by Izzy Gomez
“No. You did not get mad. Right now, I’m mad. But I don’t get stabby when I’m mad. I yell or I go running or I punch a pillow. You killed people.” She pounded out her email, one part of her brain composing as the other spoke. “You raped a woman. That’s not OK. I wouldn't help you if I were the god damned emperor of the world.”
“I did this for you too.” His voice lost most of the whine.
Her laugh this time was humorless rather than hysterical. “How the hell was this for me?”
“You hated her too,” he said, indignant. “And Hank. You hated them as much as I did.”
A shiver ran along her spine. She was nowhere near the same category as him. Even the suggestion was chilling. “Clearly I did not.”
“I did you a favor by getting them out of your life.”
She moved the cursor to the send button and tapped the mouse. Hopefully one of them was at their desk and would see the message. Someone should know Suspect Numero Uno was on the phone.
“Tell yourself whatever lies you need to get through the day.” She got up from the desk and went to her bedroom. Slipped on her holster.
The straps settling on her shoulders eased the building tension. Until that moment, she hadn't realized part of her was afraid of Todd. She touched the handle of her gun and it reassured her.
Grief, sudden and immense, swamped her. She fought to keep it at bay. Eventually she would let herself deal with the complex, twisted emotions this case evoked. But she couldn't right now. Especially not with Todd on the phone.
"I know you work with the DA. I know you can tell them to go easy on me. She deserved this."
It didn't matter how screwed up his mind was, it nauseated her that he thought she would do such a thing. Even if she were willing, it wasn't like she had the power to affect sentencing. But she could never do it. She would die first.
"You're on your own." Why hadn't he told her what was going on all those years ago? She could have helped him. Now it was too late.
She grabbed her keys from the hook next to her bedroom door and started for the kitchen. "You better hope we don't find you. Because when we do, you'll never see freedom again."
"Damn you! You will help me!"
Amanda froze. Sweat prickled her upper lip. Ice raced along her spine as she stood in the middle of her dining room. She'd never heard Todd yell like that. Where had this rage been hiding? What happened to set it free?
Now wasn't the time to ask questions. They had to focus on finding him. Then she could sit down with him, look him in the eyes and get her answers.
She closed her eyes, took a long, slow breath, and opened them. "I'm sorry, Todd. You were my brother and I loved you. But that ended the minute you killed someone. You're on your own."
Something brushed the back of Amanda's neck. Her nerves jolted and she jumped. Her hand hit her mug and coffee sloshed onto her desk.
"Ooh, sorry." Greg said. "Didn't mean to scare you."
She gave him a weak smile as she mopped the spill with a paper napkin. "I haven't had anything but coffee today. Guess I'm a little jumpy."
He leaned on her desk and crossed his arms over his chest. Something about the green shirt he wore looked inviting; she wanted to climb into those arms and hide for a few millennia. Maybe it wasn't so much his shirt as his arms. And his chest. And her desire to hide.
"I'd say we should take a lunch break. We both probably need it. But we got the location your brother called from. We're gonna see if we can get a bead on him."
Amanda's heart thumped into her throat and she almost choked on her coffee.
"How about we get dinner instead?" Greg ran his hand over her hair.
It was hard not to lean into his caress, let him massage her neck or shoulder or, hell, let him massage her whole damn body. She needed it. A week at a spa might make her start feeling human again. Maybe.
"I'll see." She couldn't eat. "They were talking about letting Gabby come home today. If they do, I promised I'd go with her."
"How's she doing?"
"She'll live. Williams gave her info on counseling. If she doesn't call someone in the next few weeks, I'll do it for her."
Greg smiled. "You're a good friend."
Yeah, such a super friend she hadn't realized how messed up her own brother was and he raped her best friend. But she couldn't say that out loud. Greg would tell her she couldn't blame herself. And yes, ultimately Todd was to blame.
But there had to have been some sign, sometime over the years, that she'd missed. If she'd picked up on it, maybe--
"I gotta get going. Voegler's waiting." He straightened and squeezed her shoulder. "Let me know about dinner."
"Schreiber! My office. Now."
Chapter 22
Capt. Brown shrugged out of her jacket as she headed for her office.
Greg nodded toward Brown. "Duty calls."
"See ya." Amanda needed a shot of caffeine before facing her boss. She took too big a gulp of the warmish liquid but ignored the pain as it pushed down her throat.
Brown stood at the door, waiting. As Amanda walked past, Brown nodded to a chair. “Have a seat.” She shut the door and took her chair.
Normally Amanda didn’t mind meeting with her boss. It was common for Amanda to give her updates on cases. And because of whatever weird tension existed between Al and the Captain, they usually talked alone.
Today, however, Amanda had a bad case of the jitters that she couldn't blame on coffee. This wasn’t a normal case and it wasn’t a typical meeting.
“I hear you got a phone call this morning.” Brown leveled a steady gaze at Amanda.
“Yes.” Amanda respected her boss, but like all cops, she knew not to give any more information than she was asked for. This wasn’t court testimony or an interrogation, but Brown's impassive demeanor made it feel like one.
“From your brother.”
“Yes.” Did she think Amanda was lying in her email?
Amanda told Al and Greg about it as soon as she got to work. She’d tried to recap as close as possible to verbatim. She would have included Brown in that briefing but the Captain was unavailable. Still, Amanda knew Greg had since updated Brown.
“You’re aware he is now our primary suspect?” Brown’s dark eyes never wavered from Amanda’s face.
Amanda was used to uncomfortable situations, but this conversation gave her goose bumps. Made her feel like she’d done something wrong.
“Yes.”
“You also took the witness statement in the sexual assault.” Brown began drumming her long fingers on her desk. A tactic Amanda knew she employed when questioning suspects. It was designed to fray their nerves and break them into confessing.
What did she want Amanda to confess?
“I spoke with the witness and encouraged her to give a formal statement to Detective Williams.”
For a long, tense moment, they stared each other down. Amanda didn’t move. Brown only moved those damn drumming fingers. The ticking of Brown’s clock–which had to be intentional, to unnerve people in situations like this–hung between them.
Finally Brown sat back and folded her arms over her chest.
Victory, Schreiber.
“All right, let’s cut the bullshit.” Brown’s eyes softened. The rest of her face remained granite. “I told you in no uncertain terms to get off this case. So why in the hell are you taking witness statements and talking with suspects?”
This was her idea of cutting the bullshit? “I didn’t take Gabrielle Fischer’s statement. She refused to speak with the other detectives and insisted she speak to me first. We’ve been close friends since grade school. She told me what happened and I encouraged her to make a formal statement to Detective Williams. Which she did.”
Amanda forced herself not to shift in her chair. Brown’s eagle-gaze made her twitchy, but she refused to show that weakness. “As for speaking with suspects, he called me. Of course I talked to him. If you recall, I also–while on the phone with him–
emailed other detectives to let them know the conversation was in progress. I have not sought to involve myself in this investigation since you asked me to turn things over to Detective Cole. But aspects of this investigation have sought my involvement. As tends to happen when two of the victims and the primary suspect are your family.”
Anger and frustration scorched through her. What the fuck was Brown’s problem? Amanda didn't need this on top of everything else.
“How about we really cut the bullshit and you tell me what your problem is. You know I haven’t been investigating. You know I haven’t done anything wrong or that will taint the evidence. And, maybe you don’t know this, so I’ll tell you.”
She leaned forward, getting as much in the Captain’s face as she could from across the desk. “I want Todd caught as much as everyone else. Probably more. For the rest of you it’s your job. For me, it’s my family. He’s destroyed us. I don’t care that he’s my brother. What’s left of my family deserves justice. If the best way I can get that is by stepping out of the way, that’s what I’ll do. That’s what I’ve done. So why am I really here?”
The vein in Brown’s left temple throbbed. A sure sign she was furious. Fine. Let her be furious. Amanda was pretty damn furious herself.
“I want you to take some time off. Maybe get out of town for a week or two, until we arrest your brother.”
Amanda closed her eyes and focused on the breath coming in through her nose. Out through her mouth. Slow and steady, in and out. It wasn't productive to laugh hysterically at her boss.
“No.” She opened her eyes and once again found herself pinned in that dark stare. “If I do that, you want to know what will happen? He’ll follow me. He wants to bring this to me."
Brown shook her head. "You're too involved in this case. I want you uninvolved."
This time Amanda did laugh. Sharp and without a trace of humor. "That's impossible." When Brown opened her mouth to reply, Amanda waved her off. "How do you think I can be uninvolved?"
"I will not have some defense attorney shredding our case because there's even an appearance of misconduct." Brown pointed at Amanda. "You will stay uninvolved."
"Due respect, Captain, I'm already involved. It's not my choice." Brown had no idea how very much it was not her choice. "I wish it were as easy as walking away. But, as I'm sure Detective Cole told you, Todd is making this about me. He thinks he did this for me."
Again, the idea sent a chill through Amanda. She couldn't hold back the outward shiver.
Brown's face softened from granite to steel. At this rate, they’d be down to limestone by quitting time.
"I will stay as far away from the investigation as he lets me," Amanda said. "But if he's contacting me, you need me. And if there's anything left of the man I knew, he'll contact me again. It's better that happen here than with me on some half-assed vacation."
"You don't go anywhere near physical evidence." Brown pointed a finger at Amanda. "No witness interviews. You are a conduit to your brother. Nothing else. Your brother contacts you, you contact us right away."
Like she’d done that morning. Amanda stifled the urge to salute. "Yes, ma'am. I understand." She tried to order her thoughts to phrase this next part right. "I know it might be hard to believe, but I really do want him caught. I wasn't fond of my stepmother or my other brother, but that doesn't matter. Todd killed two people. He destroyed my dad's life. And he—" Her voice stuck in her throat. It hurt so much to think of Gabby's attack.
"I know." Brown held up her hand. "And I do understand. If someone in my family did this, it wouldn't matter. It goes against what we do. Who we are."
Of course Brown got it; she was a cop too. Amanda struggled to regain her composure.
Abruptly, Brown swiveled her chair toward her computer. She opened her email and started typing.
Dismissed.
As Amanda stood, her cell phone buzzed. The display showed Gabby.
"Schreiber," Brown said as Amanda opened the door.
Amanda hit the button to silence her phone and turned back to her boss, bracing for another scolding. "Yes?"
"I'm sorry. I know this has been difficult for you and your family." Brown didn't take her eyes off her computer screen as she spoke.
Still, Amanda couldn't help smiling as she headed to her desk. She knew there was humanity beneath Brown's hard exterior; she just didn't show it often. It was difficult enough being a female detective. Being a female captain had to be a thousand times harder.
Sitting down at her desk, Amanda dialed Gabby. "Hey, it's me."
"Hi." Gabby's voice still sounded weak, but she was improving. She would need physical therapy to get back in shape to resume her job as an emergency room nurse, and of course she would need lots of counseling. Hopefully Gabby wouldn't try to convince herself she was strong enough to recover without help.
"They're springing me loose." Despite the fatigue, enthusiasm shaded Gabby's words.
"Good. What time should I pick you up?" Gabby wasn't going home alone. Not with Todd still out there.
Gabby laughed. "Hey, it doesn’t hurt to laugh anymore."
"Woohoo."
"My mom is here. She'll take me."
"Unacceptable."
"I'll be sure to tell her you said that."
Given Amanda’s lack of maternal affection, Helen Fischer had often stepped into a mothering role with Amanda. More than once, Amanda had wondered if Gabby's parents were the difference between her becoming a juvenile delinquent and her leading a productive life. Now it seemed even more likely.
"I don't want you home alone," Amanda said. "Not until…"
"I'm not going home," Gabby said, enthusiasm gone. "I'm staying with my parents. I still need help getting around. So Mom wouldn't let me go home, even if…"
The unspoken between them spoke louder than any words. Useless rage boiled inside Amanda. She wanted to scream. She wanted to cry for Gabby, tell her how sorry she was, how guilty she felt that it was her brother who did this.
God help Todd if she ever got to talk to him face to face. Someone would have to physically restrain her because she wouldn't bother holding back. She wanted to hurt and destroy him as much as he'd hurt and destroyed her. And her family. And most of all, Gabby.
It wasn't the mature reaction, but she was too emotionally exhausted to care.
"I'm gonna go out on a limb and guess your mom's making veal parmesan?" Amanda asked. Helen was an amazing cook. Amanda gained most of her skills from the woman. Veal parm was Helen’s specialty and Gabby's favorite.
"Promptly at 6:00. Should I tell her to set you a place?" Gabby's sounded like her usual teasing self.
It warmed Amanda to hear her friend sound so normal. She could recover. She would recover.
"Considering my last two cases have been taken from me, I find myself with a surprisingly light workload."
"Bring a bottle of chianti and she won't consider you a freeloader."
"I can't wait."
"Bring that hunky man of yours and she might even let you stay for dessert."
Amanda gave a startled laugh. "He's a little busy, but I'll see what I can do.
"Hey, Amanda?" Gabby's tone grew serious.
Amanda sat up straighter. “Yeah?"
"You're staying with him, right? All giggly girl talk aside, you're not sleeping alone at your place, are you?"
Amanda closed her eyes and took a deep breath to stem the rising sorrow. Gabby shouldn't be worrying about her. Amanda almost said she could take care of herself, but didn't want to imply Gabby couldn't. Gabby was a very capable woman; Todd had surprised her.
"I'm not officially staying at his place, but he already said to pack my toothbrush."
Gabby's exhale came through the phone loud and staticky. "Good."
"I've got plenty of people looking out for me and training in hand-to-hand combat. Don't waste your time worrying about me."
"I can't help it," Gabby said, voice tight. "He's going to come after
you, Amanda. I know he will."
Amanda jerked awake with a start. Panic gripped her chest until the mental fog lifted and she got her bearings. She was in a different bed, but not a strange one.
Relaxing her shoulders and back, she absorbed the moment of peace. Might as well take it while she could, since the day was going to be hellish. Emily didn’t want to deal with planning another funeral, so she’d decided to hold a memorial service at Dad’s house today.
Dread lay heavy in her stomach as she stared at the textured white plaster on Greg’s bedroom ceiling. Restlessness rippled through her. She needed to get up and move. Needed to run or cook or...something. Anything.
The thunk of the pipes as the shower turned off rattled through the older house. Inspired, she threw back the blanket. As she headed for the door, she yanked off the t-shirt Greg lent her when she showed up, exhausted, at 2:00 in the morning.
Pulling in a deep breath for courage, she opened the bathroom door and stepped into the small, steamy room. Greg had pulled back the shower curtain and was toweling his head.
His tall, lean body stood before her, wet and naked. Her mouth watered. Oh yeah. This was what she needed.
Hunger washed through her. She leaned against the closed door and watched, waiting for him to notice her.
He brought the towel from his face to his chest and began rubbing in smooth, efficient circles. When his head lifted and their eyes met, he froze. His gaze moved over her naked body, amplifying her desire.
His lips curled in a predatory smile. “Good morning.”
She answered with her own smile. Her skin tingled under his scrutiny. She wanted him now. Sooner than now.
She moved away from the door and covered the space between them in two steps. Rather than waste time telling him what she wanted, she pressed her lips to the center of his chest. Opened her mouth and drew circles with her tongue.
He moaned. “Wow.”
Her hands roamed the hard planes of his back, down, then up, then down. She could touch his skin forever. As her hands moved, so did her mouth. Along his collar bones, over to tease his nipple. Down.