Dying To Play. Debra Webb

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      Callahan inclined his inordinately handsome head without a single perfect hair falling out of place. “But you said his general state of health likely indicated an unusually healthy lifestyle.”

      “True. But that doesn’t mean that he hadn’t started working too hard or carrying too heavy a stress load more recently.” Walt shrugged. “For that matter, anything’s possible where his mental state was concerned. There was no visible or chemical indication of disease, but he could very well have developed some sort of phobia or mental disorder recently. I can only tell you what I see, what toxicology suggests.”

      “Thank you.” Callahan walked out of the room.

      Elaine stared after him, bewildered.

      “I can’t read the man,” Walt said quietly, his attention focused on the door Callahan had exited. “What do you make of him, Detective?”

      “I’m still working on that one,” she admitted. “I’ll let you know.”

      Walt made a sound that broadcast his doubt. “I won’t hold my breath.”

      

      Elaine wasn’t holding hers, either. She thanked Walt once more and took her time catching up with Callahan.

      This morning when she’d arrived at her office he’d been waiting for her. He’d looked as spit and polished as ever. Charcoal-gray suit jacket over a white shirt and navy slacks. Clean shaven, hair looking as if he’d just stepped out of a salon. He’d shone like a freshly minted silver dollar. That is, if one didn’t look too closely. It had taken only one glance into those unnerving blue eyes to see the truth before he banished the telltale indication.

      Callahan was clinging to that edge he’d reportedly gone over two years ago, by the very tips of his fingers. Maybe he wanted or needed to get his professional life back together. His participation in this case might very well be about that more than anything else. Who knew? But one thing was astonishingly clear. He was barely hanging on. One wrong move could send him plummeting back into that private hell he’d apparently climbed out of far too recently for her comfort.

      Like Walt said, he was hard as hell to read, so her conclusions were more speculation than anything else. She needed the truth. She needed Callahan to come clean with her. But she didn’t see that happening in this lifetime.

      “Detective Jentzen!”

      Elaine hesitated at the main entry of the ME’s office and glanced back in the direction from which she’d come. Kathleen, Walt’s secretary, hurried along the corridor toward her.

      The smile that pushed into place was genuine. Kathleen was a truly nice lady. Elaine couldn’t help wondering again if the gossip about her and Walt was true. “Good morning,” she offered, having missed the loyal secretary when she first arrived that morning.

      Kathleen beamed. “You’re looking well,” she said to Elaine.

      It wasn’t until that precise moment that yesterday’s reality slammed into Elaine all over again. It was like waking from a nightmare only to realize the dream had been real. Endometriosis. Surgery. Probably no children. Who wanted a woman incapable of bearing children?

      Forty-eight hours ago a husband and children had been the farthest goals from her mind. Why was it that the abrupt idea that she might not be able to achieve either was suddenly so devastating?

      Elaine blinked. Reminded herself she had to call Dr. Bramm’s office today. “Thanks. You look terrific yourself.” Clearing her mind of the too personal, too unpleasant thoughts, Elaine focused on the older woman. She did look good. Damn good for a lady closer to seventy than sixty.

      Kathleen adopted a knowing expression. “Your mother called. Said she’d been trying to track you down all morning. Your office told her you were over here.”

      Elaine had set her cell to vibrate that morning so as not to be disturbed. “Thanks, Kathleen. I’ll call her right away.”

      “See that you do.” A secret smile stole across the woman’s lips. “I’d better get back to the office. Dr. Damron can’t find a thing without me. Have a nice day!”

      Elaine pushed out into the bright May morning and redirected her thoughts to the case. She’d call her mother when she had some privacy. Right now she had a few questions for Callahan.

      

      He waited by her Jeep. When he caught sight of her he slipped what was clearly an unlit cigarette back into his jacket pocket. The guy had definitely picked a bad time to quit smoking. She quashed the trickle of sympathy. He didn’t deserve her sympathy just yet. And as long as he played devil’s advocate at every opportunity on this case he wouldn’t earn her trust or respect, either.

      “What’s the deal, Callahan?” She walked up next to him and folded her arms over her chest, opting not to lean against her vehicle, since it still badly needed that washing and in part because she wanted him to see that she was annoyed.

      He lifted one shoulder in a negligent shrug. “What do you mean?”

      Okay, so she’d dismissed his every conclusion yesterday. Was he going to hold out on her today? If getting to her was his plan, he’d done a bang-up job so far. She didn’t like this. Didn’t like it one bit. Henshaw didn’t work this way; she didn’t work this way.

      “Tell me what you’re thinking.”

      That analyzing gaze locked on to hers then, sending a shiver down her spine despite her best efforts to resist the reaction.

      “Why?” he tossed back. “So you can pick apart my theories?”

      She shoved a handful of hair behind her ear and puffed out a lungful of frustration. “Look, this isn’t going to work.” She planted her hands on her hips and glared at him. “You’re supposed to be working with me not against me. Partners, remember?”

      That ghostlike smile that haunted one corner of his carnal mouth and got to her like nothing else could made an appearance. “And here I thought you’d forgotten our little deal.” The smile vanished and those piercing blue eyes turned ice-cold. “I’m not here to make you look good, Jentzen. And I’m damn sure not here to parlay theories for the learning experience or the moral support of the team. I want one thing and one thing only…to bring this guy down.”

      Fury detonated on a cellular level, sending tension radiating along every single nerve ending. So he’d spent the night deciding he wanted to play by his own rules. “By guy I assume you mean your old nemesis the Gamekeeper.”

      His jaw tightened visibly. “That’s right.”

      “Get in.”

      He looked surprised at her ferocious tone.

      “Where to, partner?” If his tone hadn’t been facetious enough, his expression left no doubt as to how he felt. He hated being stuck with her, having to bend to her wishes.

      “Just get in.”

      Elaine climbed behind the wheel of her Jeep, anger making her movements stiff. Without uttering another word she drove straight to the only place she could be certain of two things, they wouldn’t СКАЧАТЬ