Buried Secrets: A dark Romantic Suspense (The Buried Series Book 2) Page 24

  “Jenna?”

  Like he didn’t know who she was. “Hey. I needed to see Carla.” Darn it. She shouldn’t have answered his unasked question about the purpose of her visit. It made her look like she’d come to see him.

  “Are you doing okay?”

  Why wouldn’t she be? Just because she cried her eyes out last night and her stomach was so upset she had a hard time keeping food down didn’t mean she wasn’t okay. “Peachy.”

  He ran a gaze over the length of her, long and slow. She held her breath, waiting for him to tell her he was sorry. He pressed his lips together, ducked his head and slid past her without a touch. And then the faint hint of bleach wafted past her.

  Half of her wanted to grab his arm and shake him, but Holliday’s didn’t beg.

  Hurrying as fast as she could, she flew down the rest of the stairs, ran through the foyer, and dashed outside. The cold air slapped her in the face. Stupid move, Jenna, what did you expect to happen? The tears nearly spilled over her lashes as she raced to her car.

  For the next four days Jenna’s routine didn’t vary. She’d sleep until noon, eat a little something and visit her dad in the hospital for an hour or two. Each time she sat with him, their relationship improved. He’d explained, to the best of his ability, why things had gone wrong between him and her mom, and why she couldn’t live with dying a slow painful death. Jenna didn’t hug him goodbye, but at least she didn’t stomp out after the visit like she used to. To her, that was called progress.

  Today, however, she didn’t have the energy to see him or do much of anything. Christmas was closing in on her and wanted to buy something for her father, even if it was the usual tie she bought every year, but she was too tired to think right now. What she needed was a nap.

  By tonight, the crowds should have thinned and she could venture out. Jenna crawled into bed and within minutes dozed off. A knock on the front door entered her dream. It took a series of knocks before full awareness arrived.

  Sam!!

  She jumped out of the bed with a huge smile on her face and her heart racing faster than an AK15 spitted out rounds. He’d come back! She glanced at the clock, surprised by the darkness outside. She’d slept more than four hours. Who cared? Sam had returned.

  She couldn’t think of a better Christmas present than making love with him. She flung open the door, and her chest deflated. Not Sam. Damn. In fact, she’d never seen this person before. “Yes?” The older woman’s hair was teased into a beehive like the kind Jenna had seen on those old TV shows from the 50’s and the lady’s form-fitting dress and pearl necklace backed up the ancient look.

  The woman held out her hand. “I’m Kathy Bello. Bianca was my daughter. May we talk?”

  The mother of the dead girl. Heaven help her. “Of course. Come in.” Jenna scooped up the left over meal from the table and tossed the plate in the sink. “Sorry about the mess.”

  Kathy sat stiffly in the chair. “I probably should go to the police, but I’m too afraid he’ll find out.”

  “I am a cop you know.”

  “Yes, but if what I believe is true, not only is my life in danger, so is yours.”

  Jenna’s brain hadn’t woken up yet. “I don’t understand.”

  “My brother is Marlon Giombetti.”

  Jenna smiled. “Marlon? He’s a good cop. Why not talk to him?”

  Kathy leaned forward. “May I have some water?”

  “Sure.” She recognized the stall tactic for what it was and pulled a clean glass from the cabinet. Jenna set the full glass in front of her guest. “Here you go. Did something happen to Marlon? You did hear he saved my life?”

  “That’s what your captain said.” Kathy wound her fingers together. “Let me begin by saying I’m sorry you had to be the one drugged and kidnapped.” She dabbed her nose and eyes. “The police told me how Bianca had died. I think maybe the same person who killed her, kidnapped you.”

  “I don’t understand.” Bianca was shot, whereas Jenna was kidnapped, though had she not had a gun, the kidnapper might have killed her.

  “That man who hurt you was our younger brother, Enzio Giombetti. And Marlon directed him—told him who to kill. At least, that’s what I suspect.”

  Every nerve ending exploded. “I don’t believe it. Not only did Marlon save my life, he saved my father’s too. Marlon is a hero, not a killer.” Kathy glanced over her shoulder at the door, looking as if she expected her brother to burst in any minute. Jenna jumped up and locked the door in case the woman was correct. “How can you be sure he’s behind the killings?” Jenna sat down again. “He’s a cop.”

  “That’s what gives him his power. When your father and my mom had an affair all those years ago, Dad was pissed and left. Mom was saddled with three kids and no job. Then came along this rich guy, Creighton Jackson.”

  “Oh, shit. Creighton was your step-dad?”

  Marlon was in charge of the investigation. What had he said? That he found the bullet that killed the man. “Did Marlon kill him?”

  Kathy dragged her fingers down her mouth. “I don’t know, but I’m glad he’s dead. Creighton was nothing but trouble for our family.”

  “How?”

  “The bastard took out his frustrations on both of my brothers, but we needed his financial support, so Mom stayed. I was twenty-five and married at the time, so I wasn’t around to see first hand what he did to my brothers. Both changed after a few years, for the worse.”

  “And your mom? Why didn’t she stop him?”

  “The boys never told her. Apparently Creighton said he’d hurt Mom if they did.” Kathy opened her purse, dragged out a lace handkerchief and dabbed her nose. “She died a few years after she married Creighton, though I swear there was nothing wrong with her. “I wouldn’t put it past Creighton to have poisoned her. He pulled some strings and had her cremated without an autopsy. After that, Marlon and Enzio started to rebel. They killed Creighton’s dog, and then set fire to the barn behind his house. Marlon was the one with the brains. Once he turned fifteen, he convinced Enzio to do his dirty work—until recently.”

  None of this made any sense. “Marlon’s always been cheerful around the precinct. He follows the rules. Do you have any evidence he’s a killer?” Jenna went into cop mode. She watched Kathy’s body language, her eye movement, and her facial expression for some evidence of a lie, but found only openness. If Jenna thought about the ramifications, she wouldn’t be able to function.

  “He made my husband make him masks so no one would recognize him when he killed.” Like the man who wore the mask who blew up her car. “I followed Marlon once to Creighton’s boat, but he didn’t see me. Deidra, Creighton’s newest girlfriend, showed up later. When someone fired a gun, she ran.”

  “But you stayed.”

  “Yes. Marlon came out about half an hour later. I wanted to call 9-1-1 but knew if he found out, he’d kill me.”

  Jenna absorbed the information wondering if maybe Kathy was the killer and not Marlon. There could be some kind of transference going on and that she lived in denial. Perhaps she orchestrated the whole affair, and Marlon figured the only way to get justice in this life was to become a cop. No way would Jenna have slept with a man capable of killing so many.

  Kathy finished off the water. “I see you don’t believe me.”

  “Regardless of whether I do or don’t doesn’t matter, I think you should have protection.” From herself. “I’ll call the captain to see what he can do.” Jenna stood hoping Kathy would take the hint and leave.

  “You can’t tell him. Marlon will find out.” She dragged a finger under eye. Jenna couldn’t tell if the tear was real. “I do have proof.”

  “What kind?”

  “I decided to confront Marlon about the killings.” Jenna gasped. “I know, I know what I did was stupid, but I had to know if he killed my daughter. Don’t worry, I went over to his house, but he wasn’t home. I have a key to his place, you see. I figured he had to come home eventually so I
let myself in. As I passed the guest room, I smelled something foul coming from the closet.”

  “Before you continue, tell me why didn’t you go to the station and speak with him there? It would have been a hell of lot safer.”

  “I did, but no one had seen him. Not even Andrea, his partner.”

  Jenna hadn’t gone to work in days, what with the depression and the holidays, so maybe what Kathy said was true. Her mind raced back to the topic of the smell. “What kind of smell?”

  “Like a dead body kind of smell.”

  Jenna stiffened. “Did you find this dead body?”

  “I found a head.”

  She sucked in a breath, the image of Creighton without his head surfaced. “A head?”

  “In a box.”

  “In a box?” Jenna didn’t normally repeat everything, but nothing was making any sense.

  “Yes, that’s what I said.”

  This time she kept her remark to herself. “And it was a human head? With eyes and lips and a nose and everything?” Or was it all white and plastic, like the one at the backroom of Botanica?

  “It didn’t have a face. It was just the skull. A smelly one. My husband said you were friends with a forensic anthropologist. I was wondering if he could tell me if it’s real. I didn’t know who else to turn to.” Kathy stood and pushed in her chair.

  This might be the break they needed to close the graveyard robberies. Her big chance to make the captain proud, and maybe her dad too. “I’d like to take a look.”

  “Are you sure? For a moment you looked at me like you thought I was a killer.”

  “For a brief moment only.” Jenna smiled. “Let me grab my purse.” The purse with the 22 inside. She still didn’t think Marlon was capable of murder, but someone could be framing him if they knew Creighton Jackson was his stepfather. Though why would Marlon agree to take the case when there was an obvious conflict of interest? Kathy might have a point.

  Whether the skull could be used as evidence, she wasn’t sure. However, they wouldn’t be breaking and entering since his sister had permission to be in his house. Shit. She could look at least.

  Since Kathy’s car was blocking the TPD’s loaner, Kathy drove. The trip took less than twenty minutes. They stopped in front of an average looking, one-story, cement block home. The lid to the mailbox was gone, and the lawn hadn’t been cut in a while.

  “This is Marlon’s place?” When she and Marlon had gone out, it was to dinner and a movie, and if they hooked up, they always ended up at her house. Now she knew why.

  “Not exactly the Ritz, is it?”

  The smell of decomp hit Jenna as soon as she stepped inside the front door. “How could Marlon live with this stench?”

  Kathy covered her nose. “It wasn’t this bad before. Maybe I shouldn’t have opened the lid to the box.”

  Jenna followed her down a low-lit hallway into a back room where a metal box sat on a table. Kathy motioned for Jenna to open it. In case this was a trap, Jenna faced Kathy and held her breath as she took a peek inside the box. Sure enough, a clean, white skull sat inside. Only it wasn’t bleached white like the skulls in Deidra’s shop. Small bits of tissue clung to the brow and to the hole at the back of the head. The tissue had caused the foul smell.

  “Looks like this one might have been shot in the head,” Jenna said.

  Kathy held a hand over her nose. “How can you tell?”

  “By the hole?” Okay, so that came out sarcastic, but anyone could see the cracks radiating from the half-inch opening. Part of Jenna’s training involved homicide and cause of death.

  “I would have thought if someone shot this person, the whole skull would have been blown away.”

  That made sense. “Depends on the caliber of the gun and how close the shooter was. Let me call TPD. They can sort out this mess.” Then she remembered her fear of Marlon finding out. “If your brother isn’t at the station, he won’t hear about you breaking in.”

  “I don’t care anymore. Marlon has to be stopped. Go ahead and call.”

  “What’s the address here?”

  After Kathy told her, Kathy motioned she wanted to wait outside. Jenna nodded, happy to be able to speak frankly to her fellow officers. She asked for Larry, figuring the head might belong to Creighton Jackson. Sam would be happy to have another part of the body if it did belong to the yacht man. If not, he’d have something else to work on.

  Jenna looked around for another metal box, thinking the hands and feet had to be nearby.

  “I’ll be right over,” Larry said. “And thanks for calling me. Stay there. It shouldn’t take me more than ten, fifteen minutes tops. Just to be safe, how about getting back in the car and locking the door. You never know if Marlon will come back.”

  “I plan to do just that.”

  Once she finished her conversation, she rushed outside, and the fresh air was a welcome relief from inside the house. The temperature had turned chilly and Marlon’s front door light had burned out providing little light in the driveway.

  Kathy was leaning against the hood of the car, smoking a cigarette. She tossed the butt on the ground and stomped it out, looking like she was taking out her anger on the cigarette. Marlon’s sister wrapped her arms around her shoulders. “It’s getting downright cold.” She stormed over to the driver’s side. “I’m going to wait inside the car for the police.”

  “I’ll join you.”

  Jenna grabbed hold of the passenger side handle, just as a strong arm grabbed her around her throat. Oh, God. Not again. Her instinct kicked in. She stomped on the attacker’s instep, and he let out a curse. Palming her fist, she drove her elbow into the man’s rib cage. Jenna twisted around to ID the man’s face, just as a sharp needle pricked her in the neck and her body froze.

  “What the...”

  Unable to finish the sentence, her knees teetered and she met the ground with a thud.

  27

  Sam finished his bland Christmas Eve meal, left a generous tip on the restaurant table and headed upstairs to his hotel room. While Phil had offered him a place to stay, interacting with his boss and his now live-in Gina would be too painful, especially since they were in love.

  He dropped onto the bed, shoes and all. Being alone on Christmas Eve sucked. He’d already called his mom earlier today, but she’d slurred her words so much he doubted she’d remember the call. Fortunately, she didn’t chastise him for not coming home for the holidays. Only now he wished he had made the arrangements. At least he’d have been with someone who cared about him.

  Though he rarely contacted his brother any more, before dinner he’d called Andy, whose situation in life was a lot worse than his own. At least Sam had a good job and wasn’t in jail on armed robbery charges like his baby brother. The conversation had been short, but he knew Andy appreciated the connection. His little brother was growing up and sounded as though he’d learned his lesson. His parole hearing was coming up in six months and Sam promised he’d be there.

  With the lab locked down tight for the next two days, he flipped on the TV. After ten minutes, he turned it off, the contents too sentimental for his tastes. Christmas meant family, the one thing he didn’t have.

  He’d tried to forget Jenna all week but he’d failed. Every petite blond he passed, every bouncy kid he saw and every sweet scent he smelled reminded him of her. The way her lips curled up when she smiled, the feel of her fingers as she ran her hands over his body, and how well she understood what he’d been through, all made his mind focus on her. Without the upbeat woman, his life had turned almost meaningless, but her words I’m a cop still rang in his head like the lyrics of a bad song.

  The fact she didn’t trust him enough to tell him the truth cut the deepest. He held honesty at the pinnacle of his beliefs.

  Or did he? Be honest.

  Hadn’t he lied in small ways?

  Fine. He hadn’t told the truth on his application for the HOPEFAL job when he omitted his service record, but that was because he wasn�
��t proud of how he sat at a desk while his friends fought overseas—or how about how every time he held up his badge, he prayed the viewer would think it was police issued and give him the information he sought.

  Aw, shit. At least she lied because of her job.

  Face it, Bonita, you’re no better than she is. Besides, you’re miserable without her. She claimed she loved him. The lonely half wanted to believe her, but his logical side said she didn’t. There was only one way to find out. Talk to her.

  Sam dug out his phone and dialed her number. He jumped off the bed and paced, his heart racing, waiting for her to answer. What would he say? Five rings, eight rings. Her answering machine clicked on. Damn. “Jenna, it’s me. Sam. Can you call me? Ah, bye.”

  He tossed the phone on the bed, disgusted he sounded so stern, unfeeling, and unconcerned. Hell. Maybe she didn’t want to see him again after he raced out of her life.

  If he went to her house, knowing Jenna, she’d let him in, and then hopefully forgive him. When he’d seen her in the stairwell at the lab, he’d been so shocked he threw up his shields and walked on by. If he’d held out his arms, he bet she would have come to him. So why hadn’t he?

  You’re an idiot. Go after her.

  Sam grabbed his keys. His mind spun with possibilities. He’d bring her flowers, perhaps buy her a card, and maybe even some chocolate. Yeah, that was it. Jenna loved chocolate. She’d appreciate the thought.

  Energized for the first time in a week, he ran down the stairs. The elevators took too long.

  Thank goodness Wal-Mart was open for the last minute shoppers. Armed with his forgiveness goodies, Sam headed to her house. The drive was the longest fifteen minutes in his life. He couldn’t wait to hold her, kiss her, and tell her how much he missed her.

  The moment he spotted the police issue car in the driveway, he barked out a laugh and pulled in behind her. After popping a piece of gum in his mouth to freshen his breath, he gathered the dozen roses, sappy card, and box of chocolates.