Biloxi Blue (The Biloxi Series Book 2) Page 3

  Because Jack is here, and you wouldn’t want to disappoint him. Even if he’s your boss now, you’ll get to see him. Maybe work with him some.

  True. She didn’t want to disappoint Jack, and the thought of not seeing him at work was the least appealing part of leaving. But he wasn’t here to help her. Maybe it would have been different – better – if he was. She shouldn’t have to deal with being shunned or shamed by her co-workers. This was a difficult enough job when you knew the people you work with were trustworthy. She was already putting her life on the line every day. If she couldn’t trust her ‘brothers in blue,’ where did that leave her?

  “Nope.” The other woman didn’t even bother to look up. Kate hesitated. She had nothing more than a victim and a security guard who had gone out with the victim. Oh. And there was the guard who had been allowed to leave before she could talk to him. Really, she had nothing.

  I’m so done with this.

  Kate stomped down the stairs and slammed through the front door. The mountain-sized cop standing guard at the door looked over as she stalked outside, ignoring the door when it bounced against the limits of the hinges and slung shut with a thud. She passed him without speaking. She wanted to talk with some of the employees gathered outside the perimeter established by the crime scene tape. Maybe they would be more helpful than her so-called co-workers.

  Why did I even come back to work?

  Kate had imagined a thousand different ways she and Jack could spend the rest of their lives together, but not one of them included her working in homicide. They also hadn’t included Jack being chief, but he was.

  Suck it up, Buttercup. You’re here and you have a job to do, so stop with the whining.

  What was that her grandmother used to say? ‘Everything stays the same until you look back and then everything is completely different.’ Kate felt like that. Nothing had changed, and yet it had. All she wanted was a future with Jack that didn’t include secrets and lies. If she could have a job she loved at the same time, that would be as close to perfect as she could hope for, but already there were cracks in her perfect little picture. They started forming even before Jack asked her to marry him.

  They started when Jack wanted to let the man that killed Dale Abernathy go free because he felt the killer did the world a favor. Kate had killed John Juarez, the man responsible for Abernathy’s death, during the shootout when she was hit. Her and Jack still had not talked about it. Juarez was equally as bad as Abernathy. Maybe worse. He tried to kill Jack and would have succeeded if Kate hadn’t shot him first.

  Jack’s rant about during that investigation stayed with Kate and many times over the last three months she’d wanted to question Jack. To see if he understood the flaw in his thinking. She didn’t. It remained wedged between, creating an ever-widening gulf that just seemed to keep spawning new cracks. Like the realization that although it was the first time Jack had voiced his disbelief in the justice system, it wasn’t the first time he’d demonstrated it.

  Jack had once beaten a man into unconsciousness. Tim Burris, his sister’s boyfriend, was having a relationship with her young daughter, Lisa. When Jack confronted him, he lost control and beat Burris so badly he had to be hospitalized.

  Kate tried to ignore the connection. She tried to pretend the distance between them since he became chief didn’t bother her. She even tried to act as if his refusal to discuss what was happening at work was normal. It wasn’t. And trying to ignore it had not made it go away.

  FOUR

  Jenna sat in her car and stared at the gray, block building. Nervous but exhilarated, a rush of adrenaline washed over her. This changed things. She felt invincible. Untouchable. The one person who knew what she’d done was gone. It had been so easy. A simple matter of taking out the trash.

  After several minutes, she climbed from her car and approached the knot of people gathered in front of the shipping company’s office buildings. She spotted Greg Harrington, her immediate supervisor, standing just inside the crime scene tape talking to an average looking female cop.

  The woman wore jeans and a polo shirt but Jenna could tell she was a cop by the way she held herself. Otherwise, she was remarkably average. Jenna thought most women, when compared to herself, were either average, or just downright ugly.

  After a few minutes the cop moved on to speak with Robert Ingram, who owned Ingram Logistics. Jenna edged up to the crime scene tape near where Greg still stood.

  “Greg, what's going on?” He wasn't facing her, but Jenna knew he would hear. Greg always heard her.

  He spun to face her. “Jen. What are… Oh my. You don't know, do you?”

  Jenna pasted her best confused look on. “Don't know what, Greg? What's going on?”

  “Well…” He pulled at his tie. “I don't know how to tell you this, but.” Deep breath. “Beth Martin is dead.”

  Jenna hated the way his voice cracked. Beth was a nobody. Why should he even care?

  “Oh.” Her hand flew to cover the slack-jawed “O” she formed with her mouth. “Oh my God.” She summoned tears, blinking until they spilled onto her cheeks, making trails in her makeup.

  “She was murdered.” Greg’s voice was almost inaudible, as if speaking in a normal voice might cause someone else to fall dead at their feet.

  She gasped again. More tears. She had practiced this in her own bathroom mirror last night after her husband, Michael, had gone to bed.

  “Do they have any idea who did it? Or why?” She sniffled.

  “Nothing yet.” Greg pulled at his tie again and then seemed to realize what he was doing and shoved his hands deep into his pockets. “I thought you were in Aruba?”

  Jenna made a show of trying to collect herself. “Michael got sick. Nothing serious.”

  Greg’s eyes widened.

  “Probably just something he ate. He likes to eat at local restaurants. Says it’s more authentic. I’ve warned him, but he doesn’t listen.”

  “Who's that?” She motioned toward the woman Greg had been talking to. “I don’t recognize her.”

  “A detective.” Greg glanced from Kate to Jenna and back. “She's the lead for the investigation, I guess.” He watched the detective closely, his gaze traveling slowly from her head to her feet and back up again.

  Jenna tamped down irritation. She cleared her throat to remind him she was standing right there, but Greg's attention remained focused on the female detective. Frustrated, Jenna turned to find someone else who might have information, someone who might not be so distracted they wouldn't share.

  It didn’t take her long. Nancy, from the mailroom, was a wellspring of company gossip. She called it information, and everyone knew that she collected gossip, yet they all still talked to her. Stupid people.

  People gossip. It's what they do. Jenna learned long ago that if you listen, everyone has a story to share, especially if it's even slightly scandalous and involves other people. If you pay attention, there are always bits of truth mixed in with the gossip. She’d also learned, however, that the best way to stay under everyone’s radar was to not give them anything to talk about. Jenna rarely engaged with people. It was better to stand apart. Untouchable. She knew people still talked about her, but also knew they were lies and conjecture. Nothing of concern.

  After listening to Nancy repeat herself twice, changing the details of her story about what she thought was happening each time she told the story, Jenna spotted another department head and walked away, leaving Nancy mid-sentence.

  “Jenna!”

  Jenna turned back to find Greg completely focused on her. The hair prickled on the back of her neck. A moment ago she had wanted his attention. Now, she wished he would go back to ogling the detective.

  “Did you need something?” Mask of grief in place. Voice cool.

  “So, Michael is okay, right?” Greg was searching for a reason to keep her attention, but Jenna was prepared.

  “I told you, he’s fine. All that island food just got to him.” Jenna s
hifted her expression trying to portray exasperation, worry, and nonchalance all at once. From the empathy etched on Greg's face, she assumed she was succeeding.

  “Wow. To have your vacation cut short and then come back to this? That sucks.” Greg's attention wandered again and Jenna took the opportunity to slip through the crowd of people and away from Greg. She wasn’t interested in standing around watching his attention ping-pong from one place to another.

  She caught sight of the detective, standing near one area of the crime scene tape to the left of the main entrance. She was still talking to Ingram. From the look on his face, he didn't like what he was hearing.

  Jenna edged closer, trying to make it appear that her interest was elsewhere.

  “Mr. Ingram, I'm going to need a list of all your employees.” The detective jotted notes in a small, black, leather notebook.

  “Do you think someone that works for me could've done this?” Ingram ran a thick hand through his thinning gray hair and pushed rimless glasses back onto the bridge of his nose.

  “I hope not, Mr. Ingram. But the sooner you can get me the list, the sooner we can rule that out.” The detective flipped her notebook shut and started to move away.

  Jenna moved into the middle of a knot of people gathered in front of Ingram and the detective. “This is awful,” she said to no one in particular, but loud enough for Ingram to hear. She knew he would recognize her voice.

  “Oh. Jenna.” Surprise caused his eyebrows to shoot up. Jenna thought it made him look like an orangutan. She bit the inside of her lip. Hard. Now was not the time to start laughing.

  The detective turned to see who Mr. Ingram was speaking to. She searched through the crowd until she focused on Jenna.

  Jenna didn't try to hide. She pushed her way past co-workers and strangers, struggling to keep her mask of grief in place.

  “Robert, I just heard. I'm devastated. Beth was such a thoroughly likable person. I just don't know what to think.” More tears. She should have been an actress.

  “Me either, Jenna.” Ingram lifted the crime scene tape and Jenna ducked under, and hugged the man tightly.

  When they pulled apart, the detective cleared her throat.

  Ingram stuttered for a second as if collecting his thoughts.

  “Detective Kate Giveans.” He placed a protective arm around Jenna. “This is Jenna Langley. She’s the department manager over Beth’s department, and one of my best employees.”

  FIVE

  Kate sized up the woman standing under Robert Ingram’s arm. Even before the introductions, Kate had pegged Jenna as management. Her attitude and her comfort with Ingram, the owner of the company wasn’t the kind of behavior an hourly employee would exhibit. The comradery between members of upper management was different. More relaxed. Kate was still deciphering how deep the relationship went between Ingram and his ‘best employee.’

  Ingram obviously respected Jenna. Calling her his best employee could mean more. Or it could mean he was the consummate politician. Kate made a mental note to ask Ingram about Jenna when they had more privacy. She was certain she would talk to him again. Probably more than once.

  “Ms. Langley. How well did you know Beth Martin?” Kate flipped open her notebook again and held her pen at the ready.

  Jenna shifted from one foot to another, but made eye contact as she answered. “She was a good employee. Never had any trouble from her. She was always at work on time. And she did a great job.”

  “Did you know her personally?” Kate made the question more specific, noting Jenna hadn’t directly answered her first question.

  “No. I don't associate with non-management employees outside of the office.” Jenna huffed. “It gets…” She looked skyward, as if trying to choose the right word from among the clouds. “Complicated.”

  Or perhaps it just doesn't fit with your inflated ego?

  Kate bristled at Jenna's attitude.

  “One more question, Ms. Langley. Where were you last night?”

  “My husband and I were just getting back from vacation. We came home early because he got sick.” Jenna straightened, and squared her shoulders. “What are you getting at, detective?”

  “Relax.” Kate couldn't didn’t hide her irritation.

  ~*~*~

  Kate didn’t have the fortitude or the inclination to coddle this woman right now. In the few hours she’d been back on the job, it was one irritation after another. “It's our job to account for everyone that's associated with the victim.”

  Jenna huffed again. “If you want to waste your time, go right ahead.”

  Kate walked back to the perimeter tape and turned to survey the crowd. She let her gaze rove over the crowd from one person to another. Employees, bystanders, people just being nosey about what was happening were all gathered together. Some talked and laughed. Others cried. It was a scene that she had seen so many times.

  She tried to shake off the frustration that had built up over the course of the morning.

  Why am I here?

  She could tell herself that she was here for Jack, but the truth was, Jack was so separated from her right now, he probably wouldn’t care if she didn’t come back to work. No. She was here because she had something to prove. Looking over all these people, some touched by death, others curious or afraid of it, she suddenly couldn’t even remember what she was trying to prove anymore. She wasn’t even sure she wanted to remember.

  Her gaze stopped wandering when it fell upon a vaguely familiar form. She recognized the set of a man’s shoulders. Something tingled through her brain. The man’s shoulders seemed familiar, but she couldn’t grasp why. His bald head sported several tattoos she couldn’t make out from this distance. She watched as he stood in a group, but didn’t seem to be speaking to anyone, or even paying attention to those around him. He was scanning the crowd, much the same way she had just been doing.

  Curiosity nudged Kate forward. She kept her eyes locked on him as she ducked under the perimeter tape. Who was that? An employee? A bystander? His attention to the crowd was intense. He was looking for someone.

  He turned toward her, and Kate caught a glimpse of his profile. The face was familiar, but not. A gauzy image floated through her mind, but when she tried to grasp it, it disappeared.

  The man had turned away from her, but she continued toward him. The phone on her belt vibrated, alerting her to an incoming call. She took a few more steps. She wanted to get closer. Get a better look. She felt like she knew who that was. The phone vibrated again and she pulled it from her belt and glanced at the screen. Jack. She thumbed the call to voicemail and looked back up.

  The man was gone. Kate pushed forward, searching the crowd with no luck. Whoever she had seen had vanished.

  SIX

  Ryan watched the people in the crowd, trying to keep his head down. He wished he’d thought to grab a baseball cap. The tattoos on his scalp were distinctive enough that people stared at him. He glanced around, trying to look like any other crime scene tourist drawn by the flashing lights and crime scene tape.

  Snippets of conversation drifted to him on the easy southern breeze.

  “She was so quiet. Who could have done this?”

  “Why was she in the office alone?”

  “I bet she was stealing from the company.”

  “Do you think someone here did this?”

  “I can’t work in an office with people I don’t trust.”

  People all reacted differently to death. Some feared it. Some blamed everyone. Some blamed the victim. What he needed to know was why? Why had someone killed Beth Martin?

  Had someone figured out she was tracking shipments for Mamoncetes? Was it a rival? Someone she worked with? Or was there some other piece of vital information he was missing?

  He had worked with Beth before. She was a quiet, competent girl. Intelligent in a way that most of the people involved in the Mamoncetes were not. She had the brains to get out. Instead, she stayed tethered to them, her life at risk e
very single day. Why?

  A movement at the far edge of the crowd caught his attention. He glanced up, eyes hidden behind dark aviators. A woman walked toward the crowd from the building. Her stride was familiar. He could tell she was angry. In a past life he knew someone that walked that way when she was angry. It had been so long ago now, it seemed like a dream. Or something he’d seen in a movie.

  His brain buzzed as he watched her stop at the perimeter tape and survey the crowd. It was her. He blinked. How?

  Her hair was longer, and she was thinner, but he was certain. It was Kate. He closed his eyes and shook his head. Exhaustion must be setting in. That’s the only time he saw her like this. When he was so tired he didn’t know how he managed to move forward. And he had been awake for almost 36 hours, orchestrating a large transaction. He had planned to sleep for a few hours after everything was complete, but then one of his men called him about chatter on the scanner. Sleep wasn’t an option.

  He had called Beth on the disposable phone he’d given her. No answer. Texted her with the same result. He was already planning to come to Biloxi. Rumor had it that the man who killed John Juarez would be back in town, and Ryan needed to handle that. Then Beth was murdered, and he pushed his trip forward.

  When Ryan opened his eyes again, she was still there. Her gaze scanned toward him but he turned away and inched toward a small group of people nearby. They talked about Beth and internal politics and the hierarchy at Ingram Logistics. He didn’t pay any attention.

  Kate looked good. He wasn’t sure what he expected after all these years, but it certainly wasn’t to run into her at a crime scene. Guilt gnawed at him. He’d played a reunion scene between them through his head a thousand times. It never ended well. Still, the guilt tortured him. Even when Annalise was killed. He thought about Kate daily. Wondered how she managed during the aftermath of the shooting. Had she even returned to the job?

  He’d been tempted to keep an eye on her from afar, but it seemed too risky. Interest in anything could be a weapon to be used against him, and his life was dangerous enough without the threat of someone he loved hanging over his head. He’d forgotten that when it came to Annalise and she had paid dearly for his mistake.