Don't Cry Part 45
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"We've been working on a couple of leads, one concerning the car an eyewitness saw at the antique store where the last body was found," J.D. said. "And the other lead took us on a search for a boy named Corey Bennett, Regina Bennett's son and Cody Bennett's twin, who had been adopted twenty-three years ago." When Audrey's mouth fell open on a surprised gasp, he didn't pause, but kept talking, wanting to get it all out as quickly as possible. "Once we learned his ident.i.ty, we put him under surveillance, and last night, he led us straight to where he was keeping Somer Ellis, where he had kept and killed three other women."
Audrey's eyes widened, her gaze fixed to his, her breath caught in her throat.
"Honey...Audrey...d.a.m.n! Corey Bennett was adopted by Morris and Lynn Bryant when he was nine years old."
Audrey stared at him, her eyes expressing her thoughts. Puzzlement. Doubt. Disbelief. Reluctant acceptance. "Porter Bryant is the Rocking Chair Killer."
Chapter 36
A week later the test results came back from the DNA taken from the only toddler skeleton found in the church bas.e.m.e.nt. At first, no one could believe that the toddler was Shane Douglas and not Blake Sherrod. No one except J.D. Wayne Sherrod had demanded that the test be run again, but had finally been convinced of the accuracy of the original findings. A dozen different theories popped up as to why the Rocking Chair Killer had skipped Blake, the fourth missing toddler, and had placed the fifth toddler in the fourth victim's arms. And equally as many scenarios were batted about as to why there had been only five coffin-type boxes found and why there had been no sign of another toddler skeleton. But these and other questions concerning the old Baby Blue cases were swept aside, at least temporarily, while everyone involved with Porter Bryant's capture celebrated the confinement of a serial killer.
With Porter tucked neatly away in jail, awaiting trial-if he wasn't declared legally insane before then and placed in a mental inst.i.tution the way his biological mother had been-the CPD began tying up loose ends on the case. But for J.D., there were still too many loose ends on the Baby Blue cases for him to walk away without finding the answers.
When the DNA results identified the skeleton as Shane Douglas, he hadn't been quite as surprised as everyone else. His gut had warned him that something was off about the whole thing, that there had to be an explanation for why Porter had skipped Blake Sherrod and why there were only five coffin-type boxes in the church bas.e.m.e.nt. The truth had been right there in front of him all the time, and on a subconscious level he had known what it was even before he finally accepted the most logical explanation. There were only five boxes because there had been only five toddlers, including Cody Bennett. And Porter hadn't skipped over the fourth toddler because Shane Douglas was was the fourth toddler. the fourth toddler.
Regina Bennett had not kidnapped Blake Sherrod!
For the past few days since coming to terms with the obvious truth, J.D. had kept his opinion to himself. He needed time to dig deeper, to sift through the old files, to go over every sc.r.a.p of information and evidence from the Blake Sherrod file.
But for today, nearly two weeks after Porter Bryant's arrest, J.D. had put his search into the past on hold so that he could attend Shane Douglas's funeral, which was being covered by local, state, and national press. He had told himself that the only reason he was going to the funeral was to represent the TBI. But if he was totally honest with himself, he had to admit that the main reason was Audrey. He needed to be there for her. The past ten days had been difficult for her, and although he had seen her only a few times when he had gone by to check on Zoe, they hadn't really talked again since he had told her Porter was the Rocking Chair Killer.
He would never forget her reaction. To say she'd been startled would be an understatement. She had looked as if someone had hit her between the eyes with a two-by-four. And then, to his surprise, she had taken control of her emotions and quickly put up a cold, disciplined facade. No tears. No hysterics.
She should have fallen apart, should have ranted and raved and denied the possibility that a man she had dated for months could be a killer. In the past, he had occasionally seen the soft, emotional side of Audrey's personality and could only imagine the amount of strength it had taken for her not to fall to pieces.
Zoe had told him that she'd heard Audrey sobbing late at night, when she'd been alone in her bedroom. But J.D. suspected that those tears were not for Porter or even for herself. She'd been crying for her baby brother, still missing, his disappearance remaining an unsolved mystery.
Neither Hart Roberts nor Jeremy Arden had attended the church service for Shane Douglas, and neither came to the cemetery for the burial afterward. J.D. had halfway expected to see them both there. Tam had been there at Audrey's side during the funeral and even Garth showed up to pay his respects at the cemetery.
When J.D. walked up alongside Audrey at the gravesite, she didn't even glance at him, but she reached down between them and took his hand. Tam noticed; she shot a quick, hard glare his way. He understood Tam's concern and her silent warning. Audrey was her best friend and was extremely vulnerable right now.
Shane Douglas's mother, Grace, was flanked by Wayne Sherrod and her son, Lance. Weeping continuously and moving as if in a trance, Grace Douglas leaned heavily on Wayne, as she had done throughout the church service earlier.
The young minister spoke a few words at the cemetery, and when all was said and done, he issued an invitation to the small crowd of mourners.
"Grace would like for y'all to drop by her house this afternoon. Ladies from the church have prepared a meal for the family and friends."
As J.D. escorted Audrey and Tam to Tam's car, Audrey said, "I think I should go to Mrs. Douglas's home. Daddy will be there and-"
"I'm not sure that's such a good idea," Tam said. "Besides, I really need to get back to work and-"
"If you want to go, I'll take you," J.D. heard himself offer, the comment made from gut reaction and not through a logical thought process.
"Audrey, are you sure?" Tam asked, concern in her dark eyes.
"I'm sure." Audrey hugged Tam before turning to him and grasping his arm. "Thank you, J.D. I appreciate your offer."
During the drive from the cemetery to Grace Douglas's home, Audrey didn't say a word. Respecting her need for silence, J.D. remained quiet. A few cars and SUVs lined the side of the street in front of the Douglas house.
"Are you sure you want to do this?" J.D. asked her as he opened the pa.s.senger door and helped her from his Camaro. "Tam didn't think it was such a good idea."
"Daddy may need me," she said. "We thought we would be burying Blake, but instead..." She blew out a soft, sad breath. "Today has to be doubly difficult for my father."
An a.s.sortment of relatives and close friends who had come straight there from the church, skipping the burial, ate and talked and carried on various conversations. Audrey and J.D. introduced themselves to Grace's sister and brother-in-law as well as her son, Lance.
Someone had arranged a collection of photos depicting Shane Douglas from birth to thirty months old and displayed them on the dining room sideboard.
He had been a precious, rosy-cheeked blond cherub.
"He looks a little like Blake," Audrey whispered. "Only he was chubbier and his hair wasn't curly. Blake had curly hair."
J.D. draped his arm around her shoulders. "Let me take you home, honey. This isn't good for you."
"Soon," she told him. "I need to find Daddy first and make sure he's okay and see if he needs...anything."
J.D. knew she had been about to say "see if he needs me."
After declining an offer of food, Audrey and J.D. meandered through the crowd a.s.sembled inside Grace's home. When they reached the entrance to the hallway leading to the bedrooms, they saw Wayne Sherrod. He closed the door to the room at the end of the hall. A woman they had met earlier, Grace's cousin, came up to Wayne and said something to him.
"She's resting," Wayne told her. "She took more of the medication her doctor prescribed, so maybe she'll sleep for a while."
The woman nodded, patted Wayne's arm, and then returned to the living room.
When Wayne spotted Audrey, he stopped, the expression on his face devoid of emotion. Audrey pulled away from J.D. and approached her father.
"Daddy?" She gazed up at him with love and hope in her eyes, so obviously offering him comfort and sympathy.
"What are you doing here?" he asked, his voice cold and hard.
"I wanted to be here for you," she told him honestly. "I've been so worried about you. I've tried to call you several times. I thought maybe you'd stop by the house or at least call me." She reached out and placed her hand on his arm. "Is there anything I can do for you or for Mrs. Douglas?"
Wayne Sherrod withdrew from Audrey, detaching his arm from her comforting touch. "There's not a d.a.m.n thing you or anyone else can do." He walked past her and went into the kitchen without a backward glance.
Audrey looked as if her father had slapped her.
It took a great deal of self-control for J.D. not to follow Wayne Sherrod and knock the old fool on his a.s.s. But that was the last thing Audrey needed. Instead, he slipped his arm around her waist and said, "Come on, honey. I'm taking you home."
For most of her life, Audrey had prided herself on not needing anyone. And yet in the deepest recesses of her heart, she had secretly longed for something always just beyond her reach, had experienced that inexplicable yearning to love and be loved...to need and be needed in return. She had learned at an early age, after her mother died, not to depend on anyone except herself. And as the years went by, she came to accept that her role in life was to be that of a caretaker, both professionally and personally.
As she sat in J.D.'s car on the drive from Grace Douglas's home to downtown Chattanooga, Audrey told herself that she could deal with the pain inside her. It wasn't as if today was the first time her father had rejected her, but oddly enough, his insensitive dismissal of her, his absolute refusal to accept her comfort, had hurt Audrey more than at any other time in her adult life. Yes, as a child, she had wept bitter tears over his emotional abandonment of her, but as the years pa.s.sed and she matured, she had learned to accept what she couldn't change. But now as then, she had difficulty understanding why her own father didn't love her.
When J.D. pulled the Camaro to a stop in front of her town house, Audrey turned to him. "Thank you for bringing me home." She opened the door.
J.D. reached over and clutched her shoulder. "You shouldn't be alone. Let me park the car and I'll come inside with you and stay for a while."
She glanced back at him. "You don't have to do that. I'll be all right."
"With Zoe off on that school field trip for the next couple of days, you won't have a perky, pesky teenager to take your mind off everything that's happened. So why not let her aggravating, argumentative dad take her place, at least for this afternoon?"
"Don't you need to go back to work?"
Why am I trying to send him away when I so desperately want him to stay?
"I need an afternoon off," he told her. "Besides, it's past four now, so most of the afternoon is shot."
Audrey offered him a hesitant smile. "If you're sure...?"
"I'm sure. Invite me to stay for dinner, and I might be persuaded to prepare my specialty."
"Dare I ask what that is?"
"I make a superb BLT."
"In that case, please stay."
After J.D. parked the car, he escorted her up the steps and onto her porch. He took the keys from her unsteady hand and unlocked the front door. She removed her lightweight coat and hung it in the foyer closet. He followed her into the living room, took off his suit jacket, folded it, and laid it across the first chair he pa.s.sed; then he loosened his tie and undid the collar b.u.t.ton.
"Would you like something to drink?" she asked. "I have wine or-"
"Nothing right now," he said. "Let's save the wine to go with our sandwiches later."
"A gla.s.s of wine and a BLT. Hmm...interesting combination. I think I prefer a c.o.ke with my sandwich and then maybe wine with dessert."
"Then I'll look forward to dessert."
J.D. grinned at her and the bottom dropped out of her stomach.
"Why don't we sit down and talk," J.D. said. "Or if you just want to sit quietly for a while, we can do that."
"Sitting quietly sounds good."
After she eased down on the sofa, she removed her heels, set them aside, burrowed into the cus.h.i.+ons, and laid her head against the back of the sofa. J.D. sat beside her, removed his tie, folded it, and placed it on the coffee table. She felt a peculiar sense of comfort just having him there with her. Perhaps it was nothing more than being grateful not to be alone.
You don't really believe that, do you?
As they sat together in silence for several minutes, Audrey began to feel the tension in J.D.'s body, feel it as surely as if she was touching him. The relaxation she had envisioned them sharing had suddenly disappeared; instead the exact opposite was true. How could she possibly relax when some alien part of her longed for J.D. to hold her?
"I hope Zoe's having fun," Audrey said.
"Yeah, me, too."
"You two have come a long way in a short period of time."
"Mostly thanks to you."
Audrey smiled. "You've done your part, too."
"I've tried."
"That's a lot, you know. Trying."
"What happened?" When she looked at him as if she didn't comprehend his question, he added, "Between you and your father? The way he treated you today was unforgivable."
Audrey hugged her arms around her body and stared straight ahead, determined not to give in to her emotions as she so often did. "I'm not sure I know. He was never affectionate, not with me or with Hart, either. And even though he acted as if he thought the sun rose and set on Blake, I don't remember him hugging or kissing Blake, either."
"Some people just aren't able to express the way they feel, not in words, and not by being affectionate."
"I understand that now, even though it's difficult for a child to accept." Audrey closed her eyes. "I suppose he was a good father, in his own way. He never spanked me or Hart. He provided for us. He spent far more time at home with his family after Blake was born. And he was good to Enid, and I'm sure that wasn't always easy. Although her problems were never actually diagnosed, looking back, it's obvious that she had terrible emotional problems."
"It must have been rough for you and for Hart and your father when she killed herself."
"You have no idea." Audrey opened her eyes and looked at J.D. "It was as if our family was living inside a nightmare that just wouldn't end. First Blake disappeared and then Enid committed suicide and my father...I don't know what we would have done if Geraldine and Willie hadn't stepped in and looked after Hart and me. And Garth...Uncle Garth handled everything. There were weeks when we didn't see Daddy at all, and then when we did, he seemed like a stranger."
"You'd have thought that eventually he would have reached out to you. He might have lost his son, but he still had a daughter...a daughter who needed him."
Audrey clenched her teeth tightly. I will not cry. I will not cry. I will not cry. I will not cry.
Suddenly, while she was trying so hard to hold herself together, J.D. closed the distance between them, put his arms around her, and pulled her into a comforting embrace. As if responding to him was the most natural thing in the world, she wrapped her arms around his waist and laid her head against his shoulder. He leaned over just enough so that his chin brushed against her cheek.
She couldn't explain why she suddenly felt so safe, why it seemed that as long as J.D. held her, nothing and no one could ever hurt her again. Such a foolish thought, such an illogical feeling.
He splayed his hand across the center of her back and caressed her from neck to waist, his touch unbearably gentle. She relaxed against him, giving herself over completely to the pleasure of being in his arms. Warm, salty tears streaked her cheeks and spilled over her lips. The anger and pain and soul-deep hurt she had been holding inside for days on end poured out of her as she clung to J.D. Sobbing, moaning, holding nothing back, she allowed herself the much-needed emotional release she had been denying herself. And all the while, J.D. simply held her, stroked her, nuzzled her tenderly. How long he held her while she cried, she wasn't sure. All she knew was that when cleansing relief washed over her and she lifted her head to look into his eyes, she realized she wanted him.
"Audrey?" He whispered her name.
"Yes." Just one word, but that was all he needed in answer to his unspoken question.
He lowered his head until his mouth reached hers. She held her breath, antic.i.p.ation spiraling through her. His lips brushed across hers, both eagerness and hesitation in the touch. She understood he was giving her one last chance to change her mind and that the next move was up to her. Overwhelmed by his restraint in allowing her the power to take what she wanted, what she needed, Audrey circled his lips with the tip of her tongue.
J.D. groaned, the sound coming from deep in his chest. "Be sure this is what you want." He grabbed her upper arms and pressed her down onto the sofa cus.h.i.+ons. "If you don't stop me now, there won't be any turning back." He hovered over her, his hot gaze boring into her as he waited for her response.
She tried to speak, but couldn't force the words from her throat. Staring up at him, her mouth opening, her body trembling beneath him, she pulled one arm free of his tight grip and lifted her hand to his face. Her fingers traced the same path that her lips had made only moments before, pausing to dip one finger into the moist interior of his mouth.
J.D. sucked her finger in and Audrey panted as she eased her finger from his mouth. Visibly shaken, he drew in a deep breath and released it on a ragged groan before he kissed her. As his mouth covered hers, she felt him s.h.i.+ft his weight and insert his knee between her thighs, effectively parting her legs. The kiss went on and on, robbing her of breath and all coherent thought. By the time he reached beneath her, unzipped her dress, and pulled it down to her waist, she had unb.u.t.toned his s.h.i.+rt and yanked it loose from his pants. He kissed, licked, and nipped her throat and shoulder and blazed a trail down to the lace cups of her bra. While he effectively undid the back hook and deftly freed her b.r.e.a.s.t.s, she raked his back with her fingers, loving the feel of his hard muscles and masculine heat.
The moment his tongue flicked across one tight nipple, she whimpered and lifted her body up and into his erection.
Don't Cry Part 45
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Don't Cry Part 45 summary
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