Field of Graves(51)

Suddenly shy, she dug into her food. The clams were perfect, crunchy and smooth. She hadn’t realized how hungry she was. She noticed Baldwin was eating his burger like a man condemned, enjoying each bite as though it were his last. It brought her up short, and she started laughing.

“You know, they’ll make you more if you want.”

“I feel like I haven’t had a chance to relax and eat in months. You know, the other night at Mulligan’s was the first time I’d been in a restaurant for almost six months. I thought I’d savor the moment.”

Taylor saw the opportunity. “I’ve been wanting to ask how you were feeling. You seem to be— What’s a good way of putting it...?”

“Better?”

“Yes. Better.”

He took a careful bite of his burger, giving himself a moment before he had to answer. “I guess you could say this case has caught my interest. I have a gut feeling it’s not over by a long shot.”

“The case. Of course.”

He gave her a long look, and her stomach tightened. What the hell was she doing?

“Or maybe I felt like you saved my life, and I owed you one.” He looked straight into her eyes, marveling at their chameleon qualities. In the darkness of the bar, they were lavender, her pupils dilated. She had a sexy, come-hither quality that he was having a hard time denying. He’d never seen anything so exquisite in his life. Realizing his interest probably showed on his face, he hastily turned away and shoved some fries in his mouth.

But Taylor had caught the moment of unguarded emotion. She didn’t know if it was gratefulness or attraction, but she reached over and touched his arm.

“I’m glad you stayed with it.” She left it at that and finished the rest of her meal.

They sat quietly, not feeling the need to talk. They’d come to some tacit agreement in their silence. Yes, the attraction was there. Yes, they both felt it. No reason to push anything.

Taylor ordered another round of beers. As they were set in front of them, her cell phone rang. She looked at the caller ID and frowned.

“Price,” she told Baldwin, who nodded. He knew their brief idyll was just that, though he was sorry they couldn’t spend a little more time together away from the case. Maybe they’d found Jill Gates.

“Hey, Captain.” He could see the muscles in her shoulders tense. “Where? Okay, we’re on our way. Yeah, I’ve got Baldwin with me. He’ll come along.” She hung up, took a last swig of her beer.

“Price wants you to come with me to a scene.” She was frowning, her attention already pulled away, and he felt the lack of it keenly.

“What scene? Did they find Jill?”

She shook her head. “I don’t know. St. Catherine’s Church caught on fire. They thought it was a lightning strike from the storm until the firefighters found two bodies shoved into a confessional. They were burned to death.”





42



They pulled into the parking lot at the church, weaving their way through the fire engines. Large crime scene spotlights showed the church exterior. It was made of harled white stone and had suffered only superficial damage, but curls of smoke were still drifting through the air, a smoldering perfume clinging to the parking lot. Taylor saw Sam standing by the entrance of the church. She looked grim, was giving directions to two men with a heavy gurney between them. They went to join her.

Sam gave the two a sideways glance. “What took you so long?”

“So long? Price only called me ten minutes ago. We came immediately.”

“Oh. Sorry.” She frowned, nodding. “I’ve already pulled them out, and we’re taking them back to the office.”

“Want to fill me in? Price didn’t give me any details.”

Sam kept nodding. She was smudged with soot and had a faraway look on her face. “Yeah. Let’s go over there.” She pointed to Taylor’s car and started walking. Taylor and Baldwin followed. “Sorry to be short, but this is freaking me out.”

“Sam?” Taylor said sharply. She was getting a little freaked out, too. Sam never got flustered at a scene.

“I’m okay, T, just a little rattled. Baldwin, are you Catholic?”

“No. I’m Episcopalian. At least I used to be. Why?”

“Just wondering. I’m Catholic. This isn’t the way I’d like to go. I don’t think I’ll make it to confession for a while. Taylor, do you have a cigarette?”

“You’re going to smoke at a fire?”

“Hey, give me a break, okay?”

Taylor gave her one and lit it for her. “You mind filling us in?”

Sam took a long drag and coughed slightly. “Fire department got the call right after the storm rolled through. Everyone figured a lightning strike started the fire. The guys went in full bore with the hoses, but it wasn’t too bad. Seemed to be confined to the nave and chapel. They put it out, but there was that smell, you know?”

They did know. The unmistakable sweet, sickening smell of burnt flesh had invaded their nostrils as they’d drawn close to the doors of the church.

“So they get the flames put out relatively quickly and start looking around. They followed the burn pattern to the confessionals and found them inside. The woman was on one side, the priest on the other. They’re pretty charred—it looks like the fire was started in the confessional, or damn close to it.”