Brazen Virtue

Grace.”

    She didn’t, but crushed out her cigarette in an empty cup. “You know something I’ve noticed? I’m just catching onto it, though it’s been happening for some time. You give orders, Jackson. I don’t take them.” She was calm, almost too calm, but it felt right. “Now, you’re bigger than I am, but I swear to God, if you don’t get out of my way, I’ll mow you down.”
    He didn’t doubt it, but now wasn’t the time to put it to the test. “This is police business.”
    “This is my business. My sister. And I’ve finally found something I can do besides staring at the ceiling and asking myself why.”
    Her voice had wavered, then strengthened again. He was absolutely sure if he offered comfort she’d slap it aside. “There are rules, Grace. You don’t have to like them, but they’re there.”
    “Fuck the rules.”
    “Fine, then maybe today we’ll find another woman dead, and tomorrow one more.” Because he saw that one point had hit home, he pressed. “You write a hell of a detective novel, but this is real. Ben and I are going to do our job, and you’re going home. I can slap a restraining order on you.” He paused as her eyes challenged him, half-amused, half-furious. “Or I can put you in protective custody. You’d like that.”
    “Bastard.”
    The single word might have been furious, but Ed knew he’d gotten his way. “Go home, get some sleep. Better yet, go to my place.” Reaching in his pocket, he drew out his keys. “If you don’t take care of yourself, you’re going to keel over again. That’s not going to do anybody a hell of a lot of good.”
    “I’m not going to sit around and do nothing.”
    “No, you’re going to eat, you’re going to sleep, and you’re going to wait for me to get back. If there’s anything I can tell you, I will.”

    In reflex, she caught the keys he tossed to her. “What if he kills someone else?”
    That was a question he’d been asking himself since two A.M . “We’ll get him, Grace.”
    She nodded because she’d always believed right won out over wrong. “When you do, I want to see him. Face-to-face.”
    “We’ll talk about it. You want someone to drive you home?”
    “I’m still capable of driving a car.” She opened her purse and dropped his keys inside. “I’ll wait, Jackson, but I’m not a patient woman.”
    As she started to move by him he caught her chin in his hand. There was color in her face again, the first real color he’d seen in days. Somehow, it didn’t reassure him. “Get some sleep,” he muttered before he swung the door open for her.
    W HEN THEY WALKED THROUGH the door into Fantasy’s cramped office, Eileen was on the phone. She looked up, unsurprised, then finished giving her operator instructions. Even when Ben tossed a warrant on her desk, she didn’t miss a beat. Her call finished, she picked it up and read it carefully.
    “This seems to be in order.”
    “You lost another employee last night, Mrs. Cawfield.”
    She looked up at him, then back down at the warrant. “I know.”
    “Then you also know that you’re the link. Your business is the only connection between Mary and Kathleen.”

    “I know that’s the way it looks.” She picked up the warrant again to run it between her fingers. “But I can’t believe it’s true. Look, I told you before, this isn’t a dial-a-porn operation. I run a clean and organized business.” There was a flash of panic as she looked up again. Ed noted it, though her voice remained calm and reasonable. “I majored in business management at Smith. My husband’s a lawyer. We’re not backstreet people. We provide a service. Conversation. If I thought I was responsible, somehow responsible for the deaths of two women …”
    “Mrs. Cawfield, there’s only one person responsible. That’s the man who killed them.” She shot Ed a look of gratitude, and he pressed his advantage. “A woman called in a disturbance at Mary Grice’s place last night. It wasn’t a neighbor, Mrs. Cawfield.”
    “No. Could I have one of those?” she asked when Ben pulled out a cigarette. “I quit two years ago.” She smiled a little as he lit it for her. “Or my husband thinks I did. He’s into health, you know? Prolonging your life, improving your lifestyle. I can’t tell you how much I’ve grown to detest alfalfa sprouts.”
    “The call, Eileen,” Ben prompted.
    She drew on the cigarette, then sent out smoke in a quick, nervous puff. “There was a client