Sudden Engagement. Julie Miller

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СКАЧАТЬ year, finally losing her father to an overworked heart, though emotionally, she’d lost him years earlier. Her parents had never been the same after Amy’s senseless murder. Ginny was a grown woman now—no grief-stricken teen, no rebellious coed—a mature career woman of thirty.

      She’d willingly given up her scholarship to study art in Europe and enrolled in the justice studies program at Central Missouri State University in nearby Warrensburg. She’d taken care of her father, and now she took care of Kansas City, Missouri, too.

      She sought justice for the innocent victims like her sister. Like her mother and father. And like that poor man this afternoon, buried alive and left to die.

      Like a family reunion of battle-scarred survivors, she and John now met at the start of every new case. Each time, he waited patiently to drive her to her car at the front gates. And each time, she made the same promise to her sister and parents.

      She spread her palm flat over the cold granite that bore her family’s names and recited her vow. “I’ll find out who did this to us. There will be justice for the Raffertys.”

      She curled her fingertips into the grooves cut deep into the stone.

      “I promise.”

      Ginny headed down the hill toward the road. Her charcoal-gray chinos, damp from a day’s worth of rain, stuck to her legs like a second skin and chilled her. The warmth of John’s truck sounded pretty inviting right about now. She really ought to make an effort to cultivate his friendship. He’d always been so kind. But she’d never been very good at that sort of thing. Making friends had always been Amy’s forte. Some day soon—tonight, maybe—she’d overlook her insecurities and take him out to dinner.

      Well, maybe not tonight. A telltale chirping vibrated at her hip. Stopping beside the road, she pulled out her cell phone and flipped it open.

      “Detective Rafferty.”

      “Yeah, Gin. It’s Merle.” She turned her face away from the phone to mask her weary sigh. She and her partner had been on the clock since eight that morning. How could he still sound energetic nearly eleven hours later?

      “What’s up?” she asked.

      “I got a name on that murder at the Ludlow you asked about. Back in 1989. An eighteen-year-old kid named Mark Bishop.”

      That’s not the first dead body I’ve seen at the Ludlow Arms.

      Ginny’s own energy kicked up a notch. “Was that case solved?”

      Merle spoke as if he was reading the information straight off his computer screen. “History of family violence. Died from a blow to the head. The death was attributed to his father, Alvin Bishop. Neighborhood bully. He had a record of abuse and neglect with Social Services, and a string of minor convictions. Everything from drunk and disorderly to assault on the garbage collector.”

      “But no charges were filed?” She sensed more unfinished business.

      “A warrant was issued for the father’s arrest. But he disappeared before his arraignment. Listed as a missing person ever since.”

      “So justice was never served.” Either pieces of the puzzle were beginning to fall into place, or she’d opened a box with more pieces than she could count. That body at the morgue could be Alvin Bishop. “Get Mac Taylor at forensics on the line. Tell him to run Bishop’s name through as a possible ID on our John Doe.”

      “Will do.”

      “Anything else?”

      “Yeah.” A twinge of frustration colored his voice. “The statements I took from those two homeless guys, Zeke Jones and Charlie Adkins, are useless.”

      His frustration just became hers, too. “They didn’t see anything?”

      “Who knows? Charlie said nothing, just sat there staring at me. Zeke kept spouting off his name, rank and serial number. I thought I was in the twilight zone.”

      Sometimes, witnesses saw a male detective as a threatening presence, and were more apt to open up to a female. She hoped that, and not one of the mental disorders that affected some homeless people, was the case with these guys. “I’ll give it a shot tomorrow.”

      “Thanks. I’ll get you the address for the shelter where I sent them.” She was just about to hang up when she heard Merle call her name. “Hey, Gin?”

      She put the phone back to her ear. “Yeah?”

      “You have dinner plans?” Ginny rolled her eyes heavenward at the sincere catch in his voice.

      She pictured his sweet, unlined face and the gradual aging she saw day by day in his dark green eyes. This wasn’t the first time he’d asked her out. It wouldn’t be the first time she said no, either. “You know how I feel about going out with the men I work with.”

      His voice rushed over the line. “Hey, no. I’m your partner, I’m just worried about you. We missed lunch, remember?”

      “I remember.” She forced a smile, as if he could see her relief. “I’ll get something to eat, don’t worry. You get out of that office, too, okay?”

      “I will.”

      “Good night, Merle.”

      “’Night, Gin.”

      She hung up and dug inside another pocket for a specific slip of paper. A business card. Taylor Construction, Brett Taylor, Owner.

      She looked at the card and pictured the man. Big. Rugged. Smart-mouthed. “Do you always show up when there’s a dead body in the neighborhood?” she asked the image.

      Memorizing the number, she hurried to John’s truck and dialed before climbing in.

      John spared her an indulgent smile before putting the truck in gear. “Duty calls, I take it.”

      She nodded through the unanswered rings. “I’ve got an opportunity to ask a few questions I shouldn’t put off.”

      He wound through the hairpin turns toward the cemetery’s front gates. “One of these days I want you to tell me you’re in a hurry to meet a young man.”

      She smiled. “John, you sound just like my dad.”

      An answering machine picked up. Brett himself had left the recording. Even across transmitted miles of a recorded message, Brett’s basso profundo voice reverberated through her like a mellow jazz tune, at once enervating and intriguing her.

      She asked him to call her cell number and then hung up.

      “Just like that.” John’s amused voice captured her attention.

      “What?”

      He shook a gentle finger at her. “The look on your face when you talked to that man. That’s the look that tells me you’ve got a social life.”

      Ginny frowned. “I talked to his machine.”

      He pulled up behind her car and put the truck in Park. “But you’re wishing СКАЧАТЬ