Don't Cry Part 25

"Nothing. It's just that Hart's thirty-three, so he's a little old for you. If I remember correctly, you're twenty-two, right?"

"I'll be twenty-two next month," Jessica admitted. "I guess he is a little too old for me."

Hart didn't mean to break hearts right and left, but he did. He changed girlfriends as often as Audrey changed the sheets on her bed. Liking women wasn't a crime, but using them, as he used drugs and booze, to ease the deep ache inside him was a crime. A moral crime.

Audrey left Jessica a big tip and a word of advice. "If my brother asks you out, say no."

As she exited the spa and turned to her right, she caught a glimpse of a familiar car in her peripheral vision. Another silver Lotus Exige identical to Porter Bryant's cherished sports car. Of course, it couldn't be Porter's car. It was probably the same car she'd seen in her rearview mirror on the drive from her office to the spa. She couldn't think of any reason Porter would be parked at this strip mall.

Bracing herself for lunch with her brother, telling herself that she would not warn him about flirting with young girls, Audrey was caught off guard when someone came up behind her and grabbed her arm.

She whirled around, uncertain and slightly alarmed, and then heaved with relief when she saw the man's face. "Porter!"

"I thought that was you," he said. "Meeting someone for lunch in an out-of-the-way place? It wouldn't happen to be J.D. Ca.s.s, would it?"

A cautious knot formed in the pit of Audrey's stomach when she noticed the strangely accusatory look in Porter's eyes and felt his hand on her arm tighten painfully.

She jerked loose from his tenacious hold. "I'm having lunch with Hart, if it's any of your business."

Porter's smile sent off alarm bells inside Audrey.

My G.o.d, you're being silly. Porter Bryant is not dangerous.

"I'm glad to hear that," he told her. "I'd hate to see you get mixed up with a man like Ca.s.s."

"I appreciate your concern, but I can a.s.sure you that I'm not involved with Special Agent Ca.s.s. However, if I were, I'm quite capable of taking care of myself."

"I apologize if I overstepped with my concern." Porter looked at her longingly. "It's just that I care a great deal and wouldn't want you to get hurt."

Sensing the sincerity of his apology, Audrey leaned over and kissed his cheek. "Apology accepted. Take care, Porter. I'm sorry, but I have to run. Hart's waiting for me at the Sandwich Shoppe."

"Yes, of course. Go."

Audrey didn't glance back as she entered the restaurant. When she saw Hart at a window-side table, she hurried toward him and did her best to ignore the slightly uneasy feeling in the pit of her stomach. Surely, Porter Bryant wasn't stalking her.

Chapter 19

"Was that Porter Bryant you were talking to?" Hart asked when Audrey sat down at the table in the Sandwich Shoppe.

"Yes, it was Porter."

Hart examined her face closely. "What's wrong? Did Porter say something that upset you?"

Her stepbrother knew her too well and had apparently noted some nuance in her expression that hinted she was slightly unnerved. "No, not really. It's just he showed up out of nowhere and startled me."

"Do you think he followed you here?"

Audrey shook her head. "No, I don't think so. But...We've agreed not to see each other anymore. Our last date was supposed to have been this past Friday night, but something came up and I had to cancel."

"Another man?" The corners of Hart's mouth curved in a barely discernable smile.

"No. Certainly not."

"Maybe Porter isn't ready to end things. Could be he thinks there is another man and he followed you today to see who you were meeting."

Audrey released an agitated breath. "He did ask who I was meeting for lunch. For some reason, he thought my lunch date was with Special Agent Ca.s.s and he warned me not to become involved with J.D."

"He warned you? I don't like the sound of that." Hart rose halfway as he said, "I think maybe I'd better have a talk with Porter."

"No, you will not." Audrey laid her hand on Hart's arm and motioned for him to sit back down. He looked her in the eyes and saw that she meant what she'd said. "I can handle Porter. I don't need my brother socking him in the nose."

They both laughed, which eased the tension that had coiled tighter and tighter inside Audrey since the moment Porter had grabbed her arm outside the restaurant.

"Let's order, if you haven't already," Audrey suggested. "And forget all about Porter Bryant."

Hart motioned to the waitress, an attractive young blond who giggled the entire time she was taking their order. The girl looked to be about twenty, but that didn't stop Hart from flirting outrageously with her the moment he realized she couldn't take her eyes off him. As soon as she left to place their order with the cook, Hart watched her walk away, obviously appreciating the view of her slim hips and small, inverted heartshaped derriere.

Audrey snapped her fingers and Hart turned to face her, his slightly wicked grin telling her that he knew she didn't approve of his interest in the waitress.

"You're shameless," she told him. "First Jessica and now our waitress, who is just barely legal. She could be eighteen, certainly not a day over twenty."

"Ah, come on, sis. All I was doing was flirting a little." When he noted that she was still frowning, he added, "I flirt a little, but most of the time, that's all. If I ask a woman out, I don't lead her on. I tell her, up front, that I'm not into anything serious, that I'm a recovering alcoholic and addict, and for her not to get any ideas about being the one who's going to save me from myself."

"Oh, Hart." Audrey reached across the table and laid her hand over his.

"I'm not a complete a.s.shole, you know. But I do like the ladies. I always have." He gave her hand a gentle squeeze. "You didn't want to see me to discuss my love life."

The waitress brought their gla.s.ses of sweet iced tea, but when Hart didn't pay any attention to her, she didn't tarry.

"I thought we should talk about the DNA results, about the Baby Blue toddlers...about Blake." About the fact that I'm having nightmares again and I'm sure you are, too. About the fact that I'm having nightmares again and I'm sure you are, too.

"What's there to talk about?" Hart asked.

"The fact that after all these years, two of the toddlers have been found."

"Yeah, both of them dead."

"If the Rocking Chair Killer murders Whitney Poole before the police can find her, then there's a good possibility that another toddler skeleton will show up. What if...?" She paused, her thoughts almost unbearable.

"What if the next corpse is Blake's?" Hart finished for her.

"For years, I've hoped and prayed for a miracle, that somehow Blake was still alive, that he wasn't one of Regina Bennett's victims," Audrey said. "I know how illogical that sounds."

"Don't you think that Dad has held on to the hope that Blake's alive? And G.o.d knows that I'd give anything..." Hart swallowed. "And Uncle Garth...We'd all like for Blake to be alive and well and for him to come home to us, but it's not going to happen. You have to know that Blake's dead. He's been dead for twenty-five years."

Biting down on her bottom lip, Audrey nodded. "I know. In my mind, I know." She laid her hand in the center of her chest. "But in my heart...If, G.o.d forbid, another toddler corpse shows up and it turns out to be Blake, it could bring closure for all of us. But I don't know how Dad will react. I have absolutely no idea what my father thinks or feels or...G.o.d, Hart, I don't know my own father. I don't think I ever did."

The waitress returned with their lunch order-sandwiches, soup, chips, pickles, and a fruit cup for Audrey and a slice of apple pie for Hart.

Suddenly the very thought of eating tightened Audrey's throat. She wasn't sure she could swallow a bite. Hart bit off a huge chunk of his steak and cheese sandwich, apparently not having a problem eating.

Audrey took a sip of tea. "I've been having nightmares again."

He lifted his head and stared at her. "Since when?"

"Since the first Rocking Chair Murder."

"I thought...I mean, it's been years, hasn't it, since you dreamed about Blake, about that day?"

"You'd think that after all these years, the dreams wouldn't still be so vivid, as if it had all happened only yesterday."

"Are the dreams just like they used to be?"

"Pretty much. Parts of the dreams are exactly the way I remember that day, but other parts are all mixed up and don't make a lot of sense. But that's the way dreams are. Dreams and nightmares." She forced out her question quickly. "Do you still have nightmares, too?"

Hart stopped eating. He became very still and very quiet. Then he inhaled a deep breath and exhaled slowly.

"h.e.l.l, sis, my whole life is a freaking nightmare. Awake or asleep, Blake haunts me. Inside my head, I've relived that day over and over again. If only, huh?" He picked up his sandwich and began eating again.

"It wasn't your fault," she told him. "And it wasn't my fault. It wasn't anybody's fault. We were a couple of kids who shouldn't have been given the responsibility of looking after our baby brother. It wasn't Enid's fault because she was sick or my dad's fault because he was at work. Or Uncle Garth's fault because he couldn't find Blake."

Hart didn't respond. Audrey understood. After all, what else was there to say?

J.D. spent most of the day with Tam and Garth, who were still in charge of the Rocking Chair Killer cases. They had gone over the basic facts again, reread the eyewitness accounts, and discussed the forensic reports on the evidence found at each dump site. And now that they had irrefutable proof that the murder cases were somehow connected to the old Baby Blue kidnapping cases, even Garth reluctantly agreed that one of J.D.'s hypotheses about the killer's ident.i.ty could be valid.

"If we could just figure out which, if any, of your scenarios is the right one," Tam said. "We could bring Jeremy Arden in for questioning, but unless he chooses to talk to us, we have nothing that we can use to hold him."

"Yeah, and if he's our guy, bringing him in would alert him to the fact that we're suspicious," Garth said. "Why not tail him first, see where he goes, who he spends time with, what he does?"

"Putting Arden under surveillance is a good idea," J.D. agreed. "But not just Arden."

Garth snorted. "Humph. You want to put a tail on me and Wayne and Hart and Steve Kelly, too? Do you honest to G.o.d think one of us is the Rocking Chair Killer?"

J.D. glared at Tam. Obviously Officer Lovelady had shared his comments about how any one of them, under certain circ.u.mstances, could be a suspect.

"s.h.i.+t!" J.D. mumbled under his breath. "No, I don't actually think you or Wayne Sherrod is the killer. Steve Kelly is another matter. He's probably not our guy, but I wouldn't rule him out completely. And your nephew...I know you don't even want to consider the possibility that he-"

"d.a.m.n right I don't," Garth said. "Hart's a little screwed up, but he's not crazy. And there's no way he's a serial killer."

"Yeah, that's what Tam said." J.D. appraised the way Garth and his partner shared quick, cryptic glances and then deliberately avoided eye contact. Despite their vehement denials that Hart Roberts shouldn't even be considered as a suspect, did Tam and Garth actually have some doubts? Did they know something about Hart that they weren't sharing, something that could incriminate him?

When the silence dragged on for several minutes, those minutes seeming much longer than they actually were, Garth cleared his throat and tossed out a comment.

"You know, there's one possibility that we haven't considered."

"What's that?" J.D. asked.

"Maybe there isn't a connection between the Baby Blue cases and the Rocking Chair cases," Garth said.

J.D. could tell by Tam's puzzled expression that she was as surprised by her partner's remark as J.D. was.

"There's a connection," Tam said. "We have the DNA results and we've compared photos of the three kidnapped women to photos of Regina Bennett, and the resemblance is obvious."

"Yeah, all three women fit the same general profile. Young, attractive, long dark hair and brown eyes," Garth said. "I agree that our guy is abducting women who resemble one another, that he's targeting a specific type. But the fact that, years ago, Regina Bennett fit that profile doesn't mean that there's a connection between our victims and Regina."

"Are you forgetting about the toddler skeletons? About the DNA tests that prove they belong to two of the Baby Blue toddlers?" J.D. asked.

"No, I haven't forgotten," Garth a.s.sured him. "But what if our killer somehow came across where Regina Bennett or somebody else had hidden the bodies? What if there's another explanation for why he put those toddlers in his victims' arms?"

"You're not making any sense," Tam told him. "What you're suggesting is too far-fetched to be believable. Why are you trying so hard to come up with another-?" She stopped midsentence as if suddenly understanding the reason behind Garth's absurd explanation.

Tam turned and walked toward the door. "I need a break. I'm going to take a walk."

Garth dropped down into the chair behind his desk. Then he reached up and rubbed the back of his neck.

J.D. rested his open palms on top of Garth's desk and leaned forward to look the other man right in the eye. "If you're so sure that there is no way your nephew could be our killer, then why make up some outlandish story about how the two cases might not be connected when you know d.a.m.n well that they are?"

Garth Hudson glared at J.D. "Go f.u.c.k yourself, Ca.s.s. You're way out of line."

Audrey had purposefully not mentioned Dawson c.u.mmings and had instead waited for Zoe to bring up the subject of the young man she had been bound and determined to date despite her father's objections.

"I think maybe J.D. was right about Dawson," Zoe said while sharing dinner with Audrey Thursday evening.

Without so much as batting an eyelash, Audrey asked, "How's that?"

"Well, he hasn't called me or tried to get in touch since he was arrested. And he hasn't answered any of my calls or text messages."

"And how does that make you feel?" Audrey asked.

Zoe laughed. "You sounded like a therapist just then and not a big sister."

"Sorry. Force of habit."