Kristen waited a moment, but he said no more. „Of?“
His expression became angry. „I guess the official cause of death was heart failure, but after five years in a vegetative state, any failure would have been sufficient.“
Her breath caught in her throat as the enormity of his admission hit home. Five years. Five years of painful limbo. Her heart ached for him, for what he’d endured. Her first impression had been an accurate one, she thought, thinking of that night in the elevator. Desperate desolation. „You loved her, then.“
His eyes flashed. „Yes.“ He bit it out, the one little word that said volumes. She knew that if she wanted to know more, she’d have to ask. She wondered if she did want to know more. She had enough troubles of her own without taking on those of another. But he took on yours, Kristen, without a second breath. And in a flash of insight she realized what he was offering. The opportunity to share burdens.
A relationship. Something she’d longed for over the years. Something that terrified every bit as much as it beckoned.
He was watching her think, which was unsettling, as if he knew her thoughts. Maybe he did. Maybe he won’t care. The thought came, childish and hopeful, and she dashed it immediately. No, he’d care. It would make a difference. Later, it would. But now, he needed to talk and she wanted to listen. They would be friends.
But no more than friends. It would be his choice, not hers. He would be the one to walk away, not her. She knew it, even as she stared into his eyes. They’d be hurt, both of them. But not tonight She tore her sandpaper into halves and offered him one.
„Tell me about her. Debra.“
He took the bit of sandpaper that looked pathetically small in his large hand. He stepped away, moving down to the other end of the mantel and she took in a deep breath, filling her lungs. Then turned back to her stubborn paint.
„She was…“ His voice roughened, broke. „She was everything.“
Kristen’s heart cracked as she wondered what it would be like to be „everything“ to someone. Someone like him. She sanded harder. „What happened?“
„She and I were going to the store. She got out of the car, and she was shot“
She glanced at him from the corner of her eye. He just stood there, staring at the sandpaper in his hand. „Was it a mugging?“
His jaw clenched. „No. Just some punk retaliating against the just-promoted detective who arrested his brother.“
She closed her eyes briefly. He’d only been doing his job and somebody ruined his life. There was a parallel here, his past experience with her current situation, but she wasn’t going to touch it now. „Tell me about her.“
„She had brown hair and brown eyes.“ He was quiet for a moment, and she could almost feel him grappling for the memory of the woman who’d been his „everything.“
„She was tall,“ he continued, his voice steadier. „She was a preschool teacher, loved little kids.“
„She sounds like a very nice woman.“
„She was.“ She heard the rueful smile in his voice and turned to find it reflected on his face. Still he stood, just holding the sandpaper. „She put up with me.“
Kristen made her own lips curve. „A hardship, I’m sure.“
His smile dimmed, draining her energy with it. „You have no idea.“
Suddenly too weary to stand, Kristen abandoned the mantel. „I’m tired, Abe. I think I’m going to call it a night. You should sleep, too. Please.“
He turned only his head, studying her from her head to her toes and back again, his eyes hot and her weariness evaporated, replaced by tingling awareness. He’d been stunned, he said. So was she, she admitted.
„Do you ever plan to take those pins out of your hair?“ he asked and her breath left her in a hard exhale that left her head spinning.
Breathe, Kristen. Breathe. „Why?“
He shook his head and the spell was broken. „Never mind. Go to sleep. Morning will be here soon enough.“
„And what will happen then?“
He lifted a brow. „We dig up Trevor Skinner.“
Chapter Twelve
Saturday, February 21,
7:00 am.
The press was a barely suppressed horde, led by none other than Zoe Richardson who was currently tempting fate by brandishing a microphone way too close to Abe’s face.
„The public has a right to know the identity of this victim,“ Richardson demanded. „You can’t keep this quiet.“
„We will until we’ve notified the victim’s family,“ Abe said in a warning tone, cognizant that his every move was being recorded for the public’s „right to know.“ He motioned to the officer assigned to crowd control at the scene. „Just keep them behind this line.“ He walked back to the scene, sheltered by some trees just off the main road.
Julia stood beside Jack next to the shallow grave that had been topped with a marker that read renee dexter. Mia stood next to Kristen who had quietly told them the details of the case. It was much as she’d described the night before in her kitchen. Dexter was a rape victim who Skinner had verbally eviscerated on the stand.
„I objected and objected,“ she’d murmured, staring at the woman’s name forever inscribed in marble. „But the judge let Skinner tear that woman to shreds.“
Jack’s team was bringing the body up now, under Julia’s watchful eye. Once Skinner was on the ground the five of them gathered close and Mia knelt next to the body.
„He’s got something in his hand,“ she explained. „His fist is wrapped with duct tape.“ Jack carefully slit the tape, opening the hand. With a look of revulsion on her face Mia looked up and met Abe’s eyes. „Looks like the proverbial cat our humble servant let out of the bag got Skinner’s proverbial tongue.“
„‘He died without saying a word in his own defense,’“ Kristen quoted from the letter. „You’ve told his wife?“
Abe nodded. „Spinnelli arrived at the Skinners’ house at the same time we arrived here. We didn’t want the press to tell her first“
Still kneeling next to the body, Mia looked up at Julia. „Can a person die from having their tongue cut out?“
Julia knelt on the other side of Skinner’s body. „No. But look at these depressions on both sides of his skull. Same size, same placement just behind his ears.“
„Vise grip,“ Jack said and Julia looked up at him with approval.
„That would do it.“
„Do what?“ Abe asked.
Julia stood up. „I’ll be able to confirm it after the autopsy, but if your boy is consistent and this bullet hole in Skinner’s forehead is postmortem and not the cause of death, I’m thinking we’ll find blood in his lungs.“
Abe sighed. „Meaning he cut out Skinner’s tongue and immobilized his head with the vise so that he drowned in his own blood.“
Mia rose to her feet, brushing her knees. „I think we need to put a watch on the guy that was acquitted for Renee Dexter’s rape. It’s logical that that’s where he’ll strike next.“
They all stepped back as the ME’s office zipped Skinner into a body bag.
„He’s crossed the line,“ Kristen murmured. „Skinner was a bastard in the courtroom, but he never broke the law.“
„What’s next?“ Jack asked bitterly. „Judges?“
„Or prosecutors who don’t win,“ Abe said and Kristen’s eyes widened, meeting his. „This guy has no boundaries, Kristen. He doesn’t blame you yet, but that could change.“
„We asked Spinnelli to give you twenty-four/seven protection,“ Mia said and Kristen opened her mouth as if to protest, then closed it.
„Thank you,“ she said instead.
„And until then,“ Abe said, „you stay with one of us.“
Mia’s phone beeped and she flipped it open. „Mitchell.“ Her lips curved in a feral smile as she listened. „You don’t say. Ain’t technology grand? Hold on.“ She looked at Abe, blonde brows lifted. „They found Skinner’s car across town. It has one of those global positioning systems.“