couple of tasteful pieces of secondhand art purchased at the most recent fundraiser Dan’s mother hosted.
“Did you get your office squared away?”
“I did.” Jess braced a hand on her hip and ignored the ache that had started in her lower back. She’d certainly overdone it today. “I was about to call it a day.”
Buddy glanced at her round belly and smiled. “I can’t wait until Sylvia actually looks pregnant.” As hard as it was to believe, Buddy and Sylvia, Jefferson County’s medical examiner and the daughter of one of Birmingham’s old money families, had married and were now expecting a child.
Jess and Buddy had grown up on the not-so-appealing side of Birmingham and somehow they’d both managed to do okay. Jess had spent most of her law enforcement career with the FBI, first as a field agent and then as a profiler. Just over two years ago she had returned to Birmingham and started a new career with Birmingham PD as deputy chief of Major Crimes. After twenty years separated by their careers and geography, she’d married her high school sweetheart, Daniel Burnett, the chief of police.
Buddy’s life had taken a somewhat less direct route to where they were now. A womanizing rebel in high school, he’d ended up spending a tour of duty in the military right out of high school to avoid trouble with the law. Later, several years as a BPD cop and then a detective had ended on a bit of a sour note. Buddy, however, being Buddy, had bounced back. He’d opened a small private investigation shop and done well. Falling for and marrying Sylvia had changed the man as nothing else could have. He could not wait to be a daddy. The change left a large portion of Birmingham’s female population bemoaning the loss.
“Don’t worry,” Jess assured him, “that will happen soon enough.” She suspected her old friend didn’t have a clue what he was in for. Sylvia would ensure Buddy suffered every moment of discomfort she endured for the next several months.
The bell over the door tinkled again. Jess turned as Clint Hayes strolled in, a box under one arm and a briefcase in his hand. Clint had been a member of Jess’s BPD major crimes team. He’d asked if he might come onboard at B&C Investigations when Jess first announced she was leaving the department. She hadn’t been able to deny that having an investigator with a law degree as well as several years as a detective under his belt was attractive. No matter, she had discussed the idea with Dan before acting on Clint’s request. He had a right to know one of his detectives was considering making the move with her. Dan had been so glad Jess was leaving police work behind, he’d been only too happy to see Clint go with her. That he was handsome and dressed impeccably wouldn’t hurt, either.
“I cleaned out my desk at the department,” Clint announced in greeting. “I thought I’d get settled here.”
Buddy clapped him on the back. “Glad to have you, Hayes.”
“We’ve set up several desks in the large office at the end of the hall,” Jess explained. She and Buddy had taken the two smaller offices. The larger one would allow for several investigators to share the space. A third smaller office would serve as a conference space for meeting with clients. Closer to the lobby was a tiny kitchenette with a narrow hall to the only bathroom and a rear exit. “Take your pick.”
“Just like old times.” Clint flashed Jess a grin and headed that way. Buddy followed, filling him in on the open house planned for a week from today.
For now, Clint was their only investigator. Buddy was working on recruiting. They had interviewed three others so far. Their secretary, Rebecca Scott, who would also serve as a receptionist and occasionally as a babysitter when Lily and Katherine were tied up, was scheduled to start tomorrow. Jess was immensely grateful to find someone willing to wear so many hats and whom she trusted with her child while she met with clients and assigned investigators.
Assessing cases and determining the best way to proceed wouldn’t be that different from her profiler days—other than the fact that they wouldn’t likely be tracking serial killers and hunting murderers. Then again, throughout her career she always seemed to have a penchant for attracting the faces of evil.
The bell over the door jingled again, drawing Jess from the memory of one serial killer in particular. Four and a half months ago Ted Holmes had done all within his power to reach the highest level of evil by resurrecting the persona of Eric Spears and reenacting his obsession with Jess.
Banishing the memories once more, Jess produced a smile for the woman, thirty or so, who stood just inside the door as if she couldn’t decide what to do next. She was petite, around Jess’s height of five-four. Her black hair was long and lush; she was attractive. Her manner of dress, a soft beige pencil skirt with matching jacket and heels, suggested a career woman. Her gaze moved around the lobby, eventually landing on Jess. The fear and hesitation in her expression gave Jess pause.
“I need a private investigator,” she said, her voice trembling the slightest bit.
Jess was on the verge of telling her they didn’t open until the day after tomorrow when the woman added, “I shot a man.”
When she swayed, Jess hurried to usher her into the nearest chair. “Why don’t you have a seat? I’ll get you a bottle of water.”
Their first potential client shook her head. “No. Please.” She put her hand on Jess’s arm. “I need help.”
“Let’s start with your name.” Jess settled into a seat on the opposite side of the reclaimed factory cart that served as a coffee table.
“Natalie Drummond.”
“Well, Ms. Drummond, it sounds as if you might need the police rather than our services. I’ll be happy to call someone for you.” Jess’s first thought was to call Lori. Detective Lori Wells now worked in the Crimes Against Persons division. Jess considered her a dear friend and she was one of the best detectives in the department. It didn’t hurt that Lori’s husband, Chet Harper, was the ranking detective in the BPD’s major crimes team—as well as a good friend.
Drummond shook her head. “You don’t understand. I did call the police, but they can’t help me.”
The woman looked sincere and certainly terrified, but her story didn’t quite make sense. “I’m not sure I’m following you. Why can’t the police help you?”
Drummond wrung her hands in her lap. “The man I shot is missing. They found no evidence of an intruder in my home...even the gun I used was missing.” She shook her head, tears bright in her eyes. “I don’t understand how that’s possible. I shot him.” She looked straight at Jess. “I know I shot him. He fell to the floor. He...he was bleeding. I ran out of the house and waited for the police to arrive.” Her eyebrows drew together in a worried frown. “When they arrived he was gone.”
“Can you remember the detective’s name who came to the scene?” Whatever happened, Ms. Drummond was visibly shaken. That level of fear wasn’t easily manufactured.
“Lieutenant Grady Russell.”
Jess was acquainted with Russell. He was a detective in the Crimes Against Persons division. Russell was a good cop. “Why don’t I give the lieutenant a call and see what I can find out?”
Drummond nodded, visibly relieved. “Thank you.”
Jess stood. “Come with me and I’ll introduce you to one of our investigators.” No reason to mention that he was their only investigator.
Buddy
