Don't Cry Part 41

So get your sorry a.s.s out of the car and go have supper with your daughter. For Zoe's sake, you can spend a couple of hours in Audrey Sherrod's company without her managing to put a ring through your nose.

Now where the h.e.l.l had that thought come from? What made him think Audrey wanted to put a ring through his nose?

Because it was the women whose strength came wrapped in gentleness who were dangerous to men. Steel magnolias. Velvet steamrollers. Both descriptions fit Audrey. He didn't know how to deal with that type of woman. He had always steered clear of them.

Even his ex-wife had been a tough, in-your-face b.i.t.c.h. That type he knew how to handle. Since his divorce, it had been strictly love 'em and leave 'em. If he'd been smarter, that's what he would have done with Erin. Marrying her had been a huge mistake. But he'd been young and stupid.

Now he was no longer young, and he wasn't going to do anything stupid. He could handle his attraction to Audrey.

Zoe had helped Audrey put a beef roast and vegetables in the Crock-Pot before they left that morning. All they'd had to do was prepare a green salad and pop some store-bought rolls into the oven for dinner. She would have preferred not to see J.D. again so soon, not until she had gotten any foolish notions about him out of her mind. But Zoe wanted to see her father. And Audrey believed that whether he knew it or not, J.D. needed to see his daughter.

She had stayed in the kitchen and let Zoe answer the door and spend some one-on-one time with her father before dinner. When Zoe and J.D. had entered the kitchen, he had nodded, said h.e.l.lo, and thanked her for inviting him to dinner.

"Something sure smells good," he'd said.

During dinner, Audrey managed to keep a pleasant smile in place and held up her end of the conversation. Zoe took the lead by telling J.D. about school, this new boy she liked, and an upcoming field trip tomorrow.

"This boy you keep talking about-?" J.D. asked.

"Noah Brady," Zoe said.

"Yeah, about this Noah Brady-?"

For a second time, Zoe cut J.D. off midsentence. "You'll approve of him. He's fifteen. He doesn't have a car or a driver's license, of course. He doesn't drink or smoke or do drugs. His dad's a banker and his mother is a professor at UTC."

"He's fifteen, huh?" J.D.'s lips twitched. "Sounds about right."

"So, you don't have any objection to our going to a movie together, do you? Maybe this weekend?"

"I'd take Zoe and Noah's mom would bring him; we'd drop the kids off and then pick them up when the movie's over," Audrey explained.

"Sounds as if you two already have this all worked out." He looked at Audrey. "I trust your judgment. If you think it's okay, then-"

Jumping to her feet, Zoe shoved back her chair and hurled herself at J.D. Audrey couldn't help laughing at the shocked look on his face when Zoe actually hugged him.

Pulling back and smiling at her father, Zoe said, "Thank you, thank you, thank you. I promise I'll behave myself and not get into any trouble."

J.D. cleared his throat and then grinned, but he didn't say anything. Audrey suspected that despite evidence to the contrary, J.D. Ca.s.s was not an uncaring, insensitive brute.

"May I be excused?" Zoe asked Audrey. "I want to call Noah and tell him that we're definitely on for Sat.u.r.day night."

"Go call him," Audrey said. "And I'll double-check with his mother in the morning to coordinate-"

Zoe ran out of the kitchen before Audrey finished her sentence, leaving Audrey and J.D. alone. For several minutes, neither of them spoke, but when the tension grew unbearable, Audrey asked if he'd care for dessert.

"Just cookies, I'm afraid," she told him.

He patted his stomach. "Nothing for me, thanks. I couldn't eat another bite."

"Coffee or hot tea or-?"

"No coffee. I've probably drunk enough coffee lately to fill the Tennessee River."

"I know y'all are working around the clock," Audrey said. "Tam's been living on c.o.kes and potato chips." Audrey paused, considered what she wanted to say, and then said it. "She told me that you're not really looking at Hart as a suspect now. I'm glad you know my stepbrother isn't a killer."

"He was never a suspect."

"A person of interest, then." Audrey got up and began clearing the table.

"He's still a person of interest, but not the focus of our investigation." J.D. rose to his feet and immediately a.s.sisted Audrey by stacking his and Zoe's plates and carrying them to the sink. "I'm sure Tam told you that we've got more information to work with now than we've had at any other time since Jill Scott was abducted and murdered."

"Yes, she mentioned it. Just in general terms. Nothing confidential. And Tam says Uncle Garth is like a man obsessed. She's never seen him so crazed with finding a killer. Part of what's riding him so hard is probably knowing that if or when this man kills again, the child he places in Somer Ellis's arms will be Blake."

"Yeah, I'm afraid that's inevitable. Your brother was the fourth Baby Blue toddler and Somer is the fourth kidnap victim."

"How close are you-the TBI and the CPD-to finding him?"

"Closer than we were, but not nearly close enough. Time's running out."

Audrey nodded and then glanced away, not wanting him to see the tears in her eyes. If he tried to comfort her, if he touched her even in the most innocent way, she wasn't sure how she might react.

For the next five minutes, they worked side by side, clearing the table, loading the dishwasher, and cleaning up in the kitchen. And then, as they were going into the living room, what she had dreaded most happened. He placed his hand on the small of her back as he followed her from one room to the other. The moment he touched her, she froze. When she stopped unexpectedly, the action brought his chest in direct contact with her back.

"Audrey?" His voice was low and deep, his mouth close to her ear.

"J.D., please-"

Zoe burst into the room, all but jumping up and down with excitement. "It's all set. Sat.u.r.day night. And we even agreed on the movie we want to see. Isn't that fabulous? Oh, and guess what? He said no Dutch treat. This is a real date and he believes the guy should always pay on a real date."

"He's a smart boy," J.D. said. "Seems somebody's teaching him the right way to treat a lady."

Audrey managed to make her legs move forward so that she could walk away from J.D.

"Supper was great, as was the company," J.D. said. "I hate to eat and run, but-"

Zoe whined, "Ah, J.D., don't go yet." Then she smiled. "Sorry. I know you're working on a very important case and you're trying to find a murderer before he kills again. You should get back to work."

"Who are you, young lady?" J.D. asked playfully. "And what have you done with my daughter Zoe?"

Zoe laughed. Audrey smiled.

J.D. put his arm around Zoe's shoulders and said, "I'll call you tomorrow, and after your big Sat.u.r.day night date, I'll want a full report."

"Come on, I'll walk you out," Zoe said. "And as for a full report...well, you don't want to hear any of the mushy stuff, I'm sure."

Audrey heard him say, "There had better not be any mushy stuff going on," as he and Zoe headed outside onto the porch.

She hadn't intended to eavesdrop when she pa.s.sed the front door on her way into the hall. But she couldn't help overhearing Zoe say, "I'm worried about Audrey. She's been having nightmares. I've heard her crying a couple of nights and this morning early, I heard her screaming. She says it's just bad dreams about the day her little brother disappeared. I wish we could do something to help her."

"Just be as good a friend to her as she's been to you," J.D. said.

"I'll try."

Audrey hurried down the hall before Zoe could come back inside and catch her listening to what was supposed to be a private conversation.

Chapter 32

Hart pumped into the woman lying beneath him, his thrusts increasing with the urgency of an impending climax. She clutched his shoulders, digging her nails into his flesh. The pain sent him over the edge. As the aftershocks rippled through him, she s.h.i.+vered, whimpered, and then cried out as she came. Falling off her and onto his side, Hart opened his eyes and stared up at the ceiling. He had just had mind-blowing s.e.x with a woman whose name he couldn't remember. Iyana? India? No, it was Imani.

When she curled up against him and danced her long, red nails over his chest, he glanced at her. Imani was pretty, with short, curly black hair, sparkling brown eyes, and skin the color of smooth caramel. He had noticed her immediately and picked her up in the bar because she reminded him of Tamara. And from the moment he had stripped her naked and laid her down in his bed, he had made love not to Imani, but to Tam. Always Tam.

Hart rolled out of bed and removed the condom on his way to the bathroom. After taking a p.i.s.s and quickly was.h.i.+ng his genitals, he returned to the bedroom, picked up his discarded jeans from the floor, and slipped into them.

Imani sat up in bed, her melon-sized b.r.e.a.s.t.s revealed as the sheet dropped to her waist. "Playtime over?" she asked.

"Yeah, for tonight," he told her as he gathered up her panties and knee-length sweater dress. "Here, sugar-" He tossed the clothes to her. "Get dressed and I'll take you home. Or back to the bar, if that's where you want to go."

"Who's Tam?" she asked as she flung back the sheet and stood.

"What?"

"You called me Tam a couple of times." Imani went into the bathroom. "Who is she?" she called to him. "Your ex?"

"Yeah," Hart said.

"Want to talk about it, tell me what she did to break your heart?" Imani came out of the bathroom wearing her bikini panties. She reached down on the floor and picked up her bra.

"No."

"Suit yourself." She hooked her front-closure bra and pulled her dress over her head. "And the night's still young, so you can take me back to the bar. Who knows, I might find a guy who can remember my name when he's f.u.c.king me."

"Look, I'm sorry, okay? But you got your cookies off, didn't you? What more were you expecting?"

"You're a real s.h.i.+t, you know that, don't you?" She slipped into her spike heels, walked over to Hart, and gave him the finger. "I'll call a cab. You'll pay for it."

"Sure, whatever you want."

Hart escorted Imani out of his bedroom and into the living room, and she retrieved her purse from the floor where she had dropped it earlier.

The front door swung open and his uncle Garth tromped into the house. He stopped dead still and looked from the empty beer bottles on the coffee table to Hart and then to the sultry woman at his side.

"G.o.d d.a.m.n it, Hart, what's this?" Garth demanded.

"By this, are you talking about me? If you are, then 'this' is a woman," Imani said. "And 'this' is leaving just as soon as Hart calls me a cab."

"You got a cell phone with you?" Garth asked.

"In my purse," she replied.

Garth jerked his wallet from his pocket, opened it, took out a fifty, and handed it to Imani. "Get out and call yourself a cab."

"Who the h.e.l.l do you think you are?" She snarled the question.

"I'm the man who's going to toss your a.s.s out onto the sidewalk if you don't get out now," Garth told her.

"Some friend you've got." Imani flashed Hart an angry glare, gave Garth the finger, and headed for the door.

As soon as the door slammed shut, Hart was left alone to face his uncle's wrath. "Yes, I picked her up in a bar. And yes, I had a few beers and I drove when I shouldn't have. But I promise you that-"

"Shut the h.e.l.l up!" Garth yelled at him. "You know d.a.m.n well what's about to happen. How can you bring home some spicy piece of a.s.s and get drunk and maybe say or do-?"

"Booze and s.e.x help me forget," Hart said. "You know that. You've used both for as long as I've known you for the same reasons."

"I won't deny it, but d.a.m.n it, boy, you need to pull yourself together. We've got trouble heading our way." Garth removed his jacket, but left his shoulder holster in place. "If we can't find our killer in time to stop him from murdering Somer Ellis, then she's going to show up in a rocking chair somewhere with a toddler's skeleton in her arms. And we both know who that toddler is going to be, don't we?"

Hart followed Garth into the kitchen and watched while his uncle removed a box of leftover Chinese takeout and a water bottle from the refrigerator.

"Is there any chance y'all can stop him before it's too late?" Hart asked.

Garth set the water bottle on the table and then dumped the leftovers onto a plate and stuck the plate in the microwave. "If we're lucky, real G.o.dd.a.m.n lucky, it could happen."

"At least I'm no longer a suspect." Hart snorted. "Ironic, huh, that Special Agent Ca.s.s thought I might be the Rocking Chair Killer."

"You're not a murderer. It's not in you to deliberately harm another human being." Garth removed the plate from the microwave, set it on the small kitchen table, and then pulled out a chair.

Hart sat down at the table opposite his uncle. "What'll happen if he kills Somer Ellis and another Baby Blue toddler shows up?"

Garth wolfed down several huge bites of chicken-fried rice and chugalugged the water. He looked at Hart. "We hang in there together, as a family, you and me and Audrey and Wayne."

"That's a given," Hart said. "But that wasn't what I was talking about."

"I know. Try not to worry. I'll figure out something. There has to be some sort of reasonable explanation," Garth said. "But I can't deal with work, with our problem, and take care of you all at the same time. I need you to straighten up and fly right until this is all over, one way or another. Can you do that, boy? Tell me you can. I want to hear you say the words."

Garth reached across the table and patted Hart's cheek as if he were still a child. He supposed in many ways, he hadn't grown up...and never would.

"I can do it, Uncle Garth. I swear I can."