Just Jenny Read online

  From what I’d learned researching the town, the residents and shop owners went all out decorating the place at Christmas. I’d already decided I would make myself scarce when that happened. Christmas brought back too many dark memories. Last year I’d dealt with the ghost haunting me by staying drunk from Christmas Eve until the day after Christmas.

  Before I fell too deep into the memories, I pushed them away. I’d come here to start over, and Jenny was the first woman to catch my interest since…well, just since. At the sight of a drive-through, I pulled in, ordered two grilled chicken sandwiches and a large coffee. Dinner in hand, I continued my familiarization of the area, memorizing street names as I drove over curvy roads winding their way up the mountains. Someday, if I stayed here, I’d like to buy one of those log cabins nestled on the hillsides. I wondered if I’d passed Jenny’s house in my travels.

  Although I didn’t officially start my new job until Monday, I decided to stop by the station, see what was going on. Not much in a town like this, I figured, which after working the mean streets of Chicago for nine years suited me just fine since I was suffering from a severe case of burnout. I hoped that arresting someone for making moonshine was going to be the most exciting incident in my new career. Whether or not I’d get bored remained to be seen.

  The Blue Ridge Valley police station was about a tenth the size of my old precinct. Another thing I liked. As far as I was concerned, less was best. Parked in front of it, I studied the one-story building made of limestone blocks and sporting a blue tin roof, then turned my attention to the vehicles in the lot. There were six civilian cars and two police cruisers. Shouldn’t the cruisers be out on patrol? It occurred to me that not once had I passed a police car while touring the area.

  I’d not stopped in yet, so they wouldn’t know who I was unless they’d seen my picture in the local paper announcing my appointment as their new chief. This was going to be interesting.

  Under normal circumstances I would have come here for an interview with Jim John Jenkins, the mayor, and Buddy Ferguson, the town manager. They’d come to me instead, explaining that the captain of the department expected to get the chief’s job, but they felt it was time to bring in new blood. Strangely the town manager had appeared to be more on board with that idea than the mayor.

  Reading between the lines, I got the impression they wanted someone from a big-city police department with no ties to their corner of the world. “We’re looking for experience, forward thinking, and common sense,” Buddy Ferguson had said. “Someone who can bring tried and proven ideas to our police department.”

  It had sounded like their police department needed fixing, which was something I was good at. The mayor had told me during my interview that they’d narrowed the applicants down to three: me, a cop from Raleigh, North Carolina, and one from Dallas, Texas.

  Since they didn’t want their captain to know they were looking elsewhere until they made a decision, they’d come north, all bug-eyed when I’d taken them on a tour of my Chicago police precinct. My spidey senses said there was more to the story where my new captain was concerned.

  Truthfully, when I’d sent them my resume after seeing the opening posted on a site specializing in law enforcement positions, I hadn’t expected to hear back from them. But I did, and here I was. Now that I had the job, I looked forward to digging in.

  The photo announcing my appointment that ran in the paper here was of a younger, somewhat heavier me. I’d lost about twenty pounds in the last two years since Christine. That came from losing interest in food, but I was starting to find my taste buds again. To make this surprise visit interesting, I slipped on a ball cap and a pair of reading glasses. A glance in the rearview mirror told me that I didn’t look much like the photo.

  “Let’s go see what I’ve gotten myself into,” I murmured as I approached the door. It was a few minutes past ten, and I figured there’d be a shift change at eleven. Stepping inside, I stopped and scanned the empty lobby. Shouldn’t there be someone stationed at the counter?

  Laughter bellowed from down the hallway, and I followed the sound, noticing as I passed the counter that there were some files spread out on the desk behind it. I stopped, picked one up, and thumbed through it. It was the arrest record for one Hank Sands. The other files were the same, arrest records on various people. I glanced around again. Anyone could come in right now and walk off with these. As I’d suspected, I had my work cut out for me.

  Another burst of laughter had me continuing my search for the source. I took the files with me. At the first open door I came to, I peeked in. It was the dispatchers’ room, and one dispatcher sat with his back to me, the other desk empty. I listened to his conversation for a moment as he gave someone instructions to put ice on a swollen ankle, and then to call their doctor. It struck me how different that was from listening to a roomful of dispatchers in Chicago. That was definitely a welcome change.

  “Damn it, Moody, I know you’re fucking cheating.”

  The loud voice carried down the hallway, and I continued on my way. Before I reached my destination, I came to another open door and looked in. It was a good-sized room with about a dozen cubicles. All were empty except one where a blond man in his late thirties sat, flipping through a file. He looked up, studied me for a few seconds, then picked up a pair of glasses and put them on. From under a neat stack of folders he pulled out a newspaper, eyed it, then me.

  “Chief,” he said, standing.

  I awarded him three points, which put him three points ahead of the clowns down the hall making all the ruckus. “Detective Lanier,” I answered, and only got a miniscule tell from the slight widening of his eyes that he was surprised I knew his name. I’d done my homework and knew the names and faces of all my cops.

  He darted a glance at the wall. “We weren’t expecting you until Monday.”

  Obviously, considering the party going on in what I was pretty sure was my new office. I moved to his desk, perching on the end. “Working on anything interesting?”

  “An old cold case,” he said, sitting.

  Give my only detective another point. Unless they worked for a big department and were assigned that responsibility, cops didn’t have to dig into cold cases and most didn’t have the time. Since time issues didn’t seem to be a problem here, it appeared my detective was taking the initiative to keep himself occupied. I liked that.

  “Any new leads?”

  He shrugged as he removed his glasses and set them aside. Intelligent blue eyes met mine. “Not really, but something’s bugging me about this one. Just have to figure out what.”

  If something’s bothering a smart detective, someone needs to start worrying, namely the killer. “When I get settled, let’s go over it. Two minds are better than one and all that.” Another round of laughter and more swearing reached my ears. I glanced at the wall, wishing I could see through it and get my bearings before I descended on the ones starting off on the wrong foot with me.

  Lanier, apparently pretending not to hear them, said, “That would be great. Welcome, by the way.”

  “Thanks. Good to be here.” I turned my gaze back to him. “What am I going to find when I walk in there?”

  “A whole lot you’re not going to like. I think it’s time for me to be somewhere else.” He put his glasses into a case, opened his drawer and removed a set of keys, then stood. “You going to be around anymore before Monday?”

  “Maybe. Haven’t decided yet.”

  I followed him out, turning right when he turned left. As I neared the end of the hall, I inhaled the strong aroma of a cigar. Before going any further, I backtracked to the outside door to confirm that I had seen a NO SMOKING sign. I had. Still carrying the files I’d picked up, I headed for my prey.

  The next to last door I came to was marked as the interrogation room, and I walked past it. When I was able to see into the last room without entering, I stopped and observed four of my cops sitting around my desk playing poker. Captain Moody sat in my
chair, a fat cigar hanging from his mouth as he dealt cards with the expertise of a Vegas dealer. In front of each man but one was a tumbler filled with golden liquid.

  “We really shouldn’t be here,” said the one without a drink who I pegged as Tommy Evans, my youngest officer and newest to the department. “I heard the chief’s in town. What if he decides to come by?”

  I gave Tommy half a point, deciding there was hope for him.

  “Fuck the chief,” Moody said, balancing his cigar on the edge of my desk, then sucking up the last of his drink, which I guessed to be whiskey.

  It was time to rattle their cages. Changing my mind about playing games with them, I removed my ball cap and glasses.

  “Sorry, but you’re not my type, Moody.” I walked in, tempted to laugh when cards went flying from startled hands. Three of the men jumped to their feet, but one took his time setting his empty glass down, then picking up his cigar and clamping his teeth around it before rising. Belligerence glittered in his eyes.

  I decided on the spot that Moody’s employment was going to be short-term. “Gentlemen, I hope you enjoyed the fun because it’s the last time. Capisce?”

  Two of them nodded, and Tommy, snapping to attention, said, “Yes, sir.”

  Another half point to the kid. He was savable. I hadn’t made up my mind about the remaining two. “Who’s supposed to be out on patrol right now?”

  “Me, sir, but I was called in. They needed a fourth…” Tommy trailed off as Moody shot him a death glare.

  “What time’s your shift over?”

  “Eleven, sir.”

  I glanced at my watch. “You still have fifty minutes.” I looked at him and raised a brow. If he was as smart as I thought, he’d recognize the reprieve I’d given him.

  “Thank you, sir.” He shot out of the office like a dog with his ass on fire.

  Moody had stubbornly stayed on my side of the desk. The man was an idiot, and I didn’t have much patience with idiots. For the moment I ignored him, turning to the other two. “Woods, Jansen, what are the two of you supposed to be doing right now?”

  Woods, thirty-one and married, gave me a sheepish look. “I’m off duty. I promised my wife I’d be home by eleven.”

  “Looks like you’re gonna be able to keep that promise. Good-bye.”

  Although he didn’t move as fast as Tommy, he didn’t waste any time leaving. I gave him half a point. “Jansen?” I said, turning to the oldest man on my force.

  “I’m on the front desk until eleven, Chief.”

  “Could’ve fooled me. How long you been playing cards?” Billy Jansen was about fifty pounds overweight and had the waist of his uniform pants pushed down under his abundant stomach. I’d have to think about a training regimen for my cops.

  “About an hour.”

  “Then you’re on the desk until midnight.”

  He sucked in air as if breathing were a chore for him, which I imagined with his weight it was. “But I get off at eleven.”

  “That would have been true if you didn’t owe the department an hour.” I held up the folders. “Do you always leave confidential files out where anyone can get their hands on them?”

  He shared a look with Moody, which was his mistake because it got him no points. “Get outta here before I decide to keep you on the desk all night.” He left with the speed of a turtle. I deducted a point, putting him in the negative.

  When it was just me and the biggest problem I’d inherited with his job, I eyed Moody. “We can do this easy or we can do this hard. Which is it gonna be?”

  He didn’t pretend to not understand. “When all’s said and done, I’ll still be here and you won’t.”

  I shifted my gaze to the cards scattered over the desk and floor. “Since you’re a betting man, how much you want to wager on that?” The man didn’t give a shit that his new chief had caught him breaking every rule in the book.

  “You’re not worth the time of day, much less my money,” he said as he calmly reached under my desk, coming up with a bottle of Jack Daniel’s.

  I waited for him to reach the doorway. “The sign when you enter states this is a no-smoking building, Captain Moody. Lose the cigar.”

  I thought I heard him mutter “fuck you” under his breath. One of my first priorities would be finding out why Moody still had the honor of wearing a badge and gun.

  “That went well,” I said to the empty room. As I looked around, I realized I’d made my first mistake by not ordering them to clean up my office.

  A few minutes before eleven, I’d cleared out the mess and was getting ready to leave. I still had boxes to unpack at the apartment I’d rented, and since I never slept much, I could get a few done tonight. As I was walking down the hallway, I heard the dispatcher on duty say the name Jenny Nance. I didn’t know Red’s last name, and there was likely more than one Jenny in Blue Ridge Valley, but I still went into the room.

  “I’m the new chief. What’s going on?”

  The dispatcher glanced up at me, apparently took me at my word, and said, “Domestic dispute. Boyfriend’s refusing to leave.”

  “Find out if Tommy’s close to the station.” The dispatcher got on the radio and asked for Tommy’s location. He was only a few miles away. “Tell him to pick me up.”

  If it was my Jenny having a problem, I intended to be on the scene.

  3

  ~ Jenny ~

  “You’re making a scene, and you need to leave before my neighbors call the police.” I tried to jerk my arm away, but Chad had a tight grip on my wrist. “You’re hurting me.”

  “Who was the man at the bar?”

  “There were a lot of men at the bar tonight.” I knew exactly which man he meant, but his jealousy was making me angry. As expected, he’d been parked outside my apartment when I arrived. I’d almost kept driving. My best friend’s sofa was available to me anytime I wanted it. But Autumn’s fiancé lived with her now, and I didn’t want to intrude. Besides, no way was I going to let Chad run me away from my home.

  “Don’t think I didn’t see the way you looked at him, Jenn.”

  Well, I had done a double take, but so what? My mom and dad had a you-can-look policy, and I’d always believed that it was because they trusted each other and were secure in their love. With a man like Chad, that would never happen. Would, in fact, just get worse. I was done with him.

  “He was a customer, Chad. Of course I looked at him.” I huffed out a frustrated breath. “You’ve known from the beginning that I’m leaving in December, and that there would never be anything serious between us. You agreed to that.”

  “I changed my mind. And this idea of yours to take off for God knows where or how long is ridiculous.”

  “Well I haven’t changed my mind, and I could care less what you think.” I tried to pull my arm away again, but he held tight.

  Chad was a stockbroker in Asheville, and part of his attraction had been his claim that he was too focused on his job to get involved in a serious relationship. With his puppy-brown eyes and soft voice, my first impression of him had been that he had a gentle soul. Like I said, I’m obviously a lousy judge of men. Chad actually had the soul of a self-centered, controlling Neanderthal. And those soulful eyes that had charmed me in the beginning were starting to creep me out with the way he would sometimes stare at me, as if he owned me and needed to make me understand he was my lord and master.

  “Let. Go. Of. Me.” As soon as I could put some distance between us, I would tell him it was over. Again. I’d tried to get that through his thick skull as soon as I’d gotten out of my car, but he’d closed his ears to anything he didn’t want to hear.

  He slid his other hand up my arm. “Come on, baby, you know I love you.”

  When he tried to kiss me, I turned my face away. “No, you don’t, but it doesn’t matter. I want you gone, and don’t come back. Ever.”

  “That’s not how this works, Jenn. I say when it’s over.” He grabbed my hand, pulling me toward my apartment.r />
  He was starting to scare me with the way his eyes shone with barely concealed anger. I was sure my neighbors were already peeking through their blinds, and I hoped one of them had called the police. Deciding it was time to make a lot of noise, I dug in my heels.

  “Let go of me,” I yelled.

  A man came out from a few doors down. “There a problem here?”

  “No—”

  “Yes,” I said, speaking over Chad’s denial. “I want him to leave.” This was embarrassing, but I was grateful for the man’s appearance.

  “This doesn’t concern you.” Chad narrowed his eyes at me. “Unless he’s another one you’ve been flirting with. Are you screwing him, too?”

  Seriously? I needed to have a firm talk with myself about my boyfriend choices. “Who I’m screwing or not screwing is no longer any of your business.”

  “The lady wants you gone,” the man said.

  Chad dropped my arm and stepped toward my neighbor just as bright lights almost blinded my eyes and the sharp whoop whoop of a siren sounded. Everyone froze.

  “What’s the problem here,” a cop said after getting out of his car.

  “No problem, Officer,” Chad said.

  I glanced over, and seeing Tommy Evans, I backed up until I was close to him. “The problem is I want him to leave.” I pointed at Chad. “He refuses.” I’d never in my life witnessed or been involved in a domestic dispute, and I took a moment to be depressed that I could no longer say that.

  Chad the Idiot waved a hand at my neighbor. “That man assaulted me. I want him arrested.”

  Was he for real? Maybe he thought he could divert the attention from himself. “That’s my neighbor, Tommy, and he was only trying to help. He didn’t assault anyone.”

  “Name’s Bob Hagan. Now that the police are here, I’ll take myself off.”

  “Thank you, Bob,” I called to him. He raised a hand in acknowledgment as he walked away.

  Not knowing when to quit, Chad started arguing with the officer.