Kasey Michaels - Mischief 24/7

“I agree that we’re close. I’ll give you that much.”

“Good. So, please, let’s not argue. Although, if you want me to yell at you, you could always try that ‘I forbid it’ line again. Now excuse me, I’m going to go shower and look over the files one last time. I’m betting we have more of the answers, more of the puzzle pieces, than we think we do, more fact than conjecture. I can’t sleep anymore, anyway. Besides, don’t you have phone calls to make?”

“I do, unfortunately,” Court said, and sighed. He looked rumpled, and worried, but Jade could see that his sharp mind was also considering the ramifications of the phone call. “He did say it. I heard him. Knotty pine. He could have said ‘the wall,’ or even just ‘paneling,’ but he was specific.”

“And, according to the decorating magazines, knotty pine isn’t exactly a big trend out there right now.”

“And probably hasn’t been since the middle of the last century. Teddy’s whole office was one big time warp. Brainard really slipped up with that one. What I’m not quite getting is why he’s making these calls at all. I mean, what’s the point?

Nobody ever backed away from something important because of a threatening phone call.”

“Maybe not you, Court, not a man —but a woman might,” Jade pointed out sarcastically. “At least that’s how a man who has no real respect or regard for women might think about it. The calls make for one more nail in Brainard’s coffin—something else that leads straight back to him. I’d say he’s afraid of what we’re doing, but even I don’t completely buy that one.”

“I understand. He’s worried, but he still thinks he’s in the driver’s seat.”

“His ego again, right. He thinks he committed the perfect crimes all those years ago, and again now. Reaching out to touch us, talking about seeing Teddy? That was arrogance, Court, plain and simple. And a man who can’t stand not being in control, not being the one giving the orders. He almost told us who he is with this latest phone call, although I doubt that was part of his plan.”

“He’s someone used to being obeyed, as well, maybe used to having his name and background pave over any potholes for him.”

“Exactly. That threat about Jessica was a sort of ultimatum—drop what you’re doing or suffer the consequences. He had control for a while, too, until I heard Jess’s voice. Then I took control back by hanging up on him. It’s all shrink stuff I’ve read about a thousand times, the ceding and taking of power. We’re not dealing with Joe Blow Average Guy here, Court. We’re dealing with a man used to being in the catbird seat his entire life, giving all the orders and getting what he wants. Which again leads right back to Joshua Brainard. He fits the bill, right down to his poor opinion of women. He cheated on his wife, remember?”

“So that’s what, bottom line, you think these phone calls have been about? The man is trying to control you? You?” Now Court smiled, but it was a self-mocking smile. “Lots of luck with that. I’m still living with the consequences of my own stab at offering you an ultimatum. And no, we probably don’t want to go there right now, so I’ll shut up.”

“Who says men aren’t intuitive?” she quipped, trying to smile. This was no time for ancient history. But the time was coming, and they both knew that. In some strange way, Teddy’s death, the old cases, Brainard’s imminent arrest for murder, they were all preludes to the main event. At some point, she and Court had to talk about the past. Only then could they consider a future.

He leaned in and kissed her cheek. “You’ll be all right? We have an agreement here? No ditching me and sneaking down the back staircase and out into the foggy, early-morning darkness, swirling your cape as you head off to confront Joshua Brainard on your own?”

“Last time I had to do a pinky-swear was with Jess, when she was eleven. Yes, I promise.”

“I’d ask what a pinky-swear is, but it’s probably a girl thing, right?”

“Pretty much. And I haven’t been entirely honest with you. I checked on the Internet, and Brainard isn’t scheduled to appear in public until seven-thirty tonight. We have all day to get through before anybody swirls any capes.”

“So Matt and Jess will most probably be back by then. And you made me go through all that business about warning you not to try anything on your own?”

Jade nodded, feeling almost childish. “Yeah. You’re cute when you’re concerned. I mean, I could have done without that ‘I forbid it’ part, but the rest was pretty nice. I, uh, I like when you care. It’s nice.”

“No, Jade. It’s love,” Court said quietly. He was silent for a moment while she felt herself longing to melt into his arms. “Okay, then. I’ll see you downstairs at seven.”

“If Mrs. Archer isn’t up yet, I’ll make us some bacon and eggs,” Jade promised as she lifted her hand in a halfhearted wave. Once Court was gone, she grabbed clean underclothes from a drawer and half ran for the bathroom, feeling the need to wash away the fear she’d felt when she’d thought Jessica might be in danger. She shouldn’t have let Brainard be the one in control, not even for a moment.

“Always be the one pulling the strings, Jade, honey, never the one dancing to someone else’s tune at the end of them,” Teddy had told her more than once when he’d explained the balance of power as it applied to the way he’d worked suspects during his years on the police force. She had the strings now, nearly all of them, Jade believed, and it was time to make Joshua Brainard dance to her tune.

Daylight couldn’t come soon enough for her, and the all-day wait until Brainard’s first public appearance at his seven-thirty rally seemed light-years in the future. Still, she had to prepare, as well as find a way to fill the hours. She’d read those damn files so often she knew most of them by heart. She’d give them one more shot, but she couldn’t face another day of doing nothing but reading them again.

She had a command of the facts now. She’d filled in any blanks with supposition and intuition. She’d practiced a killer opening line for when she confronted Brainard, sure, but after that she was prepared to simply wing it, go where Brainard took her for a while and then lead him where she needed him to go.

She’d save the Baby in the Dumpster for her coup de grâce, hit him right where he lived. No quarter, as Teddy would crow, no mercy.

So maybe, to kill some time, she’d do a little more work on the Scholar Athlete case, the one she’d chosen when she and Jess and Jolie had first divided up the cold cases. Jermayne Johnson haunted her, the sad, lost little boy still residing deep inside that huge, mostly grown-up body. If she needed closure about Teddy’s death, how Jermayne must have been longing for the same thing in his brother’s case this past decade and more.

Yes, that was what she’d do. She’d take another run at Jermayne, press him to remember more about the friends his brother, Terrell, had run with before he was killed, things like that. People knew, remembered, more than they thought they did. It was just a matter of coming at them from the right angle. You could ask the same question a dozen times and not be happy with the answer, and then, the thirteenth time, trying yet another approach, you could hit pay dirt.

Court could go with her, since he was feeling so protective of her. She had a feeling he’d be like gum on the bottom of her shoe until Joshua Brainard was arrested.

Then again, Court Becket, rich and powerful, also liked being in control. That was why they’d fought. That was why they’d both won their last argument, just as they’d both also lost it.