Syd Parker - The Killing Ground

She opened her door and shot him a look. “And we need to find Dr. Stein again. Something tells me he might be guilty of more than just fraud.”

Rick pushed off the car and stepped towards Matt. “How about we follow up with Mrs. Dawson? I don’t think she’s too keen on you anyway. You and Agent Gray need to see if you can talk to Richard Hudson again and find out if there is a reason Dr. Stein would be targeting him.”

Rebecca opened her mouth to protest, but quieted when she saw the look Rick was giving her. Had it been anyone else, she would have told him to fuck off as rudely as possible, but this was her partner, and she trusted his judgment.

Rick held his hand up, and she threw the keys over the car begrudgingly. “Agent Gray, can you make sure our little Foxx makes it home safe and sound?”

Jordan’s lip curled up. She would almost bet Rick was throwing them together on purpose. She shot him a grateful smile and could swear she saw him smirk knowingly.

Jordan tossed her keys up and down loudly, mocking Rebecca and her misfortune at being forced to ride with her. She pivoted and headed toward her car without a word. She was just starting the car when Rebecca opened the door and flopped down on the passenger seat.

Rebecca watched Jordan slide the shifter into first gear with practiced skill, her long fingers almost caressing the knob. She felt a shudder run through her body, and she had to force away images of Jordan stroking her until she came out of her mind. She let out a loud sigh. “This doesn’t mean anything.”

“What would it mean?” Jordan cocked an eyebrow questioningly. “We’re investigating a lead. Nothing more.”

Rebecca let out a disappointed sigh. She wasn’t sure what she wanted Jordan to do or say. All day, a quiet nagging pulled at her from somewhere in the recesses of her mind. She had acted irrationally this morning, and in her haste, lashed out at Jordan for no reason. Despite her feelings of guilt, she wasn’t sure exactly how to smooth things over. Saying she was sorry seemed inadequate.

She studied Jordan’s jaw in the late-afternoon sun and marveled at how handsome she was. The muscles in her jaw clenched reflexively, and Rebecca knew she was still pissed. She had every right to be. She had practically dumped her this morning, accused her of sleeping with Dr. Mercer. No wonder she was angry with her.

Rebecca watched her closely, waiting for Jordan to feel her gaze and turn and meet her eyes. It never happened, and the miles burned away in uncomfortable silence. Finally, unable to take the distance she had put between them, she laid her hand on Jordan’s thigh. She felt the tight muscles ripple beneath her palm and half-expected her to push her away. “Remember that night?”

Jordan didn’t answer right away. Of course she remembered that night. Her body still ached from sex in the close confines of her car. At the time, they hadn’t been able to keep their hands off of each other. Looking back, anywhere but the car would probably have felt better. Unable to stop herself, she chuckled. “Yeah, I remember.” After what seemed an indeterminate wait, Jordan’s hand came off the gearshift and covered Rebecca’s.

It wasn’t a perfect way to fix things, and Rebecca knew she would still have some amends to make, but it was a start. More than she would have allowed herself with any woman before and when her chest clenched tightly, Rebecca knew that she would spend a lifetime making amends if she needed too.

Jordan brought the car to stop in front of Richard Hudson’s house, and she squeezed Rebecca’s hand reassuringly. Maybe it was her way of saying we are okay for now, or offering her strength for what they were about to do. It didn’t matter which, for Rebecca felt like with Jordan at her side, she would be able to face anything.

They knocked on Richard Hudson’s door and waited, hoping he would at least agree to talk to them. The past couple of months had been hell on him. Falsely arrested and accused of his wife’s murder, as well as the other victims at the hand of the Chicago Detective Division would put Rebecca pretty far down on the list of people he would be willing to talk to. She only hoped that his desire to catch his wife’s killer would help outweigh his outrage.

When he finally answered the door, the hatred was evident on his face, and Rebecca expected him to order them off his porch. He looked much more haggard than he had two months ago. His skin was sunken and sallow, and his eyes looked empty. He looked to be thirty pounds lighter than he was when they first met, and she thought emaciated was a good word to describe him. “Talk to my lawyer.”

Rebecca worried that he might play that card. What they needed right now wasn’t him lawyering up, although she understood. “Mr. Hudson, please. Tell us about Dr. Stein.”

The door stopped closing, and he met her with a searing glare. Maybe, he could hear the desperation in her voice. Perhaps it matched his own. More than likely, she was right, and Dr. Stein had more to do with the murders than he let on. “What?”

“Elizabeth’s killer is still out there. We need help finding him.” Her voice held an almost desperate tone, which she hoped he would pick up on and agree to at least talk to them. “We just want to ask you a few questions about Dr. Phillip Stein.”

Richard Hudson rubbed his eyes with his thumb and forefinger. He dropped his head wearily and opened the door, letting them in.

Jordan followed Rebecca in. He motioned toward the couch and flopped down opposite of them in a large recliner. Jordan eyed the half-empty bottle of whiskey on the coffee table. From the looks of it, he was subsisting on alcohol only and eating very little. “Mr. Hudson, we appreciate you letting us in. We’re hoping you can give us some information on Dr. Stein.”

The look of anger that had previously mellowed into mild disdain came back full force. “I’ll help anyway I can. I told you that before. My only concern is catching Lizzie’s killer and bringing him to justice.” He downed the glass and refilled it before he continued. “At least this time, you aren’t concentrating on the wrong man.”

Rebecca winced. It wasn’t often that the forensic evidence pointed to the wrong person and truth be told, she felt like shit for imprisoning the wrong person and allowing one more woman to die. “We’re very sorry, Mr. Hudson. I can’t make up for that, but I can promise to do whatever is in my power to catch the real killer. Your wife…and you deserve that.”

“Thank you for that. No one ever tells you they are sorry. Just some shit about how the forensic evidence isn’t always a hundred percent, no skin off your back. Stuff like that.” He downed another shot and refilled it again. His hands shook unsteadily, and drops of whiskey hit the table and splashed almost silently. “What do you need to know about that bastard?”

Rebecca’s eyebrows shot up, and she threw Jordan a look. It would seem that not everyone was a fan of Dr. Stein, and they were about to find out why. “What can you tell us about Dr. Stein?”

“Besides the fact that the guy is a royal fucker, not much.” He leaned back in his chair and closed his eyes. He was silent for several moments, and Jordan could almost sense that he was replaying some past meeting. “The guy is supposed to be some miracle worker, giving unlucky women the gift of children, and he was nothing more than a wolf in sheep’s clothing. That bastard hit on my wife.”

Rebecca’s sixth sense suddenly went wild. Things were suddenly starting to fall into place. “What happened?”

“What do you mean, what happened?” Richard leaned forward again, eyes flashing. “I put him in his place. Never messed with her again.”