one more time—but some battles were best waged alone. And she understood that. Her guilt over Jessie had been her lifetime obsession and had driven her to “fix” things for her childhood friend—making up for when she hadn’t helped at all.
Of course, understanding her problem and overcoming it were two different animals. It was a compulsion she had accepted as her penance long ago. And Jessie had every right to deal with her past in her own way. But Sam could help Harper, something she knew Jessie would want, too.
So her day had included a step in that direction.
From a distance, she stared at Ray Garza at his desk in the detective’s bullpen. She sipped coffee as she did, enjoying the anonymity of her spot across the busy room. She liked watching him in unguarded moments, a cop hard at work. He was on the phone and taking notes, looking especially sharp in a navy suit and tie. The man cleaned up real nice, although he looked a little tired. She’d left a message for him early, and he’d returned it, but both calls had rolled into voice mail so she’d decided to leave the next one in person.
Seeing Ray in the flesh was always a good move.
As she made her way down the aisle toward his desk, he looked up and did a noticeable double take with the phone to his ear, a gesture that had taken her by surprise, too. His all-business expression softened, and she couldn’t help but smile. And although he held up his end of the conversation, he kept his eyes on her.
It was a seductive gaze she could get used to.
Since she’d first met Ray, the connection between them had grown. And she loved every moment of their innocent cat-and-mouse game of flirtation. She knew they would eventually cross the line into something more, and she wanted that, too—one of the reasons she had instigated their bet in the first place.
But things had changed since they’d made the bet.
She pulled up a chair next to his desk and sat waiting, content with the view. When he got off the phone, he tossed his pen on the desktop and slouched back in his chair.
“Hey, Coop. We’ve been playing phone tag, but you look like a woman with something on her mind. You go first.”
“You have no idea, Raymundo.” She smiled and placed her coffee cup on a corner of his desk. “Look, I know we have a bet, but I think it’s time we compare notes on Harper’s case. If we pool our resources, we might make more headway. What do you say?”
“It sounds like you’re conceding.” Ray teased her. “I didn’t figure you for a quitter.”
Despite a grin on his face, she saw the concern in his dark eyes, a charming contradiction.
“I’m not a quitter, but I’m leaving it up to you. If I have to wave a white flag, I’ll do it.” She sighed. “This thing with Harper has gotten worse, and with him being in the wind, I think we should work together, that’s all. Our bet makes this seem like a game when it’s anything but that. He’s a cop’s son, Ray. We owe it to his old man.”
He thought about what she’d said for a moment, then began, “You don’t have to throw in the towel, Coop. I think we can keep a scorecard and give credit where it’s due.”
“Glad to hear you say that,” she said with a smile. “I’ve got something to share on Jason Burke, Mandy’s ex. That guy’s a piece of work.”
Sam kept Jessie’s activities to herself. Not because of their bet, but secondhand hearsay obtained by an outsider to the investigation would have little bearing on the case. Anything Jessie had acquired would not be admissible in court unless CPD’s investigation had uncovered the same findings legally.
“Yeah? What do you have?” Ray asked.
“I didn’t buy Burke’s I-PASS alibi, so I did some checking on my own. Jessie doesn’t even know about this. I didn’t want to get her hopes up if it turned out to be a dead end.” She had spent most of her morning chasing down her hunch.
“Checking on what?” he asked.
“I pulled his cell-phone records.” She raised an eyebrow. “And it would appear our man Burke is something of a superhero.”
“Yeah? How so?”
“Tracing his movements by cell-phone tower on the night Mandy was murdered, the guy used his phone in South Chicago at the same time he was supposed to be on the West Side in Lombard. Now if we search his apartment and find he’s got spandex and a cape in his closet, then I might change my mind, but I think he lied to us about being in the burbs, and I’d like to know why.”
“Yeah, so would I. I’d say Jason Burke has a solid spot on our suspect list. Culver’s lead on this. I’ll tell him and make sure he knows the tip came from you. He’ll bring Burke in for questioning.” He shrugged. “But you had that morsel in your hip pocket all along. Did you set me up about calling off our bet?”
“I wouldn’t exactly call it a setup. I had faith that you’d do the right thing.” She smiled.
“Thanks…I think.”
“You’re a good man, Raymundo.”
“I’d appreciate it if you’d keep that to yourself. I’ve got a reputation to think about.”
She took a sip of her coffee, and asked, “So what’s your news?”
His face turned grim. “I’m glad you’re sitting down.”
South Chicago
Off Cicero Avenue
Feeling every ache in her body, Jess glanced at the clock to see morning had actually come and gone. It was past noon when she rolled to her side and pulled a pillow over her head to block the daylight that filtered its fingers through her bedroom blinds like a rude poke in the eye.
Sleep had not been her friend. And despite the repair job on her face with butterfly stitches over her eye, she’d messed up her bed linens with smears of blood. When she caught a glimpse of smudged red on the pillow, she had enough and tossed it aside.
“Harper…only for you, pal.”
As she got dressed, she replayed the events of last night, the ones she remembered. After her run-in with Nadir Beladi, Jess had way more to think about than her latest bruises that made her body look like a shrink’s Rorschach test.
Something Beladi had said bothered her.
Sure, a grenade could be construed in a negative light, but the man had taken the whole thing personally. At first she thought he’d taken exception to her treading on his turf, but having the crap beat out of her had triggered an epiphany—and there was nothing like head trauma to render clarity.
“‘My place of business’?” she muttered.
Jess headed for her kitchen to make coffee, the caffeine-laden ambrosia of the gods, pretending it was still morning…somewhere. But a look into her living room stopped her. Looking cramped and bent, Alexa lay asleep on her short sofa. Fully clothed, the woman still wore her black Matrix gear and had a small comforter over her.
“Hey, Goldilocks. Rise and shine.” She waited until the woman opened her eyes. “I thought you left after you patched me up last night.”
“Last night? Try this morning.” Alexa yawned and was slow to sit up. She ran fingers through her hair when she was upright. “And yeah, I was going to, but you might have had a concussion. You don’t remember me waking you? I thought you’d slug me the last time.”
“Sorry I missed the opportunity. Normally, I don’t pass up a free poke.” Jess rounded the corner into her kitchen and checked her fridge.
“You hungry?” Jess turned toward her houseguest and grinned. “I’ve got Malt-O-Meal.”
“Oh no, not on your life,” the blonde objected. “We’re going out to eat, and you’re buying.”
Alexa stood and stretched, but a knock on the door saved Jess’s pocketbook. She peeked out the window and
