Wonders Never Cease (Harlequin Super Romance) Page 24

  “About Clarice and Mr. Davenport?”

  Ben nodded.

  “I heard Will tell you.” She gave a big sigh and looked at the ceiling. “Clarice is a piece of work. But she hired me when I had no experience and my only claim to publishing was a couple of articles since college.” She frowned. “I can’t say that the timing of her relationship with Peter didn’t hurt, but given some perspective, I’m done agonizing over it. Frankly, I’m glad she and Peter are together. They deserve each other.”

  Ben walked to the stool and kissed her. “You’ve really put this behind you, haven’t you?”

  She linked her hands behind his waist and cuddled her cheek against his belly. “It’s so much easier to move forward when you’re not carrying a grudge,” she said, her voice muffled by his shirt. “That one was really weighing me down.”

  Ben flashed to his sister’s charge that his antipathy toward their parents was ruining his life, interfering with his ability to commit to long term relationships.

  Jill apparently interpreted his reaction because she looked up at him and said, “Hey, I’m talking about me. You have to deal with the past in your own way. If I can help, I’d like to, but I’m not going to beat you over the head with it. Okay?”

  Ben stifled his inner disquiet. He had a job to do today. “Okay.”

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  “I DIDN’T DO IT, man. How many times do I gotta tell you that?”

  Jill sat by herself in Ben’s office and listened to the tape recording of Bobby’s interrogation. Bobby’s attorney had called to say he’d be late.

  “Why won’t nobody believe me?” the voice on the tape whined.

  Jill thought the desperation seemed real—a sincerity that would have caught her attention even if she didn’t have a feeling something about the case wasn’t right. Could Bobby have been the one to attack her? Her intuition told her no.

  Of course, unsubstantiated second sight counted for squat when the evidence appeared so damning.

  She and Ben had arrived at the station thirty minutes earlier. After extracting a promise to keep everything confidential, Amos had tucked her into Ben’s office with tapes and the thick file the police had accumulated on the case, then he’d taken Ben aside for a private confab.

  At first glance, Jill had to agree with Amos—it looked pretty certain the police had their man.

  “The only thing missing is the gun,” Amos had told her.

  “What about prints?” Jill had asked.

  Ben and Amos had exchanged a look. “Gloves. We found a pair in a Dumpster near where Bobby hangs out. There was a stocking cap, too. Forensics has a hair and fiber match from both Bobby and the carpet in your place.”

  Jill felt nothing but sympathy for Amos who looked tired and stressed. She’d read a couple of Sentinel editorials zinging the police for not solving this case faster. Will was being his usual astringent self. And Ben had mentioned that the mayor was pressuring Amos to sweep it under the carpet so the violent nature of the attack wouldn’t adversely affect sales of the new Land Barons project.

  And since Dorry’s files had disappeared along with her, it looked as though the development would go ahead.

  Czar, who’d chosen to stay at Jill’s side, made a rumbling sound in his throat. She put out a hand to pet him. “What is it, boy?”

  By concentrating, she heard two men speaking just outside the door. Ben and Amos.

  “What’s going to happen to him?” Ben asked, his voice low and serious.

  “He might plead down to aggravated assault,” Amos answered. “It’s mostly circumstantial evidence, but the blood and tissue on the gloves is nothing to sneeze at, and the preliminary match on the shoe print looks solid, too.”

  “What shoe print?”

  “We took a cast from the rose bed right below her garage window. Kind of odd that we even got a print. This time of year the soil’s harder than rock, but the ground had been recently turned up.

  “And the print matches the boots Bobby had on when we picked him up. Heavy, metal-toed jobs. He said they were part of the charity he’d gotten after Jill’s story ran in the paper. Ironic, huh?”

  Ben made a sound that hardly resembled a laugh. “I just remembered something Jill said on our date. She’d been working in her garden earlier that day.”

  Amos sighed. “Then that pretty much places Bobby in the ballpark timewise, wouldn’t you say? Let’s go see if any of this stuff has jogged Jill’s memory.” There was a slight pause then Amos said, “By the way, I called her house this morning to confirm this meeting, and there wasn’t an answer. Can you tell me why?”

  Jill looked at Czar and made a face.

  “She was with me,” Ben said solemnly.

  Amos coughed. “Police protection?”

  “Something like that,” Ben muttered.

  The door opened with a bang. Ben walked to her. “Are you okay? Not too tired? We could postpone—”

  Jill closed the file and turned to face the men. “Nope. I feel fit as a fiddle and ready to play.” She gave Ben a private wink then turned to Amos. “Thank you for giving me access to this. I wish I could say it helped my memory, but all I get is shadowy images—nothing that makes sense.”

  Amos consulted his watch. “Don’t worry about it. We just want you to get well.”

  Jill read the sincerity in his tone and appreciated it. She didn’t even mind the look of speculation she caught on his face when Ben put out a hand to help her rise.

  “Well gentlemen,” she said. “Shall we get this show on the road?”

  “THEN THIS GUY in a beat-up old car cruised past ’n tossed this bag at the Dumpster. It missed the mark by a mile, but the guy didn’t get out or nothing. He just kept on driving, so I checked it out.”

  Ben decided he hated the sound of Bobby Goetz’s voice. He also hated the way Jill seemed to hang on every word. Why did she have to be so kindhearted? Her compassion made him feel like a bully just because he wanted this case solved and Jill safe from threat.

  “What was in the bag?” Jill asked.

  Bobby looked at his attorney for permission to answer. The Public Defender’s shrug suggested he had a dozen things he’d rather be doing. “Pair of gloves, a stocking cap and a cheap-ass windbreaker. Didn’t fit so I gave it to Banjo.”

  “Gave?” Ben asked dryly. Inwardly, he cringed. His cynical tone reminded him of Will Ogden.

  Bobby flashed him a dirty look. “I traded him for some weed. Big deal. I threw the hat away. It itched, but I kept the gloves. They were leather.”

  “Tell us about the car again,” Amos said. “Maybe Jill will recognize it from the description.”

  “Black or brown…maybe dark blue. I think it was a Chevy. Or a Ford. Something American, for sure. Late seventies, maybe.”

  Ben couldn’t prevent a skeptical snort. Jill gave him an understanding smile. “Can you tell me more about the driver, Bobby?”

  The man sighed heavily. The orange jumpsuit he wore made his skin tone sallow. His hands shook as he sipped from the paper cup of coffee Amos had given him. “It was dark. There aren’t many streetlights in that part of town.”

  Ben’s patience was shot. He rose. “So you never went to Jill’s house? You’re a complete innocent in this matter?”

  “That’s right,” Bobby said, sitting a little straighter. “I wouldn’t hurt Jill. She was good to me when nobody else was. I like her.”

  “But that didn’t stop you from calling her, harassing her at work. And you followed her, waiting outside the Sentinel, then you got in her face.” Before Bobby could respond, Ben added, “Don’t bother denying it, we have a witness.”

  “Once,” Bobby cried. “I was sick of all the runaround. I know when somebody’s giving me the brush-off. I just wanted to talk to her.”

  “Is that why you went to her house?”

  “I didn’t…” Bobby whined, leaning toward his lawyer like a rat scurrying to higher ground.

  “The scratches,
Bobby, remember. You told me you bumped into a rose plant. Jill has roses right outside her garage window.”

  “I went to apologize.” Bobby’s head dropped in defeat.

  Ben’s chuckle made Jill look at him sharply.

  “Apologize for what?” she asked.

  Bobby reached out, as if to touch her arm, but Ben pinned his hand to the table. The man’s long, unshaven face—coarsened and aged by dissipation—turned dark red. “For botherin’ you.” He made a pleading motion. “You gotta believe me.”

  Jill motioned for Czar to come to her. Ben frowned. Czar would normally never respond to someone else’s hand signals—especially a funky wave like that. His stomach tensed. His worst fears about his partner’s fitness for duty were being confirmed.

  “Bobby,” Jill said, “I could see where someone might panic and strike out in an effort to get out of my house without being caught, but how could you bring yourself to fire a gun at Czar? You almost killed this beautiful animal.”

  Bobby threw up his hands and cried out passionately, “I wouldn’t hurt no dog, Jill. I like dogs. You gotta believe me. I didn’t hit you. And I ain’t never fired no gun. I didn’t do it.”

  Ben stood back, arms crossed, and watched as Jill silently communicated with Czar. Her head waggled silently, and Czar rose and walked around the table to face the prisoner. Bobby shrank back in his chair.

  Czar stepped closer. Ben moved in to grab the dog’s collar if the need arose. Czar sniffed Bobby’s leg, working his way upward.

  “Give him your hand, Bobby,” Jill demanded.

  Bobby gulped visibly. “Do I have to?”

  His question was directed toward his lawyer, but Amos answered. “If you want anyone to believe you didn’t do it.”

  Bobby’s hand shook, but he slowly lowered it. Czar responded by sniffing it thoroughly. Then, to Ben’s surprise, Czar licked it.

  Ben looked at Jill who smiled serenely. “I may have amnesia, but Czar doesn’t. I’m just surprised you didn’t think of this sooner.”

  Ben would have answered but he couldn’t. Jill didn’t know about his doubts, his fears. Trust was elemental in the field, and Ben didn’t trust Czar’s judgment anymore. How could he? Czar had changed; he wasn’t the same dog he’d been before the shooting.

  JILL WOKE UP from her nap with a smile. She’d dreamt of Ben and their night together. She’d never known a more generous, considerate lover. In fact, until his sister’s call this morning, Jill would have sworn that her future with Ben was a sure thing.

  But that single display of rigidity—the threat to cut all ties with Joely if she mentioned his feelings for Jill to his parents—had reminded her too much of Peter. When Peter made up his mind, nothing—at least nothing Jill could say or do—would make him change it.

  Stretching, Jill rose and walked to her bathroom to freshen up. She did it quickly—not ready to confront the questions she’d see in her eyes. Do Ben and I have a future together or not? After filling up a water glass, she wandered down the hall to her office.

  She checked her voice messages. One from Amos, three from her parents, five from Penny and two hang-ups.

  She called Penny first. Chatting with her friend served as a reality check. Teething issues, local gossip and gentle probing into Jill’s feelings about Ben—nothing Jill couldn’t handle. Since she wasn’t sure the same would apply to her mother, Jill put that call off.

  Instead, she turned on her computer. As she waited for the virus check to run, Jill rocked back in her chair, her gaze absently drifting over the books in her shelves.

  Wasn’t it funny how Dorry hid that itinerary in her book? Just the way I do.

  The simple thought hit her like a slap on the cheek. My disk.

  She jumped to her feet and pawed through her shelves until one title sparked a memory. She yanked out the fat, hardbound copy.

  “Well, hello, Margaret Mitchell. What have you got for me?”

  She gave the book a shake and out dropped a white plastic disk.

  “Bingo.”

  An hour later, she picked up the phone to call Ben. She’d already copied the pertinent files and planned to forward them to him. The dispatcher informed her that Ben was away from his desk but she’d patch Jill through to Amos.

  “Amos,” Jill said after a few polite formalities, “cutting to the chase, I called to tell Ben that I found my files—the ones that Dad thought were missing from my computer. I’d copied all my notes about the Land Barons story on to a disk and hid it in a novel.”

  “Really? So someone did clean out your computer?”

  A shiver passed down her spine. “Either that or it was some kind of virus. All I know is that I found all sorts of background stuff on the company and some collateral stories about places where Land Barons had gone in promising the moon then skulked off just ahead of the posse.”

  “Sounds incriminating. Ben will be back from the vet’s office in an hour or so, I’ll send him over to pick up whatever you want to give us.”

  “Great, but in the meantime, could I e-mail you this stuff? I probably sound paranoid, but I’d feel better if someone else had a copy.”

  “A little paranoia never hurt anyone, Jill. Send it over.”

  “Thanks. I’ll go online as soon as we hang up. I only have one line in the house and I keep forgetting to recharge my cell phone.”

  Amos started to hang up, but Jill stopped him. “Amos, was something wrong with Czar? Is that why Ben took him to the doctor?”

  In the pause that followed, Jill’s stomach turned inside out. “The dog seems fine to me, but Ben’s concerned that there might be a problem.” Amos’s voice faltered. “Maybe even brain damage. Ben says Czar hasn’t been himself since all this happened.”

  “Who has?” Jill cried. “That doesn’t mean we’re crazy.”

  Amos chuckled. “I agree. Look, Jill, without trying to sound nosy, I got the impression you and Ben have something going. If that’s true, then you know how much Czar means to Ben. Not only does the department have a lot riding on the both of them, Czar is Ben’s best friend.”

  “I know, Amos. But Czar’s fine. I can feel it. He just needs a little time to rebuild his strength.”

  Amos didn’t reply right away. “What makes you so sure?”

  Jill felt her cheeks heat up. “I think Czar and I share some special bond. I…I can’t explain it, but I know Czar is going to be fine.”

  Amos sighed. “I hope you’re right. Those two depend on each other in ways the average person couldn’t comprehend.”

  Jill blinked away the tears that suddenly filled her eyes.

  “WELL, PAL, I GUESS I owe you an apology,” Ben told Czar as they cruised down Main Street.

  The vet had acted as if Ben was the one with the problem. “You can’t expect Czar to bounce back overnight,” the man had said. His tone had shamed Ben for bringing up his concerns. “Give him time. And rest. Czar needs to be home recuperating. I told you that before.”

  “I guess we should head home for a quick nap.” Or to Jill’s. Where he surely wouldn’t sleep.

  His partner’s sagging demeanor sealed the decision. Since Czar was an extension of himself in many ways, Ben knew that Czar would rest more completely if Ben slept, too.

  Three quick turns and he pulled into his driveway—where he found a red minivan parked.

  He muttered a low epithet. “We’ve got company, boy,” he told Czar. “Joely.”

  Half an hour later—small talk and children updates out of the way, his sister launched into the true purpose behind her impromptu visit. “Ben, we have to talk about Mom and Dad.”

  He shook his head vehemently. “Jo, I’ve got enough on my mind.”

  “I know, and I wouldn’t bring this up if it weren’t important. I told you about Dad’s tests, right?”

  Ben reached for Czar, who hadn’t left his side since they’d entered the house. “You said he was having some tests. Liver, I presume. Cirrhosis is a common side effect of b
eing a drunk.” He held up his hand to prevent her reply. “Excuse me, a reformed drunk. You can repent all you want, but the damage has been done.”

  Joely looked upset. “You’re so hard on him. When I see you with Czar and my children, you’re gentle, caring, but if I even mention Dad you go belligerent.”

  Ben ran his hand through his hair. “I can’t help it, Joely. I only have bad memories of growing up. I don’t want to care about him.”

  Joely reached for his hand. “That’s just it, Ben. You do care. You can’t help yourself. And it’s tearing you up inside. Don’t you see that? It’s like trying to deny your feelings for Jill. I hear it every time you mention her name. You love her, Ben.”

  He tried to scowl, but smiled instead—Jill did that to him. “You’re right. She’s incredible, but thanks to my background, I know I’d make a lousy husband. She deserves better than me.”

  “Love isn’t logical, Ben. I can’t speak for someone I’ve never met, but I do know that you love Dad and he loves you.”

  He jerked his hand away.

  “He’s your father, Ben. He’s old and sick, and you have to deal with the problems between you.”

  Ben started to stand, but Czar suddenly jumped up. His big paws landed squarely on Ben’s diaphragm, almost knocking the wind out of him. “I can’t,” he said, burying his face in Czar’s thick coat. “I have enough to worry about with Czar.”

  Joely joined him on the couch. She put her arm around his shoulder. “I’m sorry, Benjie,” she whispered, using her childhood nickname for him. “I know the timing sucks, but you have to try.”

  Ben’s gut churned. The picture of his father Ben carried in his head was of a surly drunk, one hand raised in anger. But lately, other memories had wiggled past his defenses. Like the time we went fishing with Grandpa. Dad had been laughing then. He never laughed.

  Like me.

  Joely grabbed his face and said sternly, “You can’t wait forever, Ben. Didn’t this near miss with Jill and Czar teach you anything? Life is fragile.”

  Ben closed his eyes and sighed. “Okay. I’ll call.”