For Her Eyes Only Page 6

  “There’s a man waiting to see you. He said Dr. Howell sent him.”

  Stone nodded. “Tell him to have a seat. I’ll be right back.”

  He headed for the break room, moments later, pouring what was left in the pot in his cup, dregs and all. When some of it splattered on the toe of his boot and the edge of his jeans, he frowned, then took a quick sip on the way out the door, thankful it had missed his white shirt. It was the last clean one he had.

  On his way back to his desk, he glanced into the hall at the brawl in progress. Two men were trading blows while a woman stood nearby, screeching at the top of her lungs. In the midst of it all, he got a glimpse of red hair and a dark blue uniform, and grinned. Delancey, a beat cop and a nineteen-year veteran of the force, had it under control. The complainants just didn’t know it yet.

  As Stone reentered the room, he paused in the doorway, taking careful note of the man sitting at his desk. He was lean and looked unnaturally pale. His blond hair had recently been cut. His jeans and shirt were unremarkable in style, but clean. As Stone neared his desk, the man suddenly stood, and the cold blue intensity of his gaze, as well as the way he waited without moving, gave Stone an impression of military bearing.

  “Have a seat,” Stone said.

  They both sat, and Stone took a last sip of his coffee before shoving aside a stack of papers to make room for his cup.

  “So, what can I do for you, Mr.—?”

  The man shifted nervously. “You can call me Smith. Martin Smith. However, I seriously doubt that it’s my name.”

  He had Stone’s attention. “Excuse me?”

  The man took a deep breath. “I don’t know who I am. My entire memory consists of the past few days. I don’t remember anything before Friday evening, when I wandered into the emergency room of your local hospital.”

  Stone gave him another glance, this time more thorough.

  “Were you injured?”

  Smith shook his head. “Yes, but not much. They guessed I probably suffered a blow to the head. I had some cuts and bruises, but I’ve had worse.” The moment that came out, he looked startled. “How did I know that?” he muttered, then sighed in frustration.

  Stone picked up a pen and started making notes. “Friday. That would be five days ago.”

  “During the storm.”

  Stone nodded. Another set of troubles to add to the mess they were already trying to unknot.

  “And you hadn’t been in an accident?”

  Smith shrugged. “I don’t know. All I remember is that my head hurt. I’d been walking for some time, through mud and debris. Most streets were blocked off. Everything was dark. And then I saw lights in the distance and headed toward them.”

  Stone remembered what Vanderbilt Memorial had looked like that night. The lights had been weak and flickering, but the security they represented had been comforting, even to him.

  “So, what do you want of me?” Stone asked.

  Smith hesitated briefly, then his jaw squared and he leaned forward. “Maybe you could check missing persons reports. And I want you to fingerprint me. See if I have an identity on record. See if I’m—” He paused and then looked away, unable to finish the horror of what he was thinking.

  Stone finished it for him. “See if you’re in our database or if there’s a warrant somewhere for your arrest?”

  He looked up. “Yes. No matter what, I want to know.”

  “Okay,” Stone said, and turned a fresh page on the pad. “Let’s talk. We might get some answers from you that you didn’t know you had.”

  Smith began to talk while Stone asked the occasional question, making notes in between and trying to make himself heard above everything else that was going on.

  A short while later, he looked up from his desk to realize that in the midst of the turmoil in which they sat, he was hearing Jessie Hanson’s voice. Before he could turn around, he heard her take a deep breath. He wasn’t prepared for what she said.

  “Detective, I think I witnessed a murder.”

  He reacted with a jerk, which sent his chair scooting on the floor beneath him. Martin Smith was still waiting for Stone’s next question, but Stone’s mind had scattered. He couldn’t think. Couldn’t move. Couldn’t focus. All he could do was listen.

  * * *

  Jessica Hanson took the chair at Detective Chang’s desk as she’d been instructed to do, nodding her willingness to wait while he finished a call. Her nerves were on edge, and she couldn’t believe she was actually here. As she sat, she gazed around the room, curious as to the jumble of people and sounds. But when she realized that some of the people at whom she was staring were in handcuffs, she gasped and dropped her gaze, unwilling to be caught gawking at a felon.

  Still in shock, she kept her eyes on the floor, trying to tell herself it would be all right. In the middle of her personal pep talk, she began to focus on one particular voice out of the crowd. One that was all too familiar and, to her dismay, right behind her.

  Flea bites, it’s Stone. She should have known he’d be here.

  Jessica was at the point of walking out when Chang hung up the phone. His smile was friendly as he looked at the note on his desk, and then at Jessica.

  “Miss Hanson, is it?”

  She nodded and wrapped her fingers a little tighter around the strap of her purse, wishing someone was holding her as tightly as she was holding the leather.

  “So, what brings you here?” he asked.

  “Detective, I think I witnessed a murder.”

  The legs of a chair squeaked on the floor behind her and Jessica groaned inwardly. Stone had to have overheard what she said. She thought of Olivia and took a deep breath, refusing to be swayed by Stone’s presence. He wasn’t why she’d come.

  Chang sat up straight and picked up a pen. “Murder? Whose murder?”

  “Olivia Stuart’s.”

  The expectation on his face smoothed away into one of disbelief.

  “I’m sorry, Miss Hanson, but you’re mistaken. Olivia Stuart died of a heart attack.”

  “I know what they say, but I also know what I saw. She didn’t have a heart attack. She was stabbed in the back of the leg with a hypodermic needle by a tall woman dressed in black. I saw it happen.”

  Chang frowned. “Why have you waited so long to come forward?”

  “Well, I spent the night in the hospital the night of the blackout, and after that…” She hesitated, unwilling to admit that she’d doubted herself.

  Chang had already noticed the bandage beneath her bangs. “Yes, I see that you hurt your head.”

  Jessica nodded. “I work at Squaw Creek Lodge. I was in my office and working on payroll when the lights went out. I tripped and fell, hitting my head on some file cabinets. When I came to, I saw a light. I turned toward it and saw Olivia Stuart. She was wearing a teal dress and smiling at a picture she held in her hands. At first, I thought she was in my office. I called out for help, but she didn’t come. The scent of gardenias was suddenly all around me, and then I saw someone come up behind her and stab her in the back of the leg with a hypodermic needle. It was a woman. She was dressed in black and I’m not sure, but I think she had blond hair.”

  Chang interrupted. “Wait a minute. Are you telling me you had some sort of vision? That what you saw happened after you fell and hit your head?”

  Jessica bit her lip.

  Chang dropped his pen and leaned back in his chair. “Miss Hanson, were you in the hospital when Olivia Stuart was brought in?”

  She bit her lip and held her ground. “I don’t know. I don’t remember much about my accident until the next day, but I know what I saw when I came to in my office.”

  “And that was before they took you to the hospital.”

  “Correct.”

  By now, Chang’s frown was obvious. “Look, Miss Hanson. I appreciate what you’re trying to say, but you’ve got to look at this from my standpoint. You suffered a head injury. You wake up smelling flowers and hallucinating abo
ut…”

  Jessica stood up. Her eyes were shiny with unshed tears as she clutched her purse to her belly like a shield.

  “I didn’t imagine a thing. I saw Olivia Stuart being attacked. I saw her drop the picture she was holding. I saw a woman stab her in the back of the leg with a hypodermic needle. I saw her clutch her chest then fall forward, across the table and then onto the floor.”

  “Well, thank you for coming. I’ll check out your story.”

  “No, Detective Chang, I don’t believe that you will. And I’d appreciate it if you wouldn’t lie to me, because I didn’t lie to you.”

  She was gone before Stone could get out of his chair. He glared at Chang in disbelief. “Why did you let her leave like that?”

  Chang grinned. “Are you kidding? That lady’s a little off plumb. She needs to see a doctor, not a cop.”

  Stone’s instinct was to go after her, but he had a man with no memory sitting at his desk, waiting for answers Stone couldn’t give. He glanced at Martin Smith, then back at Chang.

  “I’ll tell you what. You take Mr. Smith here up to Fingerprinting, then run his info through NCIC. See if there are any wants or warrants out on him.”

  Chang looked startled. “But…”

  “Also, it’s highly unlikely that Martin Smith is his real name, because he’s claiming amnesia.”

  Stone glanced at Stryker, who was still on the phone. He remembered Stryker telling him that Olivia Stuart had still been alive when they’d gotten her to Vanderbilt. Supposedly, she’d whispered the word “coal” before she died. It was common knowledge that the mayor had been vocally opposed to a strip mining consortium that was trying to renew leases in their area. What if…?

  He wouldn’t let himself go past the thought, because that would be giving credence to Jessica’s claim to have seen a murder without actually being present, and that made no sense. Still…

  “Chang, when Stryker gets off the phone, tell him I’m following up on a lead.”

  Chang frowned. “That’s no lead. That’s just a pretty woman who needs to go to bed.” And then he grinned. “Or maybe that was your plan all along.”

  “Shut the hell up and do as I asked,” Stone said, and then left.

  A few minutes later, he pulled out of the parking lot and onto the street without giving himself time to back out of what he intended to do. He didn’t know why, but he had a hunch he needed to hear more. And then his car lurched and began to list to one side, making enough noise, as it did, to garner unwanted attention. He pulled over to the curb and got out. It was just as he’d feared. He had a flat tire.

  * * *

  When Jessica opened the door, she had on jeans shorts and a T-shirt, and was clutching a wad of tissues. The fact that she was barefoot and crying made Stone reach for her, but when she saw who was on her doorstep, she took a wary step back.

  “What are you doing here?” she asked.

  “I want you to tell me what you told Chang.”

  She frowned. “Why, so you can make fun of me, too?”

  “Am I laughing?”

  Her gaze went from the somber expression on his face to the breadth of his shoulders beneath his sport coat, to his jeans and boots, and then back up again, lingering one last time on his mouth. Slowly she stepped aside.

  He walked in, shutting the door behind him, then stared at her, waiting for permission he wasn’t sure he would get.

  “Please?”

  She bit her lip and wished the very sight of him didn’t make her weak at the knees. “Oh, why not? I’ve already made a fool of myself once. It shouldn’t be any worse the second time around.” She gestured toward the living room. “Do come in, Detective. Make yourself comfortable. Would you care for some coffee?”

  “Is it better than your food?”

  She glared, resenting his seemingly innocent remark. It was a less-than-subtle reminder that he knew a lot more about her than the fact that she wasn’t much of a cook. But she’d stopped off at the market after leaving the precinct. At least the milk she had to pour in the coffee was fresh.

  “Beggars can’t be choosers,” she said, and strode toward the kitchen.

  Stone ignored her offer to wait in the living room and followed her.

  * * *

  Stone glanced up at the clock on the wall, then took a last swig of coffee, telling himself that he’d had worse, although right now, he couldn’t remember when. He flipped his notebook shut and slipped it into his pocket, surprised that they’d been talking for nearly two hours.

  “So, is that all you can remember?”

  Jessica stared at his chin, unable to meet his gaze as she asked, “Do you believe me?”

  Stone sighed. “It isn’t about me believing you. It’s about you believing what you saw. I know you’re not trying to pull a fast one, Jessie. But…”

  “But you think I’m nuts.”

  Stone frowned. “Jessie Leigh, we are no longer at a point in our relationship where I’m going to tell you what I think about you. However, I will admit that I do think about you.”

  Her lips parted in shock as the insinuation of what he’d just said soaked in.

  Stone leaned back in his chair, rocking on the two back legs, when something occurred.

  “Hey, Jessie.”

  “What?”

  “Do you… I mean…besides the attack on Olivia, have you had any other, uh…” A little embarrassed, his voice trailed away.

  Jessica sighed. “You mean, have I had any other flashes of inspiration?”

  “Yeah, something like that.”

  “Actually, I have.”

  It wasn’t what he’d expected her to say.

  “Brenda lost her keys, and then I saw where they were.” She folded her arms across her chest. “And, I was right.”

  He listened, saving whatever he was thinking for later.

  Some of the bravado went out of her as she added, “And I knew that Sheila Biggers’s house was on fire.”

  The legs of his chair hit the floor with a thump.

  “You what?”

  Unable to look at him, she looked down at the table, instead. It was almost more than she could handle to admit what was happening to her to a man who’d seen her naked body. It felt as if the telling of these incidents was stripping her right down to her soul. Her voice lowered, and her hands began to tremble.

  “Monday I was at the lodge. I’d just finished payroll and picked up the phone to call Sheila. She’s the manager’s administrative assistant. I wanted to tell her the checks were ready to be signed, but when I looked down, I didn’t see my desk. Instead, I saw fire eating up a kitchen wall. I heard myself shouting to her that her house was on fire.”

  “What did she do?” Stone asked.

  Jessica looked up, meeting his gaze with a cool, unblinking stare. “Hung up on me. But when I went into the boss’s office later, she was gone. I found out that I’d been right. That my phone call had saved her house from being destroyed.”

  Stone frowned.

  “You can check it out,” she said. “But when you do, don’t tell her it was me who called. I have to work there, you know.” She shoved her hands through her hair in frustration, carefully missing the bandage at the hairline. “They already think I’m weird. This would probably get me fired.”

  Stone glanced at her hair and then arched an eyebrow, trying to come to some kind of terms with the fact that the long blond locks he’d wrapped in his hands as he’d buried himself in her body were no longer there. “You’re not weird, Jessie Leigh. I’d say you’re kind of cute…and definitely unique.”

  Jessica refused to admit that he’d just made her day.

  “But, you still think I’m guessing lucky, don’t you?”

  He spread his hands. “I don’t know what to think. But I do know it’s easy to lose things. We all do. And there are only so many places they can be, right?”

  She didn’t answer, and he kept trying to make his point.

  “Take this mo
rning. I wrote a check for my rent, then couldn’t find the darn thing anywhere. It was there one minute and gone the next. I wound up voiding it and writing out another. It’ll turn up eventually. It has to.”

  One minute Jessica was hearing Stone’s voice, and the next thing she knew, the air had shifted. She was seeing a place where she’d never been, and somebody else’s things.

  Paper. Fingers—clutching a pen. Writing in dark, bold strokes. A cabinet top. Water. Plastic wrap next to a bright blue coffee cup.

  A familiar scent yanked her out of the past and she jerked.

  “Cheese.”

  Stone grinned. He’d expected her to call him something worse, like dog breath.

  “Now, Jessie, I didn’t mean to hurt your feelings.”

  She jumped to her feet and started to pace. “No! I mean your check is stuck to some cheese.”

  He flashed on writing his check—and the omelette he’d been making. Suddenly, his skin crawled. No way, he thought, then glanced at his watch and stood up.

  “No matter what happens, on behalf of the Grand Springs Police Department, I want to thank you for coming forward as you did. If more people would be willing to get involved, it would make my job a whole lot simpler.”

  Jessica began to relax. It was the best she’d felt since getting up this morning. In fact, she almost smiled.

  “You’re welcome,” she said. “I’ll walk you to the door.”

  Stone resisted the urge to kiss her goodbye. The last time he had, he’d been here in the capacity of a friend, and even then the kiss had been an overstepping of bounds. They were no longer lovers. Hell, from the way she behaved when he was around, he was even pushing his luck to still think of her as a friend. No more kissing. Not now. Maybe not ever again. This time he was on the job. He had rules. Then he looked down. Lingering tears shimmered on the surface of her eyes. He groaned.

  “To hell with rules.”

  Before she could move, or he could talk himself out of the act, he leaned down.

  Lips met, surface to surface. One of them sighed, the other one groaned.

  Turn her loose before it’s too late!

  Stone did as his conscience demanded, but the moment he let her go, he wanted her back.