Crime Of The Heart Read online

  Lee’s heart started to pound, the pain in his leg gone and forgotten. He’d spent his life protecting people, and the fact that someone had put a look of fear into Erin’s eyes sent a sudden surge of anger through his body. “Tell me everything. You’re sure it’s not just an old boyfriend wanting you back?” he blurted out, unable to hold the barbed question back.

  “I told you. I saw a murder,” she replied evenly.

  “Maybe you should contact the police,” he said bluntly.

  Her beautiful green eyes widened, looking like sparkling pools of water. “You are the police.”

  “Not right now.”

  She ignored his comment. “Besides, I did contact them. They’re investigating the murder, but they haven’t found any evidence. And since no one has physically approached me, they can’t help me.”

  “Why me? Couldn’t you find anyone else in the whole state of Illinois to run to?” he asked, keeping his voice and his gaze hard.

  Suddenly, she was crying. Tears poured down her cheeks. Lee stared at them for a long moment.

  “I didn’t know where else to go. I came to you for help,” she said between sobs. “I’m sorry I hurt you. I’m sorry about your leg. I’m sorry about everything, all right? But I can’t change any of it. I would if I could, but I can’t.”

  Lee couldn’t stop staring at her, finding it hard to believe she was the same woman who had looked him straight in the eye—with dry eyes, too—and told him she couldn’t live with the worry that something would happen to him.

  “I know you can’t,” he said, not knowing what else to say. Taking a large gulp of coffee, he burned his mouth as he tried to swallow past the bitterness in his throat. She’d left him! Without even a backward look. Now she sat there, crying as though he was the one to blame.

  He should throw her out right now, Lee thought. Tell her to forget it, as she once so easily had forgotten about him. Tell her to find someone else. Hire a professional bodyguard. She could even go to Tom, his old partner.

  He should just walk away. The way she had nearly three-quarters of a year before. Only that time, she had walked; he would have to limp. His mug hit the table with a loud thunk that echoed through the room.

  No, he couldn’t throw her out. Not like he wanted to. His leg couldn’t manage it. And even if it could, he still couldn’t do it. But that didn’t mean he had to be the one to protect her. There were other people who were qualified to do that.

  “I’m sorry, Erin,” he said quietly. “You’ll have to find someone else. I’m on the disabled list.” It was the truth. So why did it feel as though he was hunting for excuses?

  She blinked at him as though his words surprised her.

  “I’ll pay you anything you want, Lee,” she said.

  He put up a hand, bringing her words to a halt. “Don’t,” he said. “Don’t make offers like that, Erin.” He realized she had no idea how her words and her tears affected him. He wondered what she would do if he took her up on the offer, saying she had to pay him with something other than money.

  Her eyes widened and she appeared to have stopped breathing. For a long moment, Lee had the strange sensation that she knew exactly what he’d been thinking. “Okay,” she began, “but—”

  “No buts. I couldn’t take the job even if I wanted to.” He waited a few anxious seconds after he uttered the words—the first untruth he’d ever spoken to her—to see if he’d be struck by lightning. He wasn’t, of course, but the lie only added to the bitterness within him.

  The truth was he could take the job. Tom had been calling him for weeks, trying to get him back to headquarters. Yes, the leg hurt him, but he could get around. He could sit at a desk and work a phone.

  “If you want, I’ll give you the names of a few guys who can probably help you. Or I could call Tom for you. I’m sure he’d help you.”

  “I don’t trust anyone else,” she flung at him. She’d managed to control the sobs, but the tears were still heavy in her eyes.

  Lee stared down at his coffee, no longer able to bear the haunted, fearful look in her eyes and lie to her. “I’m sorry, Erin,” he said slowly.

  “I see,” she said just as slowly, letting him know that she saw right through his lie. She took a deep breath. “I, um, suppose there isn’t anything I can do to change your mind, is there?”

  She could give him what his body so desperately wanted—hers, he thought. But that was more than he was willing to let her pay. He cleared his throat.

  “You saw a murder?” he asked, trying to sound neutral, but not having much luck.

  “Yes, down at Pier 37.”

  “Let me call Tom—” he began.

  “No,” she interrupted. “I want you to hear the story first.”

  “Tom could be here in fifteen minutes.”

  She was going to cry again. He could see it coming.

  “I don’t want Tom! I came to you. Do you hate me so much that you won’t at least listen to me?” she asked.

  The question threw him. No, he didn’t hate her. That was exactly why he didn’t want to listen to her story. But at the same time, he didn’t exactly like her, either. Maybe it was best to say he wanted her.

  She took another deep breath, trying to regain her self-control. “The house hasn’t changed much, Lee,” she said, saying his name as though she had trouble forcing it out. “But you have. You don’t smile. You haven’t smiled since you opened the door. And you don’t listen, either.”

  “I don’t have much to smile about these days,” he snapped. It was probably closer to months, he realized. “And as for the listening part, I’ll listen. After that, I’m calling Tom. Technically, he’s still my partner.”

  “But he got promoted,” she pointed out, confirming his suspicion that she must have talked to Tom.

  “Yes, he got promoted,” he replied just to satisfy her. “But our partnership has never officially been terminated.” He took another drink of his coffee, knowing it would have to do. It was too early for anything stronger. “Let’s start at the beginning. You’re still living at your dad’s house?” He already knew the answer.

  “His old place outside of Wilmette? It’s right on the lake, remember?”

  Of course he remembered. “Tell me everything you saw, everything that happened,” he prompted.

  “A man by the name of Felix Jenkins sent me a note at the newspaper office and asked me to meet him. He said he knew of something big that was going down, something he felt he needed to tell me. So I met him last Tuesday night at Pier 37—”

  “At night?” he interrupted. “Not a smart move, Erin.”

  “It was all he would agree to. Said he’d been doing some work down on the docks. I knew it was dangerous, but if a person seems to have an important story, sometimes I meet on his terms. Anyway—” she spoke quickly before he could say any more about the danger she’d put herself in “—he wouldn’t let me write anything down or use a tape recorder. He said he wanted to be certain of my ability to protect my sources. But all he got the chance to do was mention something about some robbery that was being planned and tell me the name of a possible lead before—”

  “What name?” Lee broke in to ask.

  “Forest Burke.”

  “Isn’t he an art dealer or something?” The name sounded oddly familiar to Lee.

  “Yes, a collector and connoisseur,” Erin answered.

  “Okay, go on. Before what?” Lee tamped down his lingering anger that she had brought this problem to him and not someone else. He was becoming more and more curious as her story unfolded.

  “Before he thought he heard something,” she continued. “I hid behind some crates. And all of a sudden, this other man popped out of nowhere. He seemed to come right out of the darkness without a sound. He strangled Jenkins with a cord or a wire or something. I don’t know. I couldn’t see exactly what he had in his hands.”

  “There was just the one man?” Lee asked.

  “That’s all I could see.�
� Erin was still holding her cup, but she hadn’t moved since beginning her lengthy explanation.

  “What happened then?” he asked.

  “The man dragged Jenkins’s body to the edge of the pier and dumped it into a small boat moored there. Then he climbed in, started the motor and left,” she explained.

  “What did you do?” Lee couldn’t help but ask.

  “As soon as he left, I got the hell out of there. I was terrified. I remember thinking every shadow was another man waiting to grab me. I called 911 from the phone in my car.”

  “But you didn’t stay at the scene?”

  “I know it was probably stupid of me to leave, but I was afraid the man would be back. So I went to the police station. I work a lot with two detectives, Burger and Reece, getting inside information.”

  “I’ve heard of them,” Lee said. “They’re with the Sixty-third.”

  “That’s right. I told them what happened, what I saw, and they went down there to help out with what little investigation there was. But they said the pier was completely empty. There wasn’t any sign of foul play or a struggle. I told them Jenkins didn’t get much of a chance to struggle. Since they didn’t have a body, there wasn’t much they could do. But they said they’d keep the investigation open.”

  “And you don’t know anything more about this Jenkins guy?” Lee asked, feeling as though he was suddenly standing in mud up to his knees.

  “Nothing.”

  “When you got the phone calls, what did the caller say?”

  “Nothing. I had the feeling someone was just checking up on me. Maybe to scare me, make me nervous.”

  “If the killer didn’t see you, why are you certain these calls have something to do with Jenkins’s murder?”

  “Maybe with the murder or maybe just with the information Jenkins gave me. I don’t know which. Jenkins had my business card. When I first met him, he was hesitant to tell me anything at all. I told him I didn’t have all night. If he made up his mind and wanted to talk, he could call me. I gave him my business card. All the killer would have to do was check his pockets.

  “But the calls didn’t start until after I put Burke’s name into a computer to do some checking. I’d hit one too many dead ends when it came to finding anything on Jenkins, so I thought I’d try Burke. I even called his secretary.”

  “What kind of checking?” Lee asked.

  “Just the usual. I put his name into the computer and didn’t get much—birth date, address, phone number, that kind of thing. Then, like I said, I called his secretary to see if I could schedule an interview, but he declined, saying Burke was too busy at this time,” she explained.

  “Did you find anything to link Jenkins’s story with Burke?” Lee asked.

  “No.”

  “When did all this happen?” Lee asked.

  “I saw Jenkins late Tuesday night. The morning following his murder I started putting names into the computer at the paper.

  “Then yesterday when I went to the grocery store,” she went on, “I thought I noticed someone following me. I don’t feel safe staying alone in the house anymore. I was thinking about checking into a hotel somewhere. I even thought of leaving town and going to New York or something.”

  But then she must have thought of him, Lee realized. Gee, he felt so lucky.

  Her gaze touched him, just as he thought she could have touched him before and gotten anything she wanted. She shivered suddenly. Lee fought the urge to take her in his arms and warm her.

  “Are you certain you were being followed, that it wasn’t just your imagination? Sometimes when you’ve been under a lot of stress—”

  “I’m an investigative reporter, trained to notice things. I know when I’m being followed, Liam! I know when I’m being watched!”

  “Fine. So you’re certain you’re in danger?” he persisted, finally accepting the fact that he cared enough about her to not want anything to happen to her. He also had to acknowledge that he couldn’t walk away from a challenge like this, at least not without searching for a few answers first. Instinct told him she was probably in danger, and it left a cold feeling in his gut. There were just too many coincidences.

  “Yes,” she said.

  “You’ve dealt with threats before when it came to your job,” he couldn’t help but observe.

  “Yes, but nothing like this. And I’ve never seen anyone get murdered before, either.”

  “Do the police have your name? Did you give it to the 911 dispatch?” he asked.

  “Yes, and both Reece and Burger know that I witnessed Jenkins’s murder. I’m sure it all got put into a report somewhere. That means anyone could have seen my name.”

  The kitchen was completely silent for a long moment

  “That’s not all,” she said slowly.

  Hell, he didn’t like the way she said those three little words. That cold feeling in his gut was suddenly replaced by a burning fear. He wasn’t going to like this, not at all. He’d felt this same way on seeing her suitcases in the foyer nine months ago. All she’d said then was “Lee, I have to talk to you,” and he’d known something was wrong. It wasn’t so much her words; it was the slow, even way she’d said them.

  That’s not all.

  Lee waited, unable to stop the burning sensation from filtering through him.

  “Someone tried to run me down in the parking garage of the newspaper office last night.”

  Lee didn’t want to think about this, either. God, why did she have to come to him with this? Why did she have to involve him? “Did you see who was driving the car?” he asked, hardly able to get the words past his parched throat.

  “Just that it was a man,” she replied.

  “The same one from the pier?”

  She shrugged, shifting her shoulders in such a way that her suit jacket tightened over her breasts. Lee’s mouth went suddenly dry, but he didn’t take a drink of his coffee. He couldn’t move.

  “It happened so fast, I hardly had time to get out of the way. I called the police, but all I was able to give them was a brief description of a red car. Do you have any idea how many red cars there are in Chicago?” she asked.

  Lee didn’t.

  “I’m some reporter, huh?” she asked with a bitter chuckle. “I didn’t even get a look at the license plate. After that, I decided to take a leave of absence until things cooled down. So here I am. The only problem is, I don’t think anything’s going to cool down. At least not while I’m alive.”

  She said all this with an odd sort of calm in her voice. Still, her eyes gave her away. He could see the terror in them.

  “Is there anything else I should know about?” he asked, hoping there wasn’t.

  Erin shook her head. “I know this all sounds farfetched, but I have a really bad feeling about this thing. And you always said I should trust my instincts.”

  “I did, didn’t I?” he agreed, remembering full well his advice to her. Then curiosity compelled him to go on. “If we were to assume no one knows you saw the murder, can you think of any reasons at all why someone would be calling you or following you?” he asked after a long moment, telling himself that it was just another question. It didn’t mean he was going back to work, that he was taking on the job of protecting her.

  Her eyes narrowing, she looked at him, hard. “I think someone’s worried about what kind of information I might have dug up on Forest Burke, or maybe the information I might dig up if I keep trying.”

  He should look away, he knew. He should show her the door and be done with her. Spend the next hundred years convincing himself that his body really didn’t ache for her. Tell her to find someone else. Anyone else. But he didn’t move. He just asked another question. There was no harm in just one more question. “Who knows where you live?” He wasn’t sure he wanted to know the answer to that question. “A lover, friends, colleagues, clients you’ve done stories about, enemies you’ve made along the way?”

  “Jack Brennan, the editor at the paper,” sh
e began. “And my partner, Jerry Hartford. He’s my photographer. And I suppose almost anyone could get my address out of my personnel file even though the records are supposed to be confidential.”

  “Your phone number and address are still unlisted, though, right?” Lee asked.

  “Yes. But that doesn’t mean someone couldn’t follow me home from work.”

  Lee met her gaze, only to find her looking at him with hope in her emerald eyes.

  “That’s all?” he asked. “That’s everything?”

  “Yes,” she promised.

  Lee knew that he’d have more questions for her later, after he put some names into a computer to check them out.

  Hell, no, he thought. There would be no later. He wasn’t doing this. He was not stepping in to rescue her. Yes, he was worried about her. Yes, he wanted her. Yes, he cared about her. But protecting her and getting her through this meant getting involved with her. And he wasn’t getting involved with her. Not again. Not ever. He wasn’t getting any closer to her than he was now.

  It just wasn’t going to happen. No matter how much his body tried to convince him otherwise.

  But it was happening.

  Erin said she trusted you, he said to himself. And the truth was, he trusted only himself. No one else. If he handed this job over to anyone else and something happened to Erin, he would never be able to forgive himself. That was why it was happening.

  So he had no choice. None.

  He might as well admit the truth to himself. He’d have to talk to Tom about the details, but there was no longer any doubt about it. He simply couldn’t trust Erin’s safety to anyone else.

  So he’d help her. What then? Erin would be his concern, his responsibility. What nasty words when they were tacked onto his former lover. When they were tacked onto the woman he desired more than anything else in his whole life. The woman who seemed to have the ability to turn his life upside down with just a look.

  Questions flew through his mind. He questioned his ability to keep her safe. He questioned his ability to keep his distance while he worked to keep her safe.

  Hell, then there was the question of his leg. He couldn’t run, and at the rate he was going, he might never run again. He couldn’t chase down a stalker. He couldn’t come rushing in to save Erin if circumstances called for it.