All the Pretty Girls

Seven

T aylor felt the hand slowly sweeping up the back of her thigh. She stretched languorously, burrowing her face deeper in her pillow. The hand drew closer and closer to her panties and she took a deep breath of anticipation.

The shrill ring of the telephone brought her fully awake, as did the muttered curse of the man who belonged to the hand.

“Damn, who’s calling this early?” growled Baldwin.

“If I had to guess, I’d say work. Generally, no one calls me this early in the morning unless someone’s dead.” She slapped his hand away playfully, for despite the ringing phone, his fingers had not veered off course. She reached across the bed and picked up the phone, glancing at the caller ID. She was right. “Lieutenant Jackson here.”

“Taylor, it’s Price.”

Captain Mitchell Price didn’t usually call her at home unless it was absolutely necessary. She struggled to sit up, smashing a pillow behind her back so she’d at least sound like she was up and awake.

“Good morning, Cap. What can I do for you?”

“We’ve got a situation that needs to be handled.” It wasn’t like him to be so gruff. She could only imagine what could be wrong to have him snapping at her. She glanced out the window and saw that it was raining softly.

“We’ve had another attack by the Rainman.” She could hear the strain in the captain’s voice. “It was his choice of victim that’s got us involved. I need you to head over to Betsy Garrison’s house.”

“He raped the lead investigator of his case? Are you kidding me?”

Price sighed, and Taylor’s heart reached out to him.

“He damn near killed her. She’s been taken to Baptist, but the scene needs some control and the chief asked for you personally.”

“Uh-oh, that can’t be good.”

The Metro Nashville Police Department had come under new management, and the rank and file weren’t pleased with the choice.

“He wanted a ranking female on the case. You’re the homicide lieutenant. If she dies it falls under our auspices anyway. Maybe he’s using some foresight, or maybe he just wants to make it look good for the press. I don’t know. Things have been crazy down here this morning. The B shift caught two project murders, and with that Shauna Davidson girl missing…Either way, if you can extricate yourself from whatever you’re doing, I’d appreciate you getting over there and letting me know what’s happening.”

Taylor felt a brief moment of panic. Surely he didn’t know what she had actually been up to. She weighed the thought, then decided no, he was just being funny. Price was like that. Half-misogynistic old-school cop, half-caring, sensitive police. She played along.

“You’re making assumptions, Captain.”

“I just figured you might be trying to have a life, Lieutenant. Now get over there and do me proud.” He hung up the phone, leaving Taylor with an odd sense of satisfaction. She knew it had probably been Price’s idea that she step into the case.

She set the phone back in its cradle and glanced across the room at Baldwin. His phone had rung but she hadn’t noticed. As he talked quietly, a sense of dismay crossed his rugged features. That couldn’t be good.

He gave her a half smile and said goodbye to whoever had decided to ruin his morning. He came back to the bed, sliding between the sheets and giving her a small kiss.

Taylor threaded her fingers in his dark hair, too long by Bureau standards and perfect by hers. Silver bled from his temples and it curled slightly at the nape of his neck. She slipped her hand down, rubbing his neck softly.

“Bad news, babe?” she asked.

“I have to go to Georgia. They’ve found Shauna Davidson.”

And those four words stopped the gentleness of their morning.