The Deadly Series Boxed Set Read online

  “Fine,” both she and Maddy answered.

  “Uh-huh. Well, I’m outta here. I’ve had enough for one day. Bar fights with college kids,” he muttered with a glance at the clock.

  “What?” Jesslyn asked, taking a swallow of her beer, the salty taste cool on her tongue.

  “Oh,” Maddy said, “he’s still pissed about the college kids who started a fight tonight.”

  “Flying chairs do not sit well with the family at the next table trying to eat their burgers and chicken strips,” Tim grumbled.

  Jesslyn could only imagine. Swallowing past the chuckle, she said, “How bad was it?”

  “Busted table, busted chair and I threw them out and called Garrison.”

  “And did our local Chief Tight Ass ride to the rescue?” she asked.

  He only glared at her. “Your sympathy is too much.”

  “Look at the bright side,” she told him. “It could always be worse. Could have burned the place down or something.”

  His smile was razor thin. “Your optimistic attitude is so refreshing and only reinforced with that cheery motto.”

  Maddy snorted. “Optimism and Jesslyn are not words that belong in the same vocabulary.”

  “True,” Tim added.

  “What is this? Pick on Jesslyn day?”

  “You’ve been gone.” He looked again at the clock. “And I’ve got to be going.”

  “Hot date?” she asked.

  “Will you lock up?” He pulled on his coat.

  “Who is she?” Maddy added.

  “Night, ladies,” he waved.

  “We’ll find out,” Jesslyn said.

  “Night, ladies.” The door swung shut.

  “We will!” she yelled.

  The muted thump of the back door echoed in the quiet bar.

  “Okay, spill it,” she told Maddy.

  Maddy was gathering her stuff up. “Nothing new, just problems with Kirk.”

  Kirk the Jerk.

  “Maddy, why don’t you ditch the guy? You could do so much better.” Kirk Roberts was not worth a woman’s time. He’d tried to make a pass at Jesslyn during the Octoberfest last year. It hadn’t been the last. The man had an ego problem and apparently lacked simple rudimentary listening skills. “No” seemed to be beyond his comprehension. Jesslyn hadn’t told Maddy because she didn’t want to hurt her friend. “He may be the president of Crested Butte Bank, but he doesn’t deserve you. He’s a womanizing prick and only wants you to complete his ‘perfect’ picture with the two kids he already has.” She took a drink, knowing this was old ground. Then asked, “Why do you think he has such a problem with you working here? It’s beneath him, tarnishes that ideal image he’s created.”

  Maddy held up a hand.

  “Sorry,” Jesslyn said. “I’ll keep my opinions to myself.”

  “Like I said, it’s nothing new.” Her sigh was heavy.

  There was something else. “So if it’s not Kirk, then what?”

  Maddy looked at her. “I got another bundle of lilies for my birthday.”

  “Oh.” For several weeks, Maddy had received lilies from someone. “Still no card?”

  “No, just the stupid things on my doorstep again.”

  At first they had laughed about it. A secret admirer. But now?

  “Did you tell anyone?”

  Maddy nodded. “Yeah, I told Kirk to stop sending them because I don’t like lilies and it was starting to creep me out.” She shrugged. “That’s when we started fighting again. He thinks I’m seeing someone else and it just got blown all out of shape.”

  Fine for him to boink his secretary at the teller bar and try for any other woman, but not for Maddy to get flowers. Figures. Jesslyn took another swallow of beer hoping this would really be the end of Maddy and Kirk’s on-again-off-again relationship. “Well, I don’t know what to tell you.”

  “What? No, ‘dump the dick’? Forget the creep? You’re better off without him?”

  She couldn’t hold in the grin. “As I said, you know my opinions where Kirk’s concerned. Want to come to my place and trash guys? I’ll make brownies.”

  Maddy smiled. “No thanks. I’m going home and soaking in the bathtub and don’t plan to get up till noon tomorrow.”

  Jesslyn hopped off the counter, poured the rest of her beer down the sink and threw the bottle in the glass bin. Together they walked out and locked up. The June night air was cold against her arms and she rubbed them, turning to Maddy.

  “You call me if you get any more of those flowers.” She reached over and gave her friend a hug.

  “I will. Promise. Something about the whole thing is just creepy.”

  • • •

  He watched them as they stood beneath the alley light. Both women by their vehicles. He wondered what they were talking about. Friends.

  After tonight there would only be one. He’d watched them through the window as they’d talked about something that seemed serious. The way they both frowned.

  Frown. Smile. Smile. Frown. It was too late—she’d already smiled at him.

  The shadows hid him from prying eyes, darkness closed in around him.

  He breathed deep and caught her faint scent on the breeze, perfume that always surrounded her. Spices and herbs, like a potion concocted by a witch.

  A witch, a whore. Both were the same as far as he was concerned. Red hair glinted in the dim lights from down the street.

  A cool breeze blew up the alley, chilling him.

  He watched as they hugged. Waited as one got in her vehicle, the engine rumbling to life in the quiet night.

  She turned and he could have sworn she looked straight at him. He gripped the knife, the handle smooth in his palm.

  Time. Right this moment was not the time. He knew where she was going. He would wait.

  Hurrying through the shadows, he slid through the darkness, scurrying back to his own vehicle. Starting it, he pulled out and down the street. Perfect.

  Only minutes later, he cut the lights. Quietly, so as not to awaken anyone, he shut the door. Hurry. He had to hurry.

  His shoes rustled through the underbrush of the woods. The sharp smell of pine tickled his nose.

  At the edge of the clearing, he realized he was gasping. Deep breaths. Deep breaths. It would all be over soon.

  Where had she gone? Her car wasn’t here.

  Headlights curved along the ground just in front of him.

  A smile creased his face as his heart began to pound. Sighing, he tucked the knife down by his thigh.

  Her car door clicked open and he hurried forward.

  Gravel crunched beneath his shoes.

  Her head turned towards him.

  “Hello? Who’s there?”

  “It’s just me.”

  • • •

  Jesslyn slammed on the brakes as a cyclist zoomed across her turnoff. Something in the backseat slid into the floor. Shit. She’d had her blinker on. Had the idiot just not paid attention? It was dark as pitch tonight. She could have mowed him down. Glancing back, she saw it was Maddy’s birthday present that had fallen into the floor.

  She’d forget her own head if it weren’t attached. For about a second she thought about waiting until the next day, but decided the stupid gift might cheer her friend. She’d gotten Maddy a singing marmot at a specialty shop in Denver. It was like the mechanical flowers with shades that burst into annoying songs whenever someone walked by. Maddy collected little figurines of the mountainous creatures so when Jesslyn saw this, she knew Maddy would like it. The furry marmot was dressed in a hot pink Speedo and sang “Hunka, Hunka Burning Love.”

  Jesslyn laughed. Yeah, Maddy would get a kick out of it. Looking both ways, she did a U-turn in the middle of the road. She headed back down the hill and then pulled off onto the dirt road leading to the small community of Meridian, with its properties scattered along the edge and slopes of Meridian Lake. It was only five minutes from either the historical town of Crested Butte nestled in the valley or Mount Cres
ted Butte Resort sprawling across the mountainside.

  Her cell phone shrilled, scaring her. God, her nerves. Who the hell was calling her after midnight? She flipped it open. “Hello?”

  “I should give you a ticket for that traffic violation.”

  Ah, Tinks. “But why waste your valuable time?” she asked, turning on her blinker and driving down Maddy’s road.

  Jesslyn smiled. T.J. Stephens was the only female police officer on the small local force and the other friend in their trio. With short dark hair and ice blue eyes, her friend was a no-nonsense, kick-ass woman with a gun. The image was totally ruined by T.J.’s fairy-like build and Minnie Mouse voice. Just for annoyance, Jesslyn called her Tinks. She’d actually lived to tell about it.

  “Where are you going? I thought you were still in Denver?” Tinks asked.

  “I was. Headed back early. I’m now—hang on.” She down-shifted, her engine grumbling, and turned into Maddy’s drive. “I’m at Maddy’s. We just left The Dime and I forgot to give her her birthday present.”

  “Well, better late than never.”

  She reached into the back floorboard and grabbed the gift sack. As Jesslyn got out of her pickup, she noticed Maddy’s car door was still open, light splashing along the ground, the repeating ping echoing in the night. “Hey, did she tell you about getting more lilies?”

  “No.”

  “Well, she did.” Maddy’s purse was lying on the ground. Jesslyn stopped.

  Goosebumps pricked her skin. “I think you might want to come over here,” she said into the phone, swallowing.

  “Why?”

  “I don’t know, something’s not right.”

  Jesslyn hurried forward, something urging her on. “Maddy!”

  No answer.

  “Jesslyn?” T.J. asked through the phone.

  She rounded the corner of the house, at the back deck. Her foot slipped on something and she looked down. A dark puddle of liquid gleamed in the moonlight.

  Some noise made her look up. The shadows shifted and a man ran at her. He knocked her aside, something slapping her in the face. As she slammed against the side of the house, the present slid from her hand.

  “Hey!” she yelled after him.

  His footsteps crunched across the gravel. She caught a blur of black clothing and a glint of something in his hand as he darted across the lawn and the beam of her headlights. He stopped, looked back at her. For one instant something dark reached across the space between them and iced through her veins. Then he grabbed up Maddy’s purse and scurried away. The edge of the forest swallowed him.

  “Jesslyn!” T.J. was yelling.

  Jesslyn realized she’d dropped her phone. She grabbed it up. “Yeah, I’m here. Some guy in black just tried to mow me down. Maddy!” she hollered.

  Again no answer.

  “Stay on the phone with me,” T.J. said.

  Jesslyn could hear the spit and static of the police radio in the background. That was when she noticed the smell.

  Sweet.

  Lilies.

  It filled her nose and her foot crunched a bloom.

  Lilies.

  Maddy!

  Jesslyn hurried up the steps of the deck. “Maddy!”

  A hand lay pale in the moonlight.

  Oh, God. No.

  She dropped to her knees, slid in liquid. She reached a hand out. “Maddy?”

  Jesslyn touched Maddy’s chest. When she jerked her hand back, she saw it was wet and sticky.

  Blood.

  No. Oh, no. “Maddy.”

  Sirens wailed across the lake.

  Think. Think. CPR. CPR. Oh, God.

  Carefully, she leaned over to see if Maddy was breathing. Her chest didn’t move. No air came from her open mouth. Jesslyn’s hand shook as she tried to find a pulse.

  There was no beat, no breath, no life.

  Please. No. Not again. God, not again. She couldn’t lose someone else.

  “Maddy. Maddy!” She pulled her friend’s head onto her lap and rocked.

  The coppery scent of blood filled her nose, laced with the sweet smell of lilies.

  Funeral flowers. Murder.

  It was the perfume of death.

  Chapter 2

  Dignity and death were not synonymous. At least that she could see. Or maybe it was just violent death, but dead was dead and it hardly mattered.

  Jesslyn didn’t move. Someone had thrown a blanket on her. She sat in the yard, in one of Maddy’s iron chairs, and watched as if in a dream.

  Bright lights illuminated the scene. Yellow tape marked off the perimeter of the yard, Maddy’s car, and the deck. A camera flash momentarily shifted the scene, as if someone blinked and things should have changed.

  But they didn’t.

  Red and blue lights rotated and flashed in the night from the police vehicles. People milled and shuffled about. Each was probably doing something important, but her mind couldn’t compute what it was. Neighbors stood behind the tape in the front yard. She could see them from here, in their robes, coats, gowns and pajamas. Couldn’t they bother to at least get dressed before they came to gawk?

  A shiver danced through her yet again. Jesslyn raised her hand, intent to bite at a nail, but stopped. Blood. There was still blood on her hands. Maddy’s blood.

  She closed her eyes, fisted her hands and fought for control.

  “Ms. Black.”

  She turned and looked at the Chief of Police, Derrick Garrison. “Garrison.”

  “I think we’re through here. Did you think of anything else to tell us?”

  They’d gone over everything time and time again. It was almost three in the morning. Not that she cared.

  “Through here?” she asked. Nothing would ever be through here. Death didn’t make things through. It just cut them off. Left them dangling and shattered lives. She ought to know after burying her husband and children. Death was never through.

  Garrison was young, in his thirties, she’d guess. Brown hair, brown eyes, and almost six feet tall. Or maybe he just seemed that way to her. At her stature everyone was tall. He might be handsome if one went for the seriously somber type.

  He squatted down in front of her, his nylon jacket with Chief on the back rustled. She looked over his shoulder and saw a man unfurl a long, black vinyl bag. Another strobe of a camera flash echoed across the darkness. One man unzipped the black bag and it ripped across the night, straight through her heart.

  Jesslyn swallowed and looked to the trees. Was he out there now?

  “I’ll have someone drive you home,” Garrison was saying.

  She licked her lips. “I can drive myself.”

  He shook his head. “I’m sure you can, but you won’t.” There was the flat yet edged voice she was used to from him. He stood. “I’ll come by in the morning to see if you remember anything else. You’ll be surprised what sometimes surfaces after some sleep.”

  Jesslyn shuddered. “Oh yeah, sleep is most definitely at the very top of my list.” She couldn’t think of anything worse.

  For a moment he said nothing, then, “You need me to call anyone?”

  Someone else had asked her that earlier, though she didn’t remember whom or when exactly. Everything blurred together.

  “Who?” she asked. “Maddy and T.J. are the only real friends I have here. Maddy’s . . .” Dead. “T.J. looks like she’s going to be busy for a while.”

  He looked over to where T.J. Stephens stood at the edge of the house talking to a man with Coroner on the back of his coat. Garrison rubbed a hand over the back of his neck. “Yeah, knowing Stephens, she probably will. Maybe you can talk her into staying the night at your place. You were both close to Maddy.”

  Jesslyn doubted she could talk T.J. into leaving this scene. “Did you find a magic wand lying around here somewhere? Tinks does what she wants to do.”

  His mouth twisted in a frowning smile.

  The man was being nice even though they hadn’t always gotten along. She’d used Garrison
as a source of research for one of her books and knew he thought of her as the flighty writer. The man was not shy in stating his true feelings about a person. But tonight, he gave her his undivided attention. And his concern, though she knew it was warranted, seemed to make the evening more surreal. He wasn’t acting right. Nothing was right.

  Jesslyn shook her head and looked away from his hard, whisky-colored eyes.

  She wanted to be alone. In her house. Where she could turn on the alarm system and not see police, crime scenes, and blood.

  “Will you at least ask her to stay with you?” he asked.

  What had they been talking about? Oh, yeah, Tinks.

  “Sure. Won’t mean she will. As I said, she’ll do what she wants to.”

  “Yeah, she does. Same as you. You going to be okay? I can call Tim, if you want.”

  Tim. She shook her head no. “I’ll be fine. I just need to get out of here.”

  For a moment he said nothing. “I’ll talk to Stephens, I’d rather she stay the night with you. You’ve seen this guy.”

  “I didn’t see enough of him.”

  “But he saw you and I’d rather not have to come to your house in the middle of the night under similar circumstances.”

  A shudder danced down her spine.

  Garrison continued. “Knowing Stephens, she’ll be hardheaded. Think I’m taking her out of the loop or something,” he mumbled more to himself than to her, his voice softer than she normally heard. He cleared his throat. “In any case, someone is staying at your place tonight.”

  “You make it sound like I’m in the middle of nowhere. And I don’t really like people around.”

  Garrison leveled a look at her, his eyes flat. “Madelyn Brooks was hardly isolated. And until I know for certain this was not just a mugging gone wrong, you’ll put up with people around.”

  The man had a point.

  Jesslyn stood. “Whatever. I don’t care right now. I just want to go home.”

  Again she looked out to the trees and wondered why, wondered who, and wondered if she could have stopped it if only she’d gotten here sooner.

  • • •

  He watched the goings-on with a sense of giddiness. Tonight had been entirely too close. The roped-off section of the driveway and front yard kept the curious at bay.