Ghost Walking

by Ally Shields

  “Which part?” Josh asked with a faint smile. “The scrubs, the meals, or the hospital’s limited cable channels?”

  “The boredom,” Harry answered promptly. “But I guess that’s over. Instead I can be terrified every time the door opens.”

  “Just don’t shoot your mother’s doctor.” Maggie gave him a half-serious look. “I know Josh gave you a gun. I suspect the hospital staff is in more danger than you are.”

  After delivering Harry back to the private suite, they spoke to the officer on the door. “My mother is not doing well,” Josh said. “I don’t want her disturbed by anyone not currently on her visiting list. I don’t care who it is, even another cop. If he’s not on the list, he doesn’t get in. If you have any doubts, call me.”

  * * *

  Maggie rubbed her tired eyes. 6:00 a.m. Except for a two-hour crash, she and Josh had been up all night, going over the files again, checking and double-checking her lists. Other names surfaced they hadn’t considered before. The Medical Examiner, Art Merriweather, had been present at every scene, including Maggie’s shooting. Someone had jumped the gun that night and notified his office when she first coded, and no one had thought to call him back. By the time he arrived, she’d been rushed to the hospital, but his brief appearance meant his name was on the list. The rescue squad had also been at every location, although it wasn’t clear from these reports which EMTs had been working. They’d marked that for further inquiry.

  She reached for the phone and called Annie. They needed help, and Annie excelled at digging into computer files others couldn’t get near. Sometimes Annie’s black hat skills were a topic of contention between them, but these were desperate circumstances…and there wasn’t time to be technically correct. Questioning Arthur Merriweather without more evidence than they had would only create a big headache for the NOPD. He’d file a complaint, and Maggie and Brandt would be called on the carpet to explain themselves. An awkward session at best while everyone at the PD remained a suspect.

  “But he’s the medical examiner,” Annie protested. “Don’t they make good money? Why would he work for Castile?”

  “Why’s anyone work for Castile?” Maggie heard the sharpness in her voice and backed off. “I don’t know the doc’s financial status. Maybe he’s got huge gambling debts. I don’t know anything about his personal life. That’s why I need you. Right now you’re one of the few people I don’t suspect of being on his payroll.” She deliberately lightened her tone. “You’re not, are you?”

  “Very funny. OK, I’ll get on it as soon as I’ve had my coffee. Anything else, since I’m up now?”

  “Captain Jenson.”

  Silence. “NOPD Captain Jenson? Your one and only boss?”

  “That’s the guy.”

  “Geez, Maggie. You’re serious about suspecting everyone.”

  “Deadly. Oh, and Annie, if you have an extra moment, you might give Harry a call. He’s pretty freaked out over our latest suspicions.”

  “Well now…” Annie’s voice took a flirty turn. “That task will be pure pleasure. I miss seeing him.” She sighed. “But I understand why it’s a bad idea. I’ll call you as soon as I’m finished poking around everybody’s emails, social media, and financials. If they own any off shore bank accounts, a fleet of Ferraris, or million dollar homes in Malibu, I’ll be sure to mention it. Stay safe. I don’t have time to find a new best friend.”

  While Maggie waited to hear from Annie, she showered, dressed, and put on a new pot of coffee. Since his fridge held little except beer and condiments, Josh ran out for breakfast, returning with egg and bacon muffins, a loaf of bread, a jar of peanut butter, and a bag of beignets.

  “Why the peanut butter?” she asked, frowning at the jar when they were almost finished eating.

  “Emergency rations. Protein’s good for you. Better than this sweet stuff.” He reached over and wiped powdered sugar from her chin. “I have to check in at the PD and see if I can learn more about Wernier’s informant. I don’t know why, but that phone number’s ringing a vague bell.” He shrugged. “I can’t place it. While I’m gone, keep the doors locked. Why don’t you go back to bed for a while?”

  “Don’t I wish. It’s tempting, but I want to gather info on the EMT crews. And then I’ll start on the roster at the station. There are one hundred nine cops on current active duty out of District 13 and a dozen civilians. Hopefully I can cross off some…like you.” She flashed him a quick smile. “But even with Annie’s help, that’s a lot of checking, and we might have only days or hours to identify a suspect. Five related deaths in a month, three in the last week. Castile is escalating rapidly.”

  “You’re driving yourself too hard.” He stood and leaned down to kiss the tip of her nose. “I won’t be gone long.”

  She watched him clip his badge to his belt and slip the Beretta into its holster. Maggie smiled as he strode out the door. A complex man. A kiss on the nose, a gun on his hip.

  By nine she knew the EMTs were clear. Five different crews had responded to various crime scenes; none of them to more than three of the suspect locations. She moved their list to the unlikely pile and began working on District 13.

  Her first pass through she crossed off five names: four officers hired within the last three or four months and Josh’s partner Eddie, who’d been out of state during several recent incidents. Not a good start. That left one hundred four. Oops. One hundred two. She’d forgotten to cross off her own name, still on the reserve list, and Brandt’s. She did so now. Ironic that three weeks ago he was high on her suspect list. Now, she’d rather believe herself guilty.

  OK, Maggie. Stay on task. She got up and poured another cup of coffee, then called Annie. “Any luck?”

  “Some. I think your captain’s OK. No extra deposits to his accounts or big expenditures. Not an extravagant lifestyle, but comfortable. I don’t see any red flags.”

  “What about Merriweather?”

  “I’ve just started on him, but I have turned up a few unexplained bank deposits. And he’s carrying a lot of debt. Give me another hour to see if I can explain some of it.”

  Maggie pictured the Medical Examiner’s typically somber face. Not a warm, fuzzy personality. Always serious, usually in a hurry. He didn’t seem the criminal type, but, truthfully, what type was that?

  “How much more are you up for?” she asked. “I have over a hundred cops to check out.”

  Annie let out an audible sigh. “Hey, girlfriend, you’re becoming a slave driver. I can give you a few more hours, but I’m meeting Charlie later to break it off. I don’t want to string him along, not the way I keep thinking about Harry all the time.”

  “Are you sure? You haven’t known Harry long.”

  Annie laughed. “And your point would be?”

  “Yeah, OK. I guess there is something about the Brandt brothers.”

  Maggie hung up and placed a checkmark next to Jenson’s name, labeling it unlikely. She hesitated—and finally crossed it off entirely. No money trail, and no access to the missing evidence. If the captain had shown up at a crime scene, the officers’ reports would reflect that. Her gut feelings cleared him too. Still, she was glad Annie had checked. That left one hundred one.

  She began reviewing online public information sites about the remaining officers, mostly gathering family information—marriage announcements, children’s sports or music accomplishments, relatives’ obituaries. She’d moved onto property information when Josh called to say he was following up on a lead regarding the informant.

  Maggie’s throat tightened. That’s what Wernier had been doing when a sniper picked him off. “Why don’t I come with you?”

  “My informant doesn’t know you. It’s best if I go alone.” He paused. “Maggie, I’ll be fine. I haven’t been targeted.”

  “Yet.”

  “I’ll keep it short. I promise. But I have an idea who Wernier was meeting that morning. I hope to confirm the identity and find a way to make contact.”

&nb
sp; “Ok, but call if I can help.” Maggie bit her lip to keep from asking who and where he was going. He couldn’t tell her over the phone without the risk of compromising his source.

  “Be careful, Josh.” The words they hadn’t yet said hovered on her lips, but all she added was, “Good luck.”

  * * *

  Brandt’s lips curved as he slipped his phone in his pocket. Maggie sounded tense, worried. But it was the small hesitation that caught his attention. Had she almost said she loved him? Did she mean it? Is that what he wanted? She brought a lot of complications with her. His smile broadened, and he chuckled. Who was he kidding? Hell, yes, he wanted her. When things were more settled, he intended to tell her so. Good incentive to get back to work and get the current mess straightened out.

  He opened the driver’s door of his car parked outside District 13, shed his jacket and tie, and tossed them inside. Before sliding behind the wheel, he stuck his badge in his pants pocket and pulled out his shirttail to cover the Beretta. All business now, he drove toward Jackson Square.

  Cafe du Monde was a very public place for such a meeting, but it was always crowded with all types of people sampling its famous beignets. Neither he nor his informant would stand out as unusual.

  He spotted Tessa right away. She sat at a table on the right, and the sugar on her lips said she hadn’t waited to order.

  “Hey, big guy. You need to smile more,” she said by way of greeting. Her eyes slanted saucily in a heart-shaped face. Although Tessa was a hooker, she didn’t look it. Perhaps it was her reserved, oriental upbringing, but she didn’t advertise her assets in public. She didn’t need to; there was no question a sexy woman hid under the blue T-shirt and faded jeans.

  “It’s been a bad week,” he said, taking the chair across from her.

  “Yeah, I heard. Sorry.” She’d lost the flirty tone.

  He liked that about her. Despite the ugliness and abuse in her life—or maybe because of it—Tessa had a good heart. She genuinely cared about others.

  “Appreciate that. So would his wife and two little kids. It’s why I need your help. He’d been using an informant. I found the phone number in his file.”

  “Not my number,” she said, lowering her voice even further. “I only talk to you.”

  “I know that, Tessa, but once you called on a different phone. Borrowed, I think, from a female friend.”

  She stiffened and pursed her lips. “Even if I did, I can’t tell you anything about her. It wouldn’t be safe.”

  Her. Brandt hid his eager response. So Tessa knew exactly who he meant. At least she hadn’t stone-walled him. Maybe he could make her understand.

  “How about if you just listen?” He told her about Wernier going to meet someone the morning he died, and he told her why. “If Castile’s operating inside the PD, we’re all in trouble. You want him running everything in the city? You know what he’s like.”

  She turned her head away, then kept her eyes lowered as she picked at a fingernail. “Sure I know. Your dead cop must have been quite a talker. Castile or one of his goons would kill my friend if he found out she’d gone near the cops.”

  “He may already know—or will soon.” Her head snapped up to stare at him, her eyes wide. He told her about the missing notes. “I was half afraid he’d already found her. Have you talked with her recently?”

  “I got a text last night. She’s out of town. Won’t be back until Saturday.”

  “Then we have time to protect her. Will you get in touch? Warn her? And ask her to talk to me?”

  She met his eyes, determination in her voice. “Oh, I’ll warn her for sure, but I’m telling her to stay away, relocate. She can’t come back to New Orleans. Ever. But…” Tessa stopped and scrunched her forehead in thought. “I’ll have her tell me the info you want. If she does—and she will—I’ll pass it to you.”

  Brandt nodded. It was the best he could hope for, and he realized the chance she was taking. If her boyfriend got wind of this, he’d probably beat her to death unless Castile thought of something more painful first.

  Before he left, Brandt bought two orders to go, handed one to Tessa with a wink and a hundred dollar bill inside, and took the other home for Maggie.

  * * *

  Too restless to concentrate on paperwork after Josh’s call, Maggie checked with Annie for an update on Merriweather. But her friend hadn’t found anything new online, and Maggie decided it was time for a little fieldwork. Surely she could ask Merriweather about the Otley case without raising red flags, and she’d do her assessment of him while they talked. She might even drop a hint about lab irregularity and see how he reacted. It would be better than sitting at home worrying about Josh.

  She considered calling to tell him where she was going, but it was doubtful he’d pick up during a meeting with a CI. She compromised by leaving a note stuck to the computer screen and virtuously shrugged into her lightweight body armor.

  Maggie parked in front of the Medical Examiner’s office, got out, and jerked her head up when a familiar voice called her name.

  “Hey, Maggie, this is the last place I thought I’d see you.” Ray Coridan sauntered toward her, a smile on his face.

  She forced a smile and stopped to wait for him, feeling uncomfortable that her former partner was still on the suspect list. But she hadn’t been able to clear him yet. “Likewise. Do you have a new homicide case?”

  He shrugged. “Looks like a suicide, but I need to hear the doc’s verdict. Gunshot to the temple. Why are you here?”

  “Just a question on an old case. Nothing important.”

  His gaze sharpened. “You’re following up while on medical leave?”

  Damn. Now she’d tweaked his curiosity. “I’m bored, Coridan. Captain said I could tie up some loose ends.”

  “Oh. One of our cases?”

  “Nope. Something the captain gave me. I really shouldn’t talk about it. I’m pretty sure it’s just a clerical error. No need to smear the officer involved.”

  Her phone rang, and she glanced at the screen. Annie. She waved the phone at him with a grin. “Annie’s calling about her hot date last night. Sorry, but girl talk trumps shoptalk.”

  “OK.” Coridan waved good-naturedly and entered the police annex that housed the ME’s office.

  “Timely call, Annie. What do you have for me?”

  “Forget Merriweather. His wife’s been really ill. Medical bills account for a lot of his debt, and the deposits are from insurance payments and the liquidation of retirement assets to cover her expenses.”

  “Wow, timely in more than one way. I was just about to interview him, annoy him for no reason, and embarrass myself. Saved my skin, girlfriend.”

  She drove home, hoping Josh would be there. When he wasn’t, she again resisted the temptation to call. If he didn’t answer, she’d worry even more. Another hour. If she hadn’t heard by then… Maggie brewed a new pot of coffee, returned to her lists, and waited fretfully until she heard a key in the lock and Josh strode into the room…dark and sexy as ever…and very much alive.

  * * *

  After Maggie’s enthusiastic greeting—which had caught him by surprise—Josh spent the rest of the afternoon and evening helping her work down the long list of cops. It was slow going. Most officers kept as much information as they could out of the public domain. Annie helped until she had to go to her break-up meeting with Charlie, but they’d only vetted seventeen since scratching Jenson’s name. Eighty-five still remained on the suspect list when Josh’s phone rang at eleven that night.

  “Brandt, it’s me.” Tessa’s voice was a hushed whisper. “I can’t talk long. My boyfriend’s asleep, and I’m outside on the porch. I talked with R— my friend. She wasn’t there when Wernier was shot. She’d already met with him and left. But the info she had was on another cop. She gave Wernier a photo that morning, one she’d snapped on her phone when the guy met with Castile. I guess it’s blurred, but Wernier thought he could fix it or something.”


  “He didn’t have a cell phone or photo on him.”

  “All I know is what she said. Maybe he lost it.”

  Or someone took it before the cops arrived. The autopsy had indicated Wernier was dead well before the incident was reported. Time enough for an accomplice or a street punk to have gone through Wernier’s pockets. “Does she still have a copy on her phone?”

  “I don’t know. I’ll ask. But not tonight. I have to go.”

  “Did she give you a description?”

  “No. Just that it was a guy—” Brandt heard a man call her name in the background. An angry exchange started, and Tessa disconnected.

  Josh tightened his hand on the phone. Damn. Would she be all right? Her so-called boyfriend had put her in the ER at least twice that he knew of. But Brandt knew better than to call her back. If he didn’t hear from her again within twenty-four hours, he’d put out some careful feelers…unless they got a dead body call.

  He flexed his shoulders and turned to meet Maggie’s gaze. “It’s a cop. Wernier’s snitch confirmed it.” He repeated the gist of the conversation.

  “I feel sick,” she said. “I didn’t want it to be a cop.”

  He nodded. “Yeah, I know. Anybody else. In spite of concentrating on this list, I kept hoping.”

  Maggie heaved a resigned sigh and picked up the master sheet. “Since it’s a man, we can cross off some additional names. Only three of those we already did were women.” She went down the rows, drawing a line through every female officer’s name. “That drops us to sixty-seven possibles.” She looked up at him. “But we need to grab some sleep and start fresh in the morning. I’m dead on my ass, and so are you.”

  “You go on to bed. I think I’ll take a drive.”

  Maggie cocked her head at him. “You’re worried about her, aren’t you? Tessa, I mean.”

  “It’s the damned boyfriend, one of Castile’s guys. He’s an abuser, but she won’t leave him. I thought I’d drive down her street.”