s do an internet search on him.”

  “You’re searching for him?”

  “Is there a reason you keep repeating my statements?”

  “Uh, shock maybe?”

  He smiled and pounded the enter key. “You’re cute.”

  “Better cute than dead, handsome. Know what I mean?”

  “This is not a big deal. You’ll stay in the car.” He turned away from the computer, leaned one hip against the island and ran the roughened tips of his fingers along her jawline, a slow, tender sensation that made the girl who never much liked PDA want to reconsider her stance.

  “Brodey—”

  “I wouldn’t let anything happen to you. You know that, don’t you?”

  Yes. She did. Absolutely. He had that protective—not to mention stubborn—streak in him. Her own modern-day Hercules this one. Plus, if he didn’t stop stroking her jaw... “I know that. It makes me nervous is all. Like he knows me, but I don’t know him.”

  “Which is why we’re tracking him.” He dropped his hand, waggled his eyebrows and went back to his laptop. “I always do a search on a suspect. You find all kinds of stuff on the internet. Even if it isn’t rocket science, why not use every tool available? Whoa. Lots of Ed Longs. Okay. Let’s narrow this down.” He went back to the search bar and typed in Ed Long Chicago Illinois with his free hand. “Let’s see what we get now.”

  “We could go back to you rubbing my face. That was a whole lot nicer than the thought of coming face-to-face with Creep Man.”

  Again, he turned to her, slid one hand under her blazer, and suddenly she wanted that sling gone, wanted both of his hands on her as he patted her hip. “I promise you, this’ll be okay. For all we know, he probably teaches kindergarten. Don’t worry about it until there’s something to worry about.”

  She stepped a tiny bit closer, her body craving the heat and security that came with Brodey Hayward. Security. Something she’d never wanted or needed from a man. At this moment the independent career girl in her, the one who’d marched out of her loser fiancé’s office swearing she’d never allow herself to need a man, the one who constantly reminded her that men were dishonest, rutting animals, didn’t have much to say. Now the career girl went on hiatus? She squeezed her eyes closed. So confused.

  “Lex?”

  Subject change. That was what they needed right now. And given this whole mess, she had plenty of choices. “I could have destroyed evidence with that damned book.”

  “We’ll work around it. The book might not even be his. Maybe it’s the previous owner’s.”

  She gave him a baleful look. “Nice try.”

  Then something changed. His smile—that flashing quickness that, when unleashed, could do a girl in—faded, and she locked her jaw. Where he focused so intently, his gaze on hers, his mouth soft, no tightness, could do a girl in worse than the smile. I’m a mess. She forced herself to stay quiet. With that look, who knew what went on in his brain? In addition to being rutting animals, men had tendencies to say the exact opposite of what a woman wanted to hear. Maybe he’d lecture her again on being more careful and less spontaneous. Maybe he wouldn’t. All she knew was, on a purely physical level, she wanted whatever Brodey Hayward had in mind.

  He inched closer, tipped his head sideways. “I hope you’re aware that I’m extremely attracted to you.”

  “In fact, I
wasn’t. Not really. Well, it sort of felt like—”

  “Stop.”

  “What?”

  “Talking. We don’t need to analyze. A yes-or-no answer would have done it.”

  “Yes. Now I’m aware. For sure.”

  He grinned. “Close enough. Thank you.”

  “You’re welcome.”

  “So, Lexi.”

  “So, Brodey.”

  “If I were to ask you to dinner, what would you say?”

  “I’d say maybe. After I get this project done.”

  “Ouch.”

  She stepped closer, the collar of his jacket barely two inches from her lips and the clean scent of his soap lingering on him. She inhaled, loving the closeness. If she looked up, she’d be useless. All her nights spent alone paraded in her brain, reminding her how much of a life she didn’t have. “Please don’t be offended. My life is a nightmare. I’m interviewing assistants, which I won’t be able to afford unless I get this house sold. I’m averaging four hours of sleep a night because I’m building a business and refuse to turn clients away. A couple of more big clients and I’m on my way. That’s what I want. To be self-sufficient. To have a safety net.”

  No rutting animals.

  “I get that. But you have to eat.”

  “I eat while I’m working.”

  He went back to his laptop. “No problem. Tonight, I’ll call you and find out where you’re working and I’ll bring you dinner. I like that idea.”

  “Brodey—”

  “Yes or no, Lex. That’s all this requires.”

  Rutting animal or not, that hand on her hip, combined with the chin stroking from a minute ago, did amazing things to her libido.

  “Come on, Lexi, live a little.” He leaned in, got right next to her ear. “I promise I’ll behave.”

  That tore it. If they didn’t get back to the task at hand, she might do something really stupid and tilt her head sideways, just that small hint that—yes indeed—she would like to revisit kissing him. Yes indeed. “Yes. To...uh...dinner.”

  Smooth, Lexi.

  He backed away. “Excellent. Now, let’s get back to work before I convince you to let me do things to you on this island.”