Killer Career (10 page)

A while back she must have meant to read it and it had somehow had
gotten buried. Thank goodness it had taken that moment to emerge. It
contained outdated news, but would serve the purpose.

Again Jensen singled her out. “Well, Ms. McGuire, I see I didn’t
scare you off. May I ask what you found?”

“A story of a woman murdered in her bed. The weapon was unusual, a
lock pick.”

A flash of recognition shot through his eyes. “Where did you get
that?”

“From an old clipping I’d saved and almost forgotten about.”

“I see.”

He paused, as if lost in thought, then said, “Well, I guess I’ll
have to confess. Ms. McGuire, you have uncovered the plot of
Goodbye, My Darling
, the novel I’ve just completed. It deals
with an unsolved murder performed precisely in the manner you
described. Congratulations on being so clever,” he said, throwing
daggers at her. “Now, did someone else find an article about
something I haven’t worked on?”

The participants laughed, except for Julie, who sat frowning. She’d
followed his instructions, yet he acted as if she’d done something
wrong. Strange. She didn’t even remember placing the article under
the mouse pad. Now she wished she’d never uncovered it.

She barely took in the rest of his class. When it was over she didn’t
even look in Jensen’s direction as she rushed from her chair to the
door. He didn’t call after her this time. That was fine. She didn’t
need him.

Once outside and breathing in the early summer air, reason returned.
Why was she being so sensitive? She was a novice and could use all
the help she could get. The man was an expert. If she was serious
about her craft, she’d take what he dished out. Thin skin was not
an option.

Chapter Eleven

Dade frowned as he stared at the brimming briefcase he’d plunked
down on the side of the couch. Damn, he’d never catch up. The
bombshell of Julie’s announcement had thrown him into such a
tailspin he couldn’t think straight. That was before Nora’s
actions had put him on his present guilt trip. He’d never find his
way out of this mess. June had flown by and he’d not taken time to
enjoy it. He had to get a life.

Work could wait. He needed a break. Grabbing his cell from his
pocket, he dialed Todd’s number.

“How ya doin’ buddy,” he asked.

“Good. In fact, very good. Are you ready for this? I met someone.”

“You don’t say.”

“Yes, I do. Her name is Kath. She moved into the townhouse next
door. Funny thing is, I met her when we were both taking out the
garbage. Anyway, we got to talking and we’ve hit it off. I’m
taking it slow, but so far, so good. She’s a lot different than
Laura, but special in her own way.”

“When do I get a look,” Dade asked.

“Well, we could meet you and the rest of the bunch at Kimball Hill
next week and get it over with all at once.”

“Oh, yeah, the fireworks. I forgot. Sure, I’ll meet you at the
usual spot.”

About seven years ago, after fighting the crowds at the Chicago
lakefront once too often, the family had tried the fireworks at the
small town of Rolling Meadows, halfway between where Mom, Julie,
Avery and her husband, Garrett, lived.

After the first visit, the display had proven so breathtaking it
became a tradition to keep going there. Todd and Laura had once had
been part of the entourage, but he’d stopped when he’d lost his
wife. It was a good sign he wanted to participate again.

Dade dialed his mother. “Everyone’s going to the fireworks,
right?”

“Of course, don’t we always? I’ll meet you at Julie’s and
you can drive us to Avery’s. Then we can have Garrett haul us all
in the van. You know how crowded it gets.”

* * *

Dade leaned against Julie’s kitchen counter, watching her blonde
hair fly, as she darted back and forth, grabbing containers, plastic
utensils, plates and a tablecloth.

If only he could stop her in her tracks and make her see reason. She
couldn’t leave him high and dry. He needed her.

It was a holiday and he wouldn’t spoil it, so he’d keep his mouth
shut.

“Okay, I think I’m ready,” she said, glancing around the room
in search of stray items. Apparently satisfied, she closed the wicker
basket and handed him a bag to carry.

He gave her a knowing smile. “Not so fast. I believe you’ve
forgotten something.”

Her forehead puckered prettily. “I don’t think so.”

“Well, those fluffy pink slippers are sure to get grass stains on
them.”

She almost dropped the basket.

“Hey, steady,” he said, reaching to grab it.

His wrist brushed against hers, making him jump. She flashed him a
strange look and practically threw the basket at him.

“Fine, you hold it. I’ll get my gym shoes. I know they’re in
the bedroom somewhere.”

Oh, brother. The bedroom. He knew from all accounts that Julie was a
sporadic housekeeper. He would not think of the invitation of her
unmade bed.

The doorbell rang. Dade breathed a sigh of relief. Mom to the rescue.

* * *

They all climbed out of the van, the women carrying picnic baskets,
the men, coolers, chairs and blankets. Dade set down the cooler and
Garrett spread the comforters over their usual spot under the maple.

All around them, families claimed their territories. The smell of
popcorn filled the air, along with children’s laughter. The scene
was familiar and right. It might seem corny to some people, but he
dug
this sort of thing.

Dade contentedly breathed in the warm summer air. He smiled, watching
his Mom tell Julie about the real estate class she was taking. It was
good to see Mom enjoying herself. Her heart still held a lot of
sorrow, but after all this time she was finally coming out of her
shell.

Last Christmas, when they were gathered at her house, he’d reached
into the bureau drawer for a set of matches to light the holiday
candles. His fingers had closed on his father’s picture.

He pulled it out and stared at the face that was so much like his
own: the same dark hair, the same blue eyes, the same high cheek
bones.

The photographer had done remarkable job of capturing Kurt Donovan’s
essence: the reckless, all-knowing eyes and the devil-may-care smile.
Dade felt sick just looking at the likeness of the man who’d
deserted his wife and family. He jammed the picture back in the
drawer.

Damn, why was he thinking of that scum now instead of enjoying the
moment? While he’d been dwelling on the negative, Julie and Mom
had gone off on another tangent, this time about flower gardens. Mom
proudly proclaimed how many plants she’d nurtured, while Julie took
the opportunity to confess if she hadn’t planted perennials when
she’d first moved into her ranch home, she’d have no garden at
all.

“Just as well or your beautiful long fingernails would get dirty
and broken like mine are most of the time,” Mom said.

“I’m quite good at breaking my fingernails. Planting’s not the
only way to do it, you know,” Julie quipped back.

As the two of them laughed, Dade couldn’t help but smile. It was
only right that Julie and Mom got along so well. After all she was
family, though in looks she bore no resemblance to them.

Flowers were pretty, but discussing their relative merits was a bit
much. Dade turned to see what Avery and Garrett were up to. He found
his sister, her straight dark hair escaping from her pony tail,
lifting a mysterious plastic container from her picnic basket. She
placed it with ceremony on the vinyl tablecloth spread on the grass.

“Must we be your guinea pigs? Have some mercy.” Dade groaned
and clutched his stomach. His sister’s lack of cooking prowess was
legendary.

She pushed her hair from her face and glared at him. “This time
your gastrointestinal tracts will be spared. Garrett made the taco
dip. I only bought the chips.”

“Poor man has to cook his own meals. I guess he’s learned the
hard way to fend for himself.”

Garrett leered. “There’s a lot to be said for the hard way.
Avery’s cooking is definitely not why I married her.”

Refusing to rise to the bait, Avery arched her eyebrows and remained
silent.

The stocky, crew cut haired Garrett was down-to-earth and a great
sport. He seemed a great match for Avery, and Dade sensed he could be
counted on in a pinch. Not like their Dad who preferred booze to
people.

Dade enviously tuned into the interplay between his sister and her
husband. What would it be like to have a soul mate? Julie was the
only person he’d ever been able to talk to like that, but now
things had changed. He’d thought he knew her inside and out, but
man, had he been wrong.

“Hi there,” a familiar voice broke in on his thoughts.

He glanced up to find Todd clutching a picnic basket with one hand
and a tall, multi-freckled redhead’s hand with the other. Her face
held an innocent quality. Dade hoped her appearance wasn’t
deceptive. Todd deserved a break.

“And who might this be,” Dade asked.

“Okay, here goes. Kathy O’Reilly, meet the whole clan. Here’s
my good buddy, Dade Donovan, his mother, Marcia Donovan, his sister,
Avery Jacoby, her husband, Garrett, and honorary sister, Julie
McGuire.”

As Todd set down the basket, Kathy beamed and shook hands all around.
She then bent down, lifted the cover, and withdrew a platter of
deviled eggs. “I brought something for the occasion. I hope you
like it.”

Dade smiled with approval. “Better keep this one, Todd. She knows
how to cook. No offense, Avery.”

His sister gouged him in the arm and he let out a mock groan.

They sat joking and watching the sky darken. Kathy’s laugh was
infectious, her witticisms astute. She fit in as if she’d always
been here.

Except she hadn’t. Once upon a time, Laura had been Todd’s
leading lady. She still would be if it hadn’t been for the drunken
driver who’d erased her.

“Ahh,” Julie said, glancing up at the burst of color.

As Dade looked over at his partner, a scary thought hit him. What had
happened to Laura could happen to anyone. Thank God, it hadn’t been
Julie.

Chapter Twelve

Julie sat smiling in her downtown Chicago office, the blinds
partially open. Mid July sunlight splayed across the desk,
transforming her scattered papers into psychedelic creations.

The sun glinted off the paperclips in their open holder. She’d
purchased the wooden trinket box with the two loons etched on top at
Loon Land Trading Co. in Minocqua, Wisconsin last year. The small box
with its swinging hinge was designed to hold pills or jewelry, but
she’d converted it to its present utilitarian purpose. Whenever she
got nervous or depressed, a glance at her loons reminded her of the
peaceful time she’d spent at Dade’s North Woods cottage on Big
Arbor Vitae Lake, near Minocqua.

Dade had graciously handled her caseload last summer, while she, far
removed from Chicago’s rat race, had enjoyed a carefree week of
solitude and writing

She’d flung open the doors and windows, letting in the cool lake
breeze. A blue heron, ungainly on land, turned graceful as it
majestically flew over the water. A mama duck with her tribe of five
ducklings swam lazily by.

She loved such glimpses of nature, but even more intriguing were the
black and white speckled loons. The mournful, beautiful sound of
their yodels to each other across the lake inspired an inexplicable
wanting deep inside of her.

If it weren’t for her decision to leave the firm, she would have
been in Wisconsin right now vacationing with Marcia and Avery.
Instead of hearing horns blaring and sirens pealing from the street
below, she’d have been listening to the gentle sounds of the Great
Outdoors and breathing in the pine scented air.

Julie sighed. Vacation must wait until she waded through the mounds
of paperwork which claimed her attention. Legal descriptions to
examine, trials to get ready, new cases to consider, telephone
messages to answer, her duties were endless. Would she ever break
loose?

She needed to remind Dade to look for a partner. He seemed to be
ignoring the inevitable, as if that would make her stay longer. He
had to accept she couldn’t go on like this. It wasn’t her
anymore.

She’d driven downtown early his morning instead of relaxing on the
train, since she’d be working late again.

Julie swung the top of the holder closed and took a deep breath. In
a few minutes she’d tear herself away from the office and trek to
the Illinois Workers’ Compensation Commission where she’d fight
for her clients’ rights. Before that, she’d relax a few more
minutes, enjoy the loons on the paperclip holder, and think good
thoughts.

Like how in a few days she’d be at the workshop. Delicious
anticipation shot through her at the thought. She loved the learning
process and could hardly wait to incorporate some of it in her book.
Also, she had to admit Jensen’s continued interest in her was
flattering.

It was fun daydreaming and not thinking of chores. With her mind
still in the clouds, she grabbed her briefcase and told Dee she’d
be back around noon.

As she stepped into the dreaded elevator and the doors closed behind
her, the familiar helpless feeling rushed over her, making her feel
faint. The slow descent began. Would the torture every stop?

It wouldn’t hurt to adopt Jensen’s advice. Transferring her fears
to the typewritten page would be daring, but ignoring them hadn’t
helped. As soon as she got a chance, she’d explore that
possibility.

As the doors swung open on the ground floor, she breathed a sigh of
relief. She’d made it. She was safe.

* * *