Chapter Fourteen
“Sit down, Rachel. We have to talk.” Vince and Rachel had returned to her office. Closed for the day, the other Human Resources offices were dark as an arctic night. Despite that, he shut her door and turned the lock.
“That sounds ominous. This talk centers around Caitlin and this situation, right? Not us.” Sitting in her desk chair, she assessed this man. She knew every part of him, had loved him intimately, but life got in the way of their happy ending. That history guided her actions and kept him at bay.
“Not us,” he admitted but she could tell that didn’t make him happy. Her heart skipped even yet after all these months. And he wasn’t that close to her or very approachable. Even in these dangerous circumstances, she felt that pull between them.
She’d never get over him. What was worse, if she’d be honest with herself, she didn’t want to.
“About Caitlin.” He shot her a dark eyed gaze that would have melted steel.
“Shoot.” Right now, her mind wasn’t on steel or danger.
“Do you still have the gun I gave you?”
She nodded.
“Have you continued practicing?”
“Yes.” With each question and answer, her heart hammered in a more frantic pace. Memories swept through her. His body against hers when he taught her the shooting stance. His hands on hers when he showed her how to hold the weapon. He had insisted she have the gun and know how to use it when she stayed alone with her ill mother. That illness ultimately killed her mom, but not before Rachel sent Vince packing.
“Good. I was worried you might have gotten rid of it when you moved from the neighborhood.” She soaked in that comment, savoring it. He had kept close tabs on her.
“You got it for me. I couldn’t do that.” She paused for a moment and he reached out a hand. She grasped it, enjoying the weight of it in her hand. “Why ask about the gun now?” Her eyes asked deeper questions, ones she couldn’t give voice. She didn’t release his hand nor did he retrieve it.
“You’ve got a cool head. I know and trust it. I believe Caitlin’s in more danger than she admits. Or I’m acknowledging…at least until I see what shakes out in the next few days.”
Her eyes widened at his words. “And you want me to protect her? I’m not a police officer!”
“Hell, I know that. I want you to be with her. The gun’s minimal insurance for you both. Caitlin sometimes thinks she can handle anything and everything.”
“Tell me about it.” It wasn’t the place and it wasn’t professional, but she longed to be in his arms. Again. But, it wouldn’t happen. Not here. Not anywhere. Because she’d been a fool.
“I rest my case. That attitude clouds her clear judgment in this situation. You, on the other hand, aren’t afraid to ask for help. You’d recognize it was needed before Caitlin did.”
“I think in this situation she’s backing off her usual behaviors, but I won’t swear to it.”
“That’s why I want you there—with her.”
“You asked Mike, too.”
“I did, but he’s still an unknown element. I can’t read him clearly yet, so I can’t depend on him. For all I know, Mike might assume he can handle anything, too. But for different reasons than Caitlin. This way I’ve got my two unknowns in one place. With you in the mix, I’ll know what’s going on and won’t worry while I work the case.” Vince looked at her hand, still entwined in his. He turned the palm upward, kissing it gently.
His kiss sent tingles radiating from her palm, upward, landing near her heart. What was this? Their relationship was over, a done deal. By her own words and actions—to keep a promise given to her dying mother. But hidden deep inside, she held her memories, deep in her heart, and treasured them. That kiss ferreted them out.
Darn.
“Our kids would have been this color, Rach.” His dark eyes bore into her darker ones.
She exhaled and threw off those tingles like a puppy shook off bath water. “This isn’t the time—or the place. We hashed this out months ago.” Strength and will power had fled from her. She left her hand in his. It felt at home.
“About kids, maybe,” he countered, not sounding like the all-business cop. “But us? Never, we haven’t even broken the surface of that conversation.”
“Don’t, Vince.”
“I’m not listening, especially now that your mom is dead. Rachel, please. We need to talk, but you’re right—not here.” All the love and passion she denied every night before sleep and each dawn at wakening colored each word he spoke. Why did her heart insist on belonging to him?
“This your way of telling me to be careful, big guy?” Tenderness for the moment and what wasn’t said softened her use of his familiar nickname. She ached with missing him. Inside and out. They had been so tuned to each other. Then.
“It’s my way of saying I’m fighting for you one more time. Seeing you again and gaining the courage to do so is the only good thing to come of this whole mess.”
“Perhaps, but with me at Caitlin’s—”
“With the gun, safe but accessible on the main floor.”
“We won’t get a chance for a private talk.”
“Will too. That place has more room than most people’s houses. Caitlin knows about us, our history. She’ll give us space, no questions asked. I imagine you’ll do the cooking so ask me to dinner tonight.”
“Tomorrow night, Vince. I’ll clear it with Caitlin first. Anything else I should know?”
“I still love you.” As he spoke, he rubbed her palm in soothing circles.
“Vince, please, you’re making everything very difficult. Answer my question.”
“About Caitlin? Not really. Maybe after tomorrow I’ll have answers. I’m running down some leads and weird connections.”
“That’s reassuring.”
“Did this Buddy Stein character have anything to do with Kirby Metz?”
“I don’t think so. Stein was Caitlin’s problem right from day one. Kirby handles other duties, usually tasks which require no thought or delicacy.”
“Sounds like you don’t like the guy.”
“I don’t and I don’t trust him. I think he’s sneaky but Caitlin thinks he’s foolish.”
“You may be more right than she is about him. Keep a cautious eye on him. That should be easy with your office opposite his.”
“Sure thing. Am I deputized now? Get to have a badge and a secret decoder device?”
He thumbed the side of her jaw. “More than deputized. How about life partner? I’ll throw in the decoder device for free.”
“I’ll stick to deputized for right now. That all, Detective? I’ve got some packing to do if I’m changing my address.” They moved together.
“For now. Be careful, Rach, and call if anything seems off.” He moved to embrace her, but footsteps in the corridor blocked his action.
“Horace, what’re you looking for?” Rachel asked while Vince looked frustrated.
“Ms. Donnelly said a Detective Bertoli wanted to talk with me?” The guard entered the office.
“I’m Vince Bertoli, Horace. Glad to meet you.” He extended his hand to the guard. “I think Ms. Williams was just preparing to leave. Shall we head to the security office to talk?”
****
“You drive like traffic means nothing to you.”
“This is nothing. Not after Atlanta’s traffic snarls.” His big hands molded around the car’s leather steering wheel. The car itself served as an extension of his body.
“I go this way, too. Where, exactly, do you live?”
“About ten minutes from here.”
Shortly after, he pulled into the south driveway of her condo complex. “I don’t believe this. You live here?” she asked, not hiding her surprise.
“I do.” He opened a garage in the furthest building from hers. While their complex had only six buildings, the layout was so mingled with the natural terrain it isolated the two newest buildings from the older ones.
“I’m renting from the Jacksons. They’ve been transferred to Hong Kong. Don’t you keep up with your neighbors?”
“Not lately.” She slammed the car door and entered a hallway not unlike her own. “Amazing, you being here and I didn’t know.”
“So much has happened, Cait, I never got around to telling you. This place is tiny compared to yours. I’d buy a unit here in a minute if I could find one with your garage, all the extra space, and your view.”
“Not too many like mine. The owners of these units don’t sell quickly; in fact, they’ll probably die first. That’s how I got mine.”
“Don’t talk like that, Cait. You might tempt bad luck. Want a glass of wine while I pack?”
“I’ll pass for now.” She opened the fridge and found a Diet Coke. “Mind if I take your last one?” She held the can in her hand.
“Feel free.” He grabbed a bottle of scotch from the lower cabinet. “Remember this when we leave, all right?”
Caitlin nodded. “After poking my head in this fridge, I don’t want to hear any more comments from you about my empty one. At least I’ve got fruit and yogurt and…”
“That’s not real food,” he teased. “Want to follow me into the bedroom while I pack? I promise to behave.” He leered in his silly imitation of silent movies villains. “But I won’t guarantee my thoughts.”
Considering that imitation, she should be as naive as the old movie heroines and follow blindly but instead, she cocked her head. “I’ll pass.”
“Smart move.” He led her down the hallway toward the sleeping quarters of the condo.
Sipping her Coke, Caitlin watched from the corridor as Mike packed. What struck her was he had no “things.” Nothing personal, except pictures of two children, some athletic trophies, and a closet filled with clothes. Nothing else.
“Those your kids?” A nod as he threw socks and underwear into a bag.
“This furniture, the accessories, they don’t seem like you. Except for the pictures.” Feeling silly standing outside the room, she entered and sat on the opposite edge of the bed from Mike as he put suits into a garment bag.
“Genuine rentals. I left everything in Georgia. Didn’t want anything Anne and I had together. Except for the kids, and she wouldn’t budge on them. I learned some judges think mothers are the best parents. Our judge was one of them. I didn’t have a chance for getting custody. I got some savings and the few stocks we had managed to buy. Not a real exchange for the kids though. Someday, I hope they’ll understand.”
“Surely you have visitation rights? You always wanted to be a father so I imagine you are really good with them.” That was one of the reasons she walked away from him years ago.
“I do and I think I’m a good father. So do the kids, or they did anyway.” He grabbed a stack of dress shirts fresh from the laundry.
Her heart wrenched at his look of despair and loneliness. “I’m sure they still think so. I can’t imagine you not being a very involved father. I still remember all those little kids you coached.” How many of those little league games had she gone to with him so long ago.
“But my kids have a rougher road now. Anne’s a self-centered mother. Really uncaring most of the time. But, image is important to her and no woman in her circle gives up her kids, except to nannies, of course.”
Such bitter anger and hatred lodged in those words they frightened her—for him. “Maybe that’s an observation based on bitter memories more than fact.” She had carried harsh remnants of her first marriage inside her for years.
“Believe it. Anyway, I get the twins for two weeks in the summer along with Christmas and Easter vacations, after the actual holiday.”
His sad voice wrenched her heart. “Easter will be here before you know it. Will they come here?”
“If Anne agrees, but there’s no telling about that. Her plans’ll determine whether she sends them here or insists I come there.”
Part of her longed to agree he’d chosen a real loser, but she didn’t. Had she played a part in Mike making that mistake? Had her refusal to consider him for a husband years ago pushed him into a bad marriage? Don’t go there. He was a grown man who made his own decisions.
“Looks like you packed for a long stay. I have to admit to being embarrassed that you’re giving up a real bed for the sofa bed in my family room.”
“If it’s near you, Cait, and I know you’re safe, I can sleep anywhere.” He stared at her with such intensity she fidgeted. “Of course, I could watch you better from your bed.”
Liquid smoke eyes shot rivers of heat toward her and her cheeks warmed in response. “You say the darndest things to embarrass me.” Her breathing turned ragged. Only this time she couldn’t blame her blood pressure.
“Wasn’t why I said it. Though that blush tells me what you won’t.” He grabbed a small shaving kit, stuffed it into a canvas weekend case, and pulled his garment bag from the bed. “Ready, Scarlett?”
She nodded and led the way out, remembering to grab the scotch on her way.
Dusk colored the taupe sky with striating ribbons of mauve and vivid reddish purple as Mike took the loop drive north through the ravine toward her building. In front of her garage, as they waited for the door to open, she noticed a parcel on her front steps. Her welcome mat thrown over the package partially hid it from view. She retrieved the parcel as she headed into her foyer, a roomier version of the one she’d just left.
While Mike carried in his bags, Caitlin tore the brown paper wrappings from the parcel. She hadn’t noticed any UPS or post office markings. With the brown paper off, she spied a ribbon—black, glossy satin. And screamed.
“What’s the matter?” Mike came running to her side.
She pointed at the white box, tied with black ribbon. “I can’t open it, Mike. The other package, it had black ribbon…” She cowered before the package. One not so innocent in her eyes.
“Caitlin, no one knows you live here, right? Remember what you put me through to get your number?”
“This is from him. And there’s no addresses, so he had to bring it here. He knows where I live.” Ice-like cold settled deep inside her at this thought. This violation ranked close to her attack.
“The only way you’ll know for sure is to open it up. Do you want me to do it?” He had dropped his bags on the floor and started to grab the innocent looking box.
Caitlin gulped. “No, Mike. I’ll do it. I won’t let this get to me.” Carefully, she opened the box lid, the inside topped with black tissue paper. Lying on the paper was an envelope. Pulling it off the paper, she opened it, resisting the urge to tear the thing apart.
“Control, control, stay in control,” she murmured in mantra-like cadence. She glanced at Mike, right next to her, looking more anxious than she felt.
Caitlin pulled the grimy note from the envelope. “Looks like the others.” she mumbled as she unfolded it, read it, handed it to Mike.
“NEXT TIME, BITCH, YOU WON’T BE SO LUCKY!”
He dropped the note on the counter. Its newsprint letters appeared grotesque against the speckled granite.
She reached into the tissue paper, spreading it apart slowly, and gasped. She grabbed onto Mike who peered with her at the contents. A porcelain doll with auburn-tresses—its head severed from its soft body. Arms and legs were thrown over the mutilated torso. An iron spike protruded from the genital area.
Blackness swept over Caitlin. Flashes of bright light zigzagged in the darkness behind her eyeballs. Mike caught her before she hit the floor. She stayed safe in his arms until her agitation eased.
Then the call came—a taped replica of the one she received earlier at work.
“I guess you weren’t the only one with a tape recorder this afternoon,” Mike growled once the call ended.
Her head clearer, her stomach under control, Caitlin heard Rachel enter from the garage. “Call Vince,” she gasped.