Chapter Five #2
Once the words were out, they couldn’t be taken back. He would wait on sharing the secret with his wife, Darrin resolved as he crossed the porch to the door. That would buy him time to make his own decision about the phone call.
Simone met him at the door with a cold Michelob from the refrigerator. “Listen to me, Darrin,” she said, handing him the beer. “I’ve made a new plan. Today I’m going into Abilene to buy some new clothes.”
He gave her a puzzled look. “That’s okay, I guess, as long as you don’t spend too much. What—?”
“I said listen to me, Darrin. One way or another, we’re going to get that house. Cancel your appointments for the rest of the week. We’re going to Las Vegas.”
He brightened. This was just the coincidence he’d been hoping for. “You know, I’ve been thinking the same thing,” he said. “We could use a break. You go shopping, and I’ll get our tickets.”
Sam waited until the end of the day to phone Nick, his boss at the Bureau in Abilene. He hadn’t looked forward to the call. He’d hoped to have good news for the man who needed it so desperately. But the day had only brought him more dead ends.
“I’ve been trying to learn more about Frank while I’m here,” he said. “Nobody seemed to like him much. Cheyenne McKenna called him a control freak. I spoke with one of the judges who mentioned that Frank had a thing for young women.”
“No surprise there,” Nick said. “We already knew that.”
“A jealous boyfriend could’ve killed him,” Sam said. “But on the ranch in the middle of the night? That doesn’t make sense. I’m guessing the killer was someone he already knew and knew well.”
“Which brings us back to Roper.” Nick sounded weary. “Or if not Roper, maybe you should take a closer look at Frank’s daughter, Jasmine. She was right there, and we’ve only skimmed the surface of her relationship with her father. The fact that she found the body doesn’t clear her of the crime.”
“True.” Sam felt a stab of dread. Not Jasmine. She was so gentle. And she’d adored her father. Sam had never heard her say a word against him.
“What about that syringe the boys found in the creek?” Sam said, changing the subject. “Is the lab still working on it?”
“They were. But it’s been put aside for now.
There’s nothing new to report. As you know, we’re pretty sure it’s the murder weapon.
But there are no prints or DNA that could tie it to any of your suspects.
If any evidence was there, it was probably washed away in the water.
Oh—and we checked Frank’s phone records.
The last call he took on his cell phone was from a burner.
That call could’ve lured him to the stable. But, of course, we can’t trace it.”
“Well, keep me posted.” Sam had already known what the answer to his question would be. Otherwise, he would have heard.
“How about you, Nick?” he asked. Sam’s old friend was battling cancer. He had chosen to hold off treatment until Sam could get back to the Bureau and replace him. Sam knew that every delay worsened the odds against his survival.
“My first chemo session is set for Monday,” Nick said. “I won’t be much good after that, so I’ll need somebody in charge here.”
“I’ll be there, Nick. You can count on me. But it’s a shame you never took down Louis Divino. After all those years of trying to nail him, you deserved that victory.”
“Oh—I didn’t tell you,” Nick said. “Divino’s gone. Some boater on Lake Travis hauled his body up with the anchor. He was shot through the head with a .38, at close range, back to front. Probably a gang killing. I’m glad somebody got the sonofabitch, even if it wasn’t me.”
“Do you know who’s taken over in his place?”
“I haven’t a clue. I guess that’ll be your problem. Good luck with it.”
“Take care of yourself, Nick. I’ll be there for you, I promise.” As he spoke, Sam felt a lump rise in his throat. If ever he needed to keep his word, it was now—to the man who’d been his friend and mentor since the early days of his career with the FBI.
After ending the call, Sam crossed the floor to the north-facing window of his hotel room. Opening the curtains, he stood watching the sky darken into night. The lights of Las Vegas spread below him like a vast, illuminated Persian carpet. So many lights. So many people. So many heartaches.
As his frustration overflowed, Sam mouthed a curse. Why couldn’t he just wrap up this case, go back to Abilene, and take up where he’d left off with Jasmine? All he needed to do was place Roper under arrest for murder. Then he would be free to get on with his life.
So why didn’t he—when every shred of evidence pointed to Roper’s guilt?
Sam’s thoughts were scattered by the jangle of his phone, which he’d left on the coffee table. Striding back across the room, he picked it up and took the call.
“Sam?” The husky, feminine voice stopped his heart.
The last time they’d spoken—a furtive call on a burner phone—she’d been in Austin, taking care of her terminally ill mother.
She’d sounded nervous, he recalled, but she’d assured him that everything was all right.
It was only later that he’d begun to worry about Louis Divino and his connection to Madeleine.
When he’d called again later to warn Jasmine, she hadn’t answered.
He’d left a voicemail on the burner phone and waited for a reply that never came.
He’d worried about her, but he’d known better than to try again.
Now, Divino was dead, and here she was. Stunned, he found his voice. “Are you all right, Jasmine?”
“I’m fine.” He heard a muted sob. “Oh, Sam, I’ve missed you so much!”
“Where are you?”
“I’m here, in Las Vegas. I just got in from the airport. I’m staying at the Excalibur. I can’t wait to see you.”
Could this be real—or had his fantasies gone to his head? “How did you know where to find me?” he asked.
“Mariah called me as a favor to Mother. You know how much Mother likes you and wants us to get together. She keeps talking about her future blue-eyed grandchildren.”
“Your mother?” Sam felt the vague sensation of having fallen down a rabbit hole. “But isn’t she sick? Isn’t she …”
“Dying?” Jasmine laughed. “Oh, Sam, you know Mother. She didn’t really have a brain tumor.
It was all an act—a way to get some things she wanted.
She’s fine. In fact, she ordered me to leave her.
I’ve been staying in LA with a friend from my old Hollywood days, so it was just a quick flight to Vegas.
I can’t wait to be with you. Can you come to me tonight? ”
Yearnings too long denied surged through Sam’s body. He stifled a groan. “Jasmine, I’m still on this case.”
She was silent for a moment—not a good sign. “We’ve behaved ourselves for weeks, Sam. Don’t we deserve a break?”
When Sam didn’t reply, she plunged ahead. “We can be careful. I’m being careful now. I’m calling you on the room phone, not my cell. And I’m not even staying in your hotel. But the Excalibur is close—just a short cab ride or a nice walk.”
“Jasmine, I can’t—”
“Why not? Nobody knows us here. Who’s going to find out?”
“Jasmine, listen—”
“Blast it, Sam, I’m not going to beg you,” she snapped. “If you care more about your silly rules than you do about me, that’s your loss. In case you change your mind, I’m in room 1620. But I won’t call you again. I have my pride.”
The call ended with a click. Sam checked the impulse to hurl his phone against the wall.
He loved Jasmine to the depths of his wretched soul.
He loved her with a hunger so intense that it kept him awake at night.
He wanted to spend his life making love to her, building a home, and filling it with their children.
But why, in the name of heaven, did she have to show up here now?
Sam laid the phone on the coffee table and sank onto the sofa with his head in his hands. He reminded himself of the vow he’d taken as an FBI agent. And he thought about Nick, putting his cancer treatment on hold to buy him more time for this case.
“Maybe you should take a closer look at Frank’s daughter, Jasmine. She was right there, and we’ve only skimmed the surface of her relationship with her father. The fact that she found the body doesn’t clear her of the crime.”
Nick’s chilling words rose in his memory.
Much as he might want to ignore them, Sam knew he had to give them the weight they deserved.
He’d dismissed Jasmine as a suspect because she’d insisted she loved her father—and he’d taken her at her word because she was sweet and sincere and passionate.
Then, when he’d fallen in love with her, he’d stopped asking questions.
Now duty compelled him to raise those questions again, if only to himself. Meanwhile, if it became known, a romantic relationship between the investigating agent and one of the suspects could blow a court case wide open.
Still fighting the urge to get up and go to her, Sam picked up the remote, switched on the TV, and clicked through the channels. Settling on a mindless zombie-invasion movie, he forced himself to watch it to the end. Then, still battling temptation, he showered and went to bed.
Wide awake, he lay in the darkness, listening to the whir and bump of the elevator down the hall and the faint sound of voices passing his door.
Jasmine’s image tortured his thoughts—her laughing face, with its petal-like, kissable lips, her small but perfect breasts, made to fit the hollows of his hands, her golden legs parting to draw him into her silken warmth.