Don't Cry Part 32

J.D. rose from his chair and faced the other man.

"You don't want to make an enemy out of me, Ca.s.s," Garth told him. "Leave my nephew alone and we'll pretend today's interview never happened."

"What are you so afraid of?" J.D. asked. "Do you think if I keep digging, I'm going to find out that Hart Roberts is somehow connected to the murders?"

"d.a.m.n you, Ca.s.s. I'm warning you. Hart is in no way connected to the murders."

"If that's true, then why are you so bent out of shape about my interviewing him?"

"I've given you fair warning. Leave Hart alone or you'll regret it."

Chapter 24

Hart had used the interview with TBI Special Agent Ca.s.s as an excuse to get rip-roaring drunk Monday night. He barely remembered the fight he'd gotten into with some biker who'd come on to Jessica. Uncle Garth had bailed him out of jail this morning and reminded him that what he'd done would keep him front and center on Ca.s.s's radar. Once again, his uncle had rescued him. Once again, he had disappointed the man who'd been like a father to him.

"I'm sorry," he'd said. "I know my apologies aren't worth much, but-"

"Save the apologies. Show me that you're sorry, prove it to me."

"How?"

"Audrey's waiting outside in her car to take you to a meeting," Garth had told him. "Go with her and do whatever she tells you to do. If she says go to half a dozen meetings a day, you go. If she says you go back into rehab, you go. If she says jump off the Walnut Street Bridge, you jump."

"Okay, okay, I get the idea. Audrey is the boss."

And so he'd gone to the meeting, and afterward, Audrey had picked him up and was now issuing him a list of dos and don'ts. "You're going to, at the very least, one meeting a day. You're staying out of bars. You're going to the employment office and tell them you want a job. You will go to whatever job interviews they send you on, and you're going to work, I don't care if it's sweeping floors or was.h.i.+ng dishes."

"Yes, ma'am." He saluted her.

"This isn't funny." She shot him a condemning glare.

"Sorry. I know it's not funny, but lighten up, will you?"

"Do you have any idea how serious it is to be questioned by the TBI? I know you are not involved in any way with the Rocking Chair Murders, but my G.o.d, Hart, why give J.D. Ca.s.s more ammunition against you?"

Audrey was right. She was always right. Getting drunk and winding up in jail had been a stupid mistake, one more in a long line of stupid mistakes.

"Why don't you just give up on me?" he asked her.

"d.a.m.n it, Hart, stop feeling sorry for yourself."

"h.e.l.l, sis, it seems to be the only thing I'm good at."

She cast him a sidelong glance and released a heavy, exasperated breath. "One other thing-don't see Jessica Smith again. She's a sweet kid, and if you continue seeing her, she'll wind up getting hurt."

Hart wanted to protest, wanted to tell Audrey that she had no say-so in who he dated, but he couldn't deny that she was right. He had a history of breaking hearts. "Yeah, you're right. I need to stick to one-night stands with women who know the score."

"Then you'll end things with Jessica as soon as possible?"

"There really isn't much to end. We've had two dates and a good-night kiss."

"Good," Audrey said, then continued with instructions for how he was going to live his life for the immediate future. "I'll drop you at the employment office. Take a cab home. I've arranged for your sponsor to check in on you several times each day for the next week or so. Garth can't baby-sit you, and neither can I. But if you need either of us-"

"You'll come wipe my nose and change my dirty diaper."

She didn't respond to his flippant comment or even glance his way. He couldn't blame her. h.e.l.l, he wouldn't blame her if she washed her hands of him completely. But that wasn't Audrey's style. No, she was loyal and steadfast and forgiving. And a natural-born caretaker. She should have gotten married and had kids. She'd make a great mother.

"I don't know what I'd do without you," Hart admitted. "You and Uncle Garth. I'd be dead by now if you two hadn't taken care of me all these years."

"We love you, you know that." She kept her gaze fixed on the road. "You're family. You're my brother."

"Lucky me. Unlucky you."

Unlucky Blake, too. If I'd been taking care of him the way I was supposed to, he'd still be alive and all our lives would be so different. So very, very different...

J.D. had debated what to do about Garth Hudson's threat. Leave Hart alone or you'll regret it. Leave Hart alone or you'll regret it. Had the warning been nothing more than an uncle's concern for his nephew, an angry outburst from a man with a reputation as a hothead? J.D. understood only too well how a man could lose his cool and say something he shouldn't. He'd done it more than once himself. But the deciding factor had been obvious-could Sergeant Hudson continue as the senior investigating officer on the Rocking Chair Killer cases and remain objective? J.D. didn't think so. But when he had spoken to his boss late yesterday, Phil had suggested waiting. Had the warning been nothing more than an uncle's concern for his nephew, an angry outburst from a man with a reputation as a hothead? J.D. understood only too well how a man could lose his cool and say something he shouldn't. He'd done it more than once himself. But the deciding factor had been obvious-could Sergeant Hudson continue as the senior investigating officer on the Rocking Chair Killer cases and remain objective? J.D. didn't think so. But when he had spoken to his boss late yesterday, Phil had suggested waiting.

"Let's see how things play out over the next few days. Hudson may have cooled off by now. If he's uncooperative and causes any problems for you, then I'll personally talk to Willie Mullins."

A face-to-face with Garth today had been avoided, partly because Garth had been too busy bailing his nephew out of lockup. Apparently Hart Roberts had gotten drunk and wound up in a brawl with another customer at a local dive. From everything J.D. had learned about Roberts, the man seemed to live his life as if he was on a suicide mission. If there was a wrong choice to be made, the guy made it.

Deciding to work alone in his office all morning, J.D. had come up with the answers to several questions concerning recently acquired information. After lunch, he had gathered up all the info and gone to CPD headquarters. He had to admit that when he found Tam alone in the office she shared with Garth, he had been relieved.

Tam was on the phone when he walked in. She glanced up and motioned for him to take a seat.

"He just walked in," she said. "Yeah, I'll fill him in." She paused to listen. "Okay. Call me when you're on your way and I'll meet you there." She hung up the phone and turned to J.D. "That was Garth."

J.D. nodded.

"He picked up Whitney Poole's mother from the airport and dropped her off at the Holiday Inn. She lives in Detroit. According to the mom, she and Whitney hadn't seen each other in nearly four years. Whitney and her stepfather didn't get along."

"Hmm...Still, it had to be hard for the mother to learn her daughter had been murdered."

"I'm sure it is hard for her. No matter what, there's a bond between a parent and child, right?"

J.D. nodded. What could he say? I'm still trying to bond with my child. I'm still trying to bond with my child.

"Do you have a few minutes or will you be leaving soon?" he asked.

"I'm all yours until Garth calls back." She looked at J.D. then and said, "I guess you know about Hart, don't you?"

"Yeah, I heard."

"Garth's going by his place to check on Hart before he comes back here."

Then where are y'all going? he wanted to ask, but didn't. Instead he told her why he was there. "I did some checking about that glow-in-the-dark 'Smile! Your mother chose life!' b.u.mper sticker, and I'm afraid what I found out won't help us much. They sell them on the Internet at dozens of sites. It seems that one is a popular sticker. Several churches in Hamilton County even ordered them by the hundreds to distribute to their paris.h.i.+oners." he wanted to ask, but didn't. Instead he told her why he was there. "I did some checking about that glow-in-the-dark 'Smile! Your mother chose life!' b.u.mper sticker, and I'm afraid what I found out won't help us much. They sell them on the Internet at dozens of sites. It seems that one is a popular sticker. Several churches in Hamilton County even ordered them by the hundreds to distribute to their paris.h.i.+oners."

"Meaning tracing that one particular b.u.mper sticker is highly unlikely."

"Yeah, that's pretty much a dead end," J.D. told her. "But we had better luck with the eighties white Lincoln."

Tam's eyes brightened with interest. "Tell me."

"I did a cross-check. Eighties white Lincoln with the names of the Rocking Chair Killer's victims, their parents and siblings as well as with the names of the parents and siblings of all the Baby Blue toddlers."

"And?"

"And nothing."

Tam narrowed her gaze and frowned. "Then what?"

"I ran a cross-check with the names Regina Bennett, Corey Bennett, and Luther and Dora Chaney."

"The aunt and uncle?" Tam's eyes again brightened with interest.

"Bingo. Luther Chaney owned a white 1980 Lincoln Town Car." J.D. couldn't help smiling. "He bought it used in '82, but there is no record of the car ever being sold again."

"The uncle died not long after Regina Bennett was arrested, more than twenty-three years ago, so that must mean the aunt kept the car. So, where is the aunt now?"

"Dead," J.D. said. "Dora Chaney pa.s.sed away a couple of years ago. Not long after her husband died, she left Sale Creek, moved to Bristol, and remarried. I've put out queries up that way to find out if anyone remembers her and if her second husband is still alive. If we can trace what happened to that old Lincoln, it could lead us straight to our killer."

"We should get so lucky."

"Who'd think an old wino getting a glimpse of a car the night Whitney Poole's body was placed in the antique store could actually be the one bit of info that might crack this case wide open."

J.D. parked his Camaro, sat in the car for a couple of minutes, and then made himself get out and walk toward the town house. This was the last place on earth he wanted to be, but it seemed he couldn't stay away. Audrey Sherrod was the last person he wanted to see. What made matters even worse was that he suspected Zoe had purposely arranged this little scenario.

"Please, Daddy, you have to stop by Audrey's and get my notebook. My geometry homework is in it and I have to finish it tonight."

Audrey had picked Zoe up from school that afternoon and they had gone shopping for a Halloween costume for Zoe. All the kids at Baylor dressed in costume for the holiday, but since it was only early October, he hadn't seen the necessity for them to shop so early.

"All the great costumes will be gone," Zoe had whined. "Besides, if we don't find what I want, Audrey says we can make the outfit ourselves. She knows how to sew. Her friend Tam's mom taught her."

J.D. had reluctantly agreed to go by Audrey's and pick up the notebook, but he had cautioned Zoe, "Don't let this happen again. Understood?"

"Yes, sir. Understood."

He rang the doorbell and waited. And waited. He rang the bell again. Audrey was at home, or she was supposed to be. He had told Zoe to call her and tell her he was dropping by and why. Just as he rang the doorbell for the third time, he heard a woman scream.

"Audrey! Audrey!" He rang the bell repeatedly and then pounded on the door.

Just as he was about to look for another way in, possibly break out a window, the door opened and Audrey practically threw Zoe's notebook at him. But he didn't pay much attention to the notebook; he was too concerned about Audrey's appearance. Her face was flushed. Long, mussed tendrils of her hair had escaped from their usual neat confinement, one curling at chin level and the other down the back of her neck. It was obvious she'd been crying. And she had that half-dazed look a person has during those first few minutes after awakening.

"Are you okay?" he asked. "I heard you scream."

"I'm fine," she replied curtly.

"No, you're not. What's wrong?"

When she tried to close the door in his face, he grasped the edge of the door and stuck his foot over the threshold. She didn't try to stop him as he shoved open the door completely and moved toward her.

"Would you please just take Zoe's notebook and leave."

"Not until you tell me why you screamed."

She closed her eyes and heaved a heavy, resigned sigh.

J.D. closed the door behind him, and then turned back to Audrey. "You look like you could use a stiff drink."

"Drinking doesn't solve a person's problems, and it certainly doesn't chase away nightmares."

"Is that why you screamed, you had a nightmare? It's a little early for bedtime, isn't it?" He glanced at his watch-8:35 P.M.-for emphasis.

"It's been a long day. I didn't sleep well last night and I dozed off on the sofa." She frowned. "Why am I telling you this? It's none of your business."

"Don't you recommend talking through your problems, Dr. Sherrod?" He was trying to lighten the mood, but noting her deepening frown, he accepted the fact that she was in no mood for levity. "That must have been some nightmare."

"If I wanted to talk about my nightmares, it certainly wouldn't be with you."

Audrey crossed her arms over her chest, the action bringing his attention to her b.r.e.a.s.t.s. She wasn't wearing a bra underneath that soft, velvety pullover.

"Why not? I'm here. And I'm willing to listen." He did his best to keep his gaze at eye level, despite the temptation to take another look at her braless b.r.e.a.s.t.s.

"You're not leaving until I open up a vein and bleed all over you, are you?"

J.D.'s lips twitched as he tried not to smile. "You certainly have a dramatic way of expressing yourself, Dr. Sherrod."

"Will you please stop calling me Dr. Sherrod."

"Are we back on a first-name basis?"

"You really are insufferable, aren't you?"