Elusive Identities: Cowboy Justice Association (Serials and Stalkers Book 1) Read online

  "Now that I've fed you, what am I going to have?"

  Having never been much of a cook, Ella had a wide variety of takeout menus by the phone. She perused the offerings while Merc daintily ate his dinner, and finally settled on Chinese. She loved the honey chicken. With forty minutes before it would arrive, she had plenty of time for a long, hot shower.

  The master bedroom had huge windows that overlooked the city, an amazing view that never ceased to catch her attention, especially at night. Maybe it was the journalist inside of her that wondered what was going on behind those lighted windows. Were the inhabitants happy? Sad? Angry? What were they hiding? She'd learned as a reporter that people had secrets. Painful and dangerous ones to go along with the simple and innocuous. Secrets ate away like termites in the darkness. Eventually the structure of a human's life was weakened and it would all collapse on itself. Sadly, she'd seen it happen too many times.

  Mom would say that I'm nosy.

  Mom would be right.

  Shedding her clothes on the way to the ensuite bathroom, she showered and pulled on a pair of ratty sweats and sweatshirt, piling her hair on top of her head to get it out of the way. The humidity always made her hair curl and most of the time she didn't care but she was already annoyed tonight.

  She liked the news station, but perhaps she might do better to look for another job? A different station might give her more responsibility.

  Right. Because journalism is flourishing and jobs grow on trees. Not.

  A knock on the door announced her dinner and she greeted the familiar delivery guy, making sure to give him a generous tip. It was kind of embarrassing that he knew her by her first name and even asked about her job and the cat. When she was dating she often tried to cook but it never turned out well. Her last relationship had been over a year ago. Mark had been frustrated with all the hours she worked and he'd also been vocal that she wasn't more...domestic. She didn't like to cook or clean and that was a major issue for him. They'd parted less than amicably. After that she'd decided to concentrate on her career for awhile.

  It meant some long lonely nights but she consoled herself with the fact that it was better to be alone than with the wrong person.

  "At least that's what I'd say if anyone asked me," Ella said to Merc when he jumped up on the couch next to her. She was lounging and watching television, an activity that she did far too often these days. She needed to get her ass in gear and go to the gym, get outside and do something instead of sitting like a bump on a log. "I'm just taking a breather from dating. I'll get back into it before long. I'm just fine the way I am. Right, Merc?"

  The cat meowed loudly as if to agree, rubbing his head against her shoulder. She didn't need anything more than this. Great takeout, a borrowed cat, and comfy clothes. Life was good and peaceful.

  Chris had a bad habit of falling asleep on the couch in front of the television. He had a perfectly decent bed in the other room but for some reason he fell asleep more quickly out here in the living room. Perhaps because there were voices and it gave the illusion that he wasn't alone? Or maybe because he was simply too fucking tired most nights to get his ass up off the couch and go to bed. Either way he'd done it again tonight.

  Stretching and yawning, he swung his legs onto the floor so he could crawl into the bedroom and spend what was left of the night in bed. He reached for the remote to turn off the television but his hand froze in midair. There on the news was a pretty young reporter with big eyes and long dark hair.

  The spitting image of the forensic rendering he'd studied earlier tonight.

  Shaking his head a few times and blinking back the fatigue, he rubbed his eyes but the woman on the television didn't disappear. She was standing there speaking into a microphone but she couldn't have anything to do with his victim.

  His sluggish brain didn't do math well but even he couldn't mess this simple calculation up. The reporter couldn't be over thirty - if that - and his victim had been gone that long. No, this was simply a coincidence, possibly fueled by his exhaustion.

  He clicked the off button and the television went dark, along with the lovely reporter. He wanted so much to find his Jane Doe that he was now superimposing her face onto other women.

  That was surely a sign that he wasn't getting enough sleep. Time to go to bed.

  3

  The next morning - after getting a decent amount of sleep - Chris took Annie to her dance lessons, trying to put his cold case out of his mind. Since he didn't get to spend as much time with his daughter as he liked, he wanted to enjoy when he was, and that didn't include brooding about work.

  Or reporters, either. This morning he'd decided that he'd been imagining things. But just in case, he'd check out the television station's website later on when he had the time.

  "I get to wear a purple sparkly outfit," Annie gushed right after class. Stacey and Ben were at the dance studio to pick her up as she was attending a birthday party in the afternoon. There was going to be a bouncy castle and lots of cake. Annie had been talking about it all morning. "Purple is my favorite color."

  Last month it had been green but Chris appreciated that Annie didn't feel the need to be held to only one favorite. Everyone should have as many as they wanted.

  "That's wonderful, sweetheart," Stacey said, giving their daughter a hug. "Why don't you get your water bottle from Ben, okay? I need to talk to your dad."

  Shit. This couldn't be good. The last time Stacey had wanted to speak to him privately she'd told him she was moving and getting married.

  Annie skipped off happily, leaving Chris with his ex-wife. More and more this was becoming awkward as hell. Because he hadn't remarried, Stacey had taken to giving him pitying looks and heaped less than subtle hints about getting out more and meeting people.

  Yes, they had that weird of a divorce. They didn't hate each other. They'd simply married far too young. His drinking and subsequent sobriety hadn't been the issue that had eventually broken them up. They'd grown apart until they were almost strangers. No more, no less. Chris would have stuck it out and tried to repair the relationship but by then Stacey had reconnected with her old boyfriend online. They'd ended things as friendly as possible for Annie. So far, they'd done an okay job.

  He checked his watch, hoping she'd take the hint. "I have to meet Knox at a crime scene. Will this take long?"

  Stacey sighed and glanced over her shoulder to where Annie was speaking animatedly to her stepfather.

  "It won't take long but it is important. Why are you working on a Saturday, anyway?"

  "Cops work seven days a week. You should know that."

  Stacey hadn't been a fan of the crazy hours demanded of an officer. She'd taken after his mother like that.

  "You're not a cop anymore."

  "You're right. I'm a law enforcement consultant so I really can't sit around. I have a case that I need to work on."

  He'd made it sound urgent even though his victim had been waiting thirty years. He didn't want her to wait a moment more than necessary.

  "Then I'll make this quick." She hesitated, her fingers rubbing her chin. A sure sign that she was nervous. "I'm not sure how to tell you this."

  "Jesus, are you moving again? I'll fight it this time, Stacey."

  He hadn't raised a fuss the last time because she'd promised him visitation whenever he'd wanted it and she'd stuck to that. But he'd just taken this new job to be closer to his daughter and he wasn't going to be jerked around about it.

  She quickly shook her head. "No. No, not at all."

  "Then spit it out."

  She'd always done things in her own time.

  Another sigh. "I didn't want you to hear it from Annalise so I need to tell you now. I'm pregnant."

  He blinked a few times, his brain playing the words over in his head until he was sure there was no mistake in his comprehension. Stacey was pregnant.

  "That's great," he finally said, the shock wearing off. He shouldn't have been surprised. Stacey had always w
anted more children. "I'm really happy for you. Congratulations to you both."

  "Thank you." She was eyeing him up and down like he was a live grenade. "Are you sure you're okay with this?"

  Her question made him laugh. "Would it matter if I wasn't? I'm okay with it. Seriously. I'm happy for you."

  "It's just that you have no one–"

  "I'm happy," he cut in. "For real. I'm concentrating on my career right now. I don't have time for a relationship. Maybe when I get settled in."

  "You wouldn't have trouble finding someone. You're not bad to look at and all."

  "Thank you. I think. My goal in life has always been to be not too hideous."

  She rolled her eyes just like Annie did. "You're not hideous and you know it. The fact is you are far too good-looking. I just didn't want your ego to get too big."

  "Because I'm an arrogant SOB?"

  "Yes."

  She'd know.

  He nodded toward Annie. "Has she heard the good news?"

  "We're going to tell her tonight. We had a scan yesterday and everything looks good."

  "She'll be happy. I think she'd like a little brother or sister."

  Stacey smiled and patted her stomach. "She'll have to wait six more months but I agree. She'll be a terrific big sister."

  Annie joined them, her pink backpack slung over her shoulder. "Mom, can we have pizza tonight?"

  "We sure can," Stacey agreed. "Lots of extra cheese."

  Ben nodded and Chris nodded back. That was about the extent of their relationship and it seemed to work fine so far. He would have congratulated him and shaken his hand but Annie hadn't heard the news yet.

  Chris knelt down and gave her a hug. She was growing so fast. "I'll see you on Tuesday. Be good for your mom. Love you, baby girl."

  Annie hugged him back and dropped a peck on his cheek. "Love you, Dad. Good luck on your new job."

  He was going to need it. Working with Knox Owens was going to be a real pain in the ass.

  "Do you have the weekend off?" Dana Scott asked. Ella had stopped in to say hello to her parents and had ended up staying for lunch. "We should go shopping today. I've been needing a new handbag and we haven't spent a Saturday together in forever."

  Ella had to smother a chuckle at her mother's declaration. Dana Scott had a closet full of purses, shoes, and clothes. She didn't need to buy anything else for the rest of her life. She had garments and accessories for every occasion and then some.

  As for how long it had been since they'd hung out together, it hadn't quite been forever but it had been too long. As an only child, Ella was close to her parents and liked spending time with them.

  "You just want to try that new little bistro, Mom. Admit it."

  "I wouldn't mind but what we really need to do is get you some new clothes. Those jeans have holes in them."

  Ella grinned wickedly. "And I paid extra for that, I'll have you know. Besides, I love these jeans. They're my favorite."

  Her mother sniffed but gave in gracefully.

  "I saw your story last night. You did a good job."

  Dana would have said that even if Ella had dropped her microphone, peed her pants, and cried in front of the camera.

  "It was just a lousy story about a bridal show," Ella groused. "Nothing important. Tomorrow I'm covering a dog show."

  "You love dogs."

  "That doesn't mean I want to spend all day interviewing them. I need something important, a story that can change lives."

  "Be careful what you wish for, sweetheart."

  "You always say that," Ella sighed, taking a sip of iced tea. "But seriously, what bad thing can happen if I get a great story to cover?"

  Her mother's brows rose almost to her hairline. "You could be killed or even just injured. That's been known to happen, you know. Journalists who find out the wrong things about the wrong person. I don't want you in any danger."

  "The vast majority of reporters don't have death threats, Mom. They live completely quiet and uneventful lives reporting on the exciting events that happen to other people."

  "When you say it like that, it makes me think that you picked the wrong profession," Dana laughed. "You could have gone to law school, for example."

  "I could have but then I'd have to gouge my eyes out because I hated myself."

  "Always so dramatic," Dana chided. "You've been like that since you were a toddler. Everything was an emergency, even getting a cup of juice."

  "I don't think I'm that dramatic."

  "I'm sure you don't but you are. You like being in the thick of things. No shame in that—it just makes a mother worry about her little girl."

  "I haven't been a little girl in a long time. I'm thirty-two, remember?"

  Dana pushed the small plate of cookies toward Ella. "How could I forget? I'm your mother. Now have a cookie. I baked them yesterday. The secret is a little orange peel in the batter."

  Ella's mother had taken up baking after watching that British baking show. So far she'd perfected cakes and cookies but bread was still a work in progress.

  Ella bit into the chocolate cookie. Her mother was right. They were delicious.

  "These are amazing. I really should learn to cook something."

  Someday.

  "You could do it if you really wanted to. I think you like ordering takeout."

  "It makes the cleanup easier."

  It wasn't as great for her waistline.

  Dana Scott went quiet, simply sipping her own iced tea. Ella was familiar with this tactic, though.

  "Was there something you wanted to say, Mom?"

  "Well...since you asked," Dana said with a growing smile. "Your father is getting an award from a local charity. They're going to have a party to honor him and a few others as well. I was hoping you'd be there."

  "Of course I'll be there. Why wouldn't I be?"

  Looking down at her hands, Dana chewed on her lower lip. "I know that your career is important to you and we want to support that, but the party is on a Saturday night. Your dad knows that you work most weekends–"

  "I'll be there," Ella interrupted. "You couldn't keep me away. I'll just talk to Galen. He's not going to be sending me to any important breaking news anyway so he won't care."

  The last part was muttered under her breath but Dana seemed to get the gist.

  "That's wonderful, sweetheart. Your father is going to be so thrilled to see you there. He's always telling our friends about his daughter the reporter. He's going to want to show you off a little bit."

  Dad had been doing that for as long as Ella could remember. It was embarrassing as hell but so sweet.

  "Just send me the date and the dress code. I'm there," Ella vowed, biting into another cookie. These were really good. "There isn't anything I wouldn't do for you and Dad."

  "We couldn't have picked a better daughter." Tears sparkled in Dana's eyes, making Ella's throat close up with emotion. "We're so proud of you and all that you've accomplished."

  "I couldn't have picked better parents, either."

  "Then we're both lucky," Dana laughed.

  Yes, Ella was a lucky woman to have Dana and Will Scott as parents, and she'd never take that for granted.

  4

  "You're late."

  Those were the two words that greeted Chris when he arrived at the dump site for his Jane Doe. Located on the side of a busy highway, it didn't appear to be the ideal spot to place a dead body.

  Chris checked his watch and then glared at his former and new co-worker Knox Owens. "Two minutes. The traffic was bad. How long have you been here?"

  "Two minutes."

  "Next time I'll just interrupt my daughter in the middle of a sentence so you're not put out for even a second."

  And fuck you and the horse you rode in on.

  "How is Annie?"

  What did Knox care? They were there to do a job and they were being forced to do it together.

  "Fine," he replied shortly. "Growing up."

  "How old is
she now?"

  "Nine."

  Knox grinned and chuckled. "I remember when you brought her into the station house. She was...maybe three? She wanted to take those old cats that lived in the back room home."

  Chris had vivid memories of that day and he couldn't suppress a smile, either. Those two cats had shown up one day and Jared had taken them in, giving them a place to sleep out of the elements and feeding them top shelf cat food. The two felines had grown fat and lazy.

  "Crockett and Tubbs. Jared gave them their names. Shit, I don't even think they were male. Annie threw a fit when I wouldn't let her take them home. I tried to explain that they belonged to all the guys that worked there but she wouldn't listen. She cried all the way home and until bedtime. She called me mean."

  "If you're a decent father it won't be the last time she's pissed at you."

  Still irritated, Chris shrugged. "This little trip down memory lane has been fun but we're here to work."

  Knox's smile didn't waver. "Then let's get to it. Do you have the file?"

  Chris almost bit out that he did, indeed, have the file because he wasn't a fucking idiot who would come to a crime scene without it...but then he remembered that they were being evaluated as to how well they could work as a team. He'd told Logan that this wouldn't be an issue and he didn't want that statement to be a lie.

  Chris held up the file, far too thin for a murder investigation, and handed it to Knox. "I have it. This was the dump site, apparently. They don't think she was murdered here."

  Knox paged through the file, his smile gone and replaced with an ever-deepening scowl.

  "Fuck, they don't know shit about this murder. There's nothing here."

  That was true. The file contained little information. A diagram of the dump site, a pathology report from the coroner, a police report from the investigator, photos, and a statement from the man who had found the body. The only thing new was the forensic rendering of the victim's face.