Brody Law: The Bridge / The District / The Wharf / The Hill. Carol Ericson. Читать онлайн. Newlib. NEWLIB.NET

Автор: Carol Ericson
Издательство: HarperCollins
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Жанр произведения: Современные любовные романы
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maybe if your father had been able to see a good therapist like Courtney, she could’ve gotten inside his head.”

      Sean’s eyes widened and he brought her hand to his lips and kissed her knuckles. “You’ve just given me a great idea.”

      With the impression of his lips still burning her skin, Elise smiled. “Do you want me to get Courtney down here so she can shrink your head?”

      “No, thanks.” He dropped her hand and took a turn around the room. “I went through my father’s files when I started working with the department, and I noticed that he’d been referred to a psychologist specializing in law enforcement issues. The referral had been made when the killer started communicating with him, before he became a suspect in the killings.”

      “Did he go?”

      “I don’t know. I didn’t follow up on it.”

      Missing his touch, she crossed her arms and pulled out a chair from the kitchen table. “Courtney would be the first one to tell you about client confidentiality. You can’t go barging into a therapist’s office asking about his or her patients.”

      “Even after twenty years? Even if the patient is dead?” He parked himself on the arm of Courtney’s white brocade couch.

      “I don’t know how long confidentiality lasts. What are you hoping to find?”

      “Answers, Elise. I need answers, especially because I’m afraid the whole thing is happening again.”

      “Was the therapist’s name in your father’s file?”

      Sean scratched his chin. “No, but the department uses the same ones, so I’m sure I’ll be able to find out whom we were using back then. Plus, I have my sources in the department.”

      “Would the powers that be allow you to reopen your father’s case?”

      He snorted. “Not likely. They’d rather forget about it. I’m sure there were plenty in the department who didn’t want to hire me in the first place. If I start making trouble, that faction will use that as justification.”

      “But you still have sources?”

      “Yeah. One of the most powerful people in the department.”

      “Chief Stoddard?”

      “Chief Marie.” He winked.

      “Who’s Chief Marie?”

      “Marie Giardano. She keeps our records.”

      “Ah, friends in high places.”

      “She worked there when my father did, and she knew both of my parents. She never believed he was the Phone Book Killer, either.”

      She raised her eyebrows at the name. “I’m assuming he picked his victims out of the phone book?”

      “In alphabetical order, starting with the letter D.”

      Gasping, Elise clutched her throat. “Just like Duran and Duncan.”

      “You see why it looks like déjà vu to me?”

      “Sean—” she reached out and traced her fingertips along the wings of his tattoo “—do you think your ink has anything to do with it?”

      He shivered beneath her touch. “Of course I thought about it. That’s why I freaked out in a totally unprofessional manner when you told me about your attacker’s tattoo.”

      “Do you think he’s some kind of copycat?” She covered her mouth with her hands. “Is that what the message on my mirror was all about?” She cinched his arm. “Is someone going to start trying to pin these murders on you?”

      “I can’t say the thought didn’t cross my mind.”

      “Why didn’t you tell me all this before?”

      He placed his hands on her shoulders, wedging his thumbs against her collarbones. “I didn’t want to drag you into all of this, Elise. It’s ancient history to most people, but it haunts me every day, every day I catch a glimpse of the bridge.”

      Her heart ached for this man and the burden he carried. Her issues with her family and Ty seemed trivial compared with Sean Brody’s family legacy.

      She encircled his wrists with her fingers. “I am involved, Sean, and it’s not ancient history to me. It’s my story, right now. And I want to help you in any way I can.”

      His dark eyes burned into hers, and she didn’t look away. She didn’t ever want to look away. She wanted to get lost in the depths of his soul and bring light to his darkness.

      When his lips touched hers, they scorched her with their heat and passion. She sagged against his chest, and he wrapped one arm around her waist.

      He deepened the kiss and she drank him in, getting drunk on the sensations that swirled through her body. Who needed wine? She had Sean Brody.

      Courtney yelped from the top of the stairs, and they jumped apart.

      She called down. “This new client is going to be a pain. First session today, and he’s already calling me after hours.”

      Elise rolled her eyes at Sean. “Is it an emergency?”

      “He thinks so, but I talked him down from the ledge, so to speak.” Courtney stopped on the staircase, clutching her phone in her hand. “Oh, I’m sorry. I didn’t realize you were still here, Sean.”

      He held up his hand. “I’m on my way out.”

      “Don’t let me scare you away.” She drew a circle around her face, which was caked with green paste. “When this comes off, I’m more beautiful than ever.”

      Elise slipped her arm through his. “I’ll walk you out. Thanks for dinner.”

      “My pleasure.” He brushed a loose strand of hair from her cheek. “I hope you’re feeling better after today’s events.”

      “I feel fine, but it’ll be nice having the Oakland P.D. patrolling the school this week.”

      “And your leg?”

      “Stiff and sore, but it could be worse, right?”

      “You’re tough, kid.”

      “It’s like you said before. He’s going to make a mistake soon.”

      He cupped her face with one hand and brushed his lips against hers. “I just don’t want you getting burned.”

      As she watched him walk down the hallway to the elevator, she murmured, “Too late for that, Sean Brody. Too late for that.”

       Chapter Twelve

      Sean hunched over the counter, studied Marie’s lined face and gave her his best smile. “I know where the boxes are, Marie.”

      She tapped a pen on top of the log book. “You should. You’ve practically worn a path in the linoleum back there over the years.”

      He plucked the pen from her fingers, the long red fingernails at odds with her age-spotted skin, and slid the log book toward him.

      Marie snatched it away. “You don’t need to sign in, Sean.”

      He lifted one eyebrow. “Since when?”

      “Since the brass has been snooping through the books.”

      His pulse jumped. “Looking for what?”

      “Your guess is as good as mine.” She raised her plump shoulders. “I just don’t think they need to see your name written in ink checking out your dad’s case files again. Especially now.”

      He leaned in closer, his breath fogging the glass in the window. “What are you hearing?”