Answering the Call

by Ali Vali

  After two hours, they were called to the murder in the lower Garden District, and neither of them felt lucky. The guy who’d been shot in the head was one of the janitors at their earlier scene, and Hunter had obviously hidden under the back seat of the old Oldsmobile. But they couldn’t figure out if he’d willingly allowed Hunter to escape or was surprised when he arrived home.

  “Take a nap, and I’ll swing by and pick you up after I finish mine,” she said, dropping Nathan off. “I’ll call you before I come back.”

  The drive home was quiet, and she went over the night again while she was alone. She had to be overlooking a clue because Hunter was simply a copycat and nothing more. By killing the defense team, or a majority of them, Hunter had screwed Perlis, so it wasn’t about him and what he’d done.

  “Lourdes.” She’d called the precinct, knowing Lourdes had gone in on the off chance someone needed information.

  “You’re not dead on your feet yet?” Lourdes asked, then groaned. “Sorry. Poor choice of words.”

  “I am beat, but do me a favor and make a note to call Estella and ask her about religious statues, rare ones,” she said of the woman who owned the books Perlis had stolen and used for his crimes. “Maybe we’ll take a field trip to her place later.”

  “You got it. See you in a few hours.”

  “Let’s hope we can go that long before something else happens.”

  * * *

  Their driveway was larger than most on the street, and it was still full because of the number of people in the house, but Sept wasn’t about to complain. The crowd inside was easier to protect together than spread out over three different locations. She parked on the street and waved to the guys on patrol, impressed at how perky they looked.

  She stopped at the BMW sedan Carla drove and noticed the sticker with the caduceus on it. The two snakes wrapped around a staff reminded her of Julio’s history lesson on Saints Cosme and Damain. The two Christian martyrs were talented doctors who now also had followers in Santeria.

  “Is there a problem?” the nearest guy asked.

  “Were you here when the woman who drives this car arrived?” She found it hard to believe Carla was capable of these crimes, but could it be someone in the medical community who was using the murders as a way to blow off steam?

  “She looked dead tired when she got here a couple of hours ago. Said it was a tough night.”

  That was an understatement. “Thanks, and it was. You guys need anything?”

  “Go to bed, Sept. We got this.”

  She stopped and grabbed a juice and chatted with Lou. He told her Carla did in fact appear beat and was filthy from changing a tire. It was hard to find a doctor who did that, she guessed. Her own exhaustion made it easy to let her brain run off in a dark direction like she’d allowed it in the Perlis case.

  The tone of Perlis’s notes and why he was committing the crimes could fit Damien’s life. Her greatest regret from that case was ever thinking her brother-in-law could be responsible for any of it. He’d come close to losing his life because of her assumptions.

  “Hey, honey,” Keegan said sleepily.

  “Hey.” She stripped her pants and shirt off and tossed them into the hamper. Her habit of leaving them on the floor had caused a long discussion two weeks after she’d moved in. “Open up for me before I take a shower and join you for a nap.”

  Keegan opened her mouth and closed it around the thermometer with a smile. The glance at her watch said she had enough time, and she took it out and read the digital window. “Thanks for being here for this. It’s stupid, but I didn’t want to do it alone,” Keegan said.

  “Wouldn’t have missed it. You’re running a little warm.”

  “You’re sitting here naked, so of course I’m running a little warm,” Keegan said and winked. “Do you want to sleep and skip the shower?”

  “Shower first, trust me, and then I have time for like an hour.” She kissed Keegan and got up to clean off.

  “Let me sit and talk to you,” Keegan said, following her in and holding her hand. “Anything you can tell me about tonight?”

  “It started bad and went quickly to horrible,” she said, adjusting the water. “When did your mom meet Carla?”

  “Strange change of subject, hon. What’s up?” Keegan raised her voice when she got under the spray.

  “I’m only curious. How’d they meet?”

  “Carla purchased a ticket for an event Gran hosts to raise money for culinary students. Part of me was excited for the instant spark since Mom had been alone so long.” Keegan handed her a towel when the water shut off, her eyebrow was cocked in question. “Now spill, and you can, no matter what it is. You know I haven’t always been the most supportive daughter, but I’m trying.”

  “I was only thinking of something, but I’m sure it’s nothing.”

  “Like what kind of nothing? She really became a part of Mom’s life, and if you’re thinking there’s some reason she shouldn’t be, you have to tell me right now,” Keegan said, holding her by the biceps.

  She explained the orisha the killer had chosen and what Julio had said about it. “I’m just tired, baby, which means you shouldn’t listen to me right now. The sticker on her car made me think of her profession and the difference between brilliant doctors of the two saints to their orisha’s counterparts.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I don’t think Carla is a vicious killer, but I do think the woman doing all this defines that difference. During her normal life she’s most probably respected, but in the role of Hunter she can leave all that behind and indulge a part of herself not everyone has, much less understands.” Sept quickly dried off and put her arms around Keegan. “Believe me, if I thought Carla was dangerous, I’d take her out. You know I love your mom, and her safety is important to me.”

  Keegan nodded against her chest and exhaled deeply. “Who was killed?”

  “Two attorneys, Gretchen Harrison and Roger Smith,” she said, and Keegan held on to her tighter. “Do you know them?”

  “Gretchen was a lunch regular, so I know her from that. I don’t know the guy.”

  “There should’ve been three victims, but we got there in time. We found Chloe Johnson alive, and that was a relief since she’s the partner of our new team member, Jennifer.”

  Keegan had glanced up at her and opened her mouth when Sept’s phone rang. “Do they think you can be awake twenty-four-seven?” The question held some heat, but she went and got it for her.

  “Savoie.”

  “Sept,” Gustave said, sounding as beat as she was. “I just left the precinct, and a message came in for you last night. I thought you’d want to know. The crap from Harrison’s office happened, so it got lost in the shuffle.”

  “What is it?”

  “Gretchen called you, and if Gavin’s time of death is right, it was an hour to forty-five minutes before she died.”

  “What was the message?” Their last conversation might’ve sparked Gretchen to finally do the right thing.

  “She wanted you to call her because it was important you two talk. Do you think there might be something in her office that’ll clue you in?”

  “If there is, the firm won’t let us search. Gretchen and Roger might be gone, but their firm is still responsible for Perlis in court.” She sat on the bed and smiled when Keegan sat pressed against her. “This might be a more finesse thing. Give me a couple of hours, and I’ll make an appointment with the managing partners.”

  “Get some sleep, and let me know if you need anything from me.”

  “Thanks.” She lay back and took Keegan with her and told her about the call.

  “Close your eyes and go to sleep,” Keegan said, cuddling up to her.

  “Your temperature’s up, and you don’t want to practice?” she asked, squeezing Keegan’s butt.

  “I love the way you commit to practice, but you need to sleep.”

  “And the way you inspire my practicing trumps anything
and everything.” She squeezed harder. It didn’t take long, and as she drifted off to sleep she thought about her love for Keegan and how Gretchen’s chance of being this happy was gone.

  What had Gretchen done to draw the attention of a killer?

  * * *

  Hunter had walked to the nearest bus stop once the driver who’d allowed her escape was dead, but after thirty minutes of waiting, she started toward downtown on foot. It was the driver’s own fault for lingering around the piece-of-crap vehicle after he’d parked it. She was too close to the finish line to leave a potentially devastating witness alive.

  It would be a long walk back to her sanctuary, and she stayed vigilant for patrol vehicles that might stop a lone walker at this hour. This was the closest any opponent had come to catching her, and it solidified her decision.

  The cool air was glorious after all her running around that damn building, so she didn’t mind the distance she had left to go. “I have to think of what tipped Savoie off before I was done,” she said, still baffled by how fast Savoie had arrived. “You’re so good, I almost want to extend the game,” she said of Sept, “but we can’t take any more stupid chances.”

  The night hadn’t followed the plan at all, but it had been thrilling. Only her intellect had saved her, and her experience under pressure had kept her eerily calm throughout the whole thing. She’d been lucky, so she needed to quell the temptations that warred in her to keep playing with Savoie. It was time to end the game by taking the main player off the board.

  “Only one more, and we move on. It’s time to kill Sept Savoie and be done with it.”

  Chapter Thirty-two

  “You really need more sleep,” Keegan said as they both got ready for work.

  “I agree with you, but I have to go convince some lawyers to give me something they’d rather die than allow me.” Sept buttoned her shirt and tucked it in, with Keegan’s help, which made her smile. “I’ll do my best to finish early and be waiting when you get home.”

  “Try to call me so you don’t make me insane.”

  “I will, and you have a good day.” She stopped and picked up Nathan to head back to Gretchen’s office.

  The parking garage was still closed, and a majority of the businesses had elected to keep their people at home until everyone with a badge gave them a 100 percent promise the building was completely safe. Gustave’s call earlier had told her that the managing partners had come in to assess their office space and Gretchen’s permanent absence from their firm.

  “Detective Savoie.” The silver-haired man who introduced himself as Walton Waters shook her hand, and she realized Waters was the first name in the string of them on the door. “Do you have any leads? This can’t go unpunished.”

  “You might be able to help me with that,” she said, and all the partners leaned in. “Gretchen was a friend, and catching her killer is important enough to me to ask for something I realize won’t be well received.”

  “Whatever you need, we’ll do it,” another older man said.

  “I need to search Gretchen’s office.”

  All the partners shook their heads like they’d practiced uniformity. “Anything but that, Detective. You realize she was working on the Perlis case, and you going through those files would spell total malpractice on our part. We cared for Gretchen deeply, but our obligation to our client is paramount.”

  “Therein lies our conundrum, gentlemen. Gretchen called me right before her death, and I need to know why. It was urgent I call her back, and I think it was because she connected something from the Perlis case to the copycat murders we’re investigating now.” She flattened her hands on the conference table and gazed at each of them. “It’s important to our case, and I came here first before getting a subpoena. All I need is access to her assistant, a member of Perlis’s legal team, and an idea of what’s on her desk.”

  “Could you give us a minute?” Walton asked.

  Sept recognized Jennifer’s father, David Shultz, coming in and extended her hand, but he ignored it and hugged her. “Whatever you need ever, it’s yours. Thank you for saving Chloe and, in turn, my child from the pain it would’ve left her with.”

  “Thank you, sir, and you can help me right now.” She explained what she needed and why. David didn’t say anything else and entered the conference room. The door opened five minutes later after the screaming had subsided, and Walton invited her back in.

  “Fred Peller and Gretchen’s assistant will help you go through the contents of the office. Ask as many question as you want, but try to stay clear of anything having to do with privilege,” Walton said. “We want to cooperate and thank you for not turning this into a legal battle.”

  “Are Mr. Peller and the assistant here?” The quicker they did this, the better.

  “Fred’s already in there, and we called the assistant.”

  The young man sitting at Gretchen’s desk appeared distraught, but he wiped his face and stood when he noticed them. “Mr. Peller. Thank you for your help.”

  “Anything,” Fred said, waving to Nathan to close the door. “I’ll do anything to catch this animal. Gretchen was my mentor, and I was supposed to stay last night, but I had a date. Roger filled in for me.”

  “Do you have any clue why Gretchen called me last night? It was right before she was killed.”

  “She didn’t mention anything, but let’s see.” He sat back down and flipped through all the files. “We’re working exclusively on Perlis right now.” He stacked all the ones he’d checked to the side.

  “Anything new on that? I mean anything you can share?”

  He shook his head but seemed to be thinking more than refusing to answer. “Alex just recently started talking to Gretchen but not saying anything that would help our case. It makes me wonder…”

  She glanced at Nathan, and he shrugged. “Wonder what?”

  “Gretchen recently got close to that writer Nicole Voles, and Nicole convinced her to let her visit Alex alone. Supposedly it was to do research for the book, but if Alex never said anything, why keep going back?” He kept searching as he spoke, which made Sept think back to Larry Nobles.

  The cop who’d sold information to Nicole was in solitary for his own safety in central lockup, but he’d refused to talk to her. Maybe it was time for another visit. “Do you know if Ms. Voles ever told Gretchen about those visits?”

  “Not that I know of,” Fred said, and his voice trailed off again.

  “Fred, whatever it is, it won’t go any further than this room. You have our word,” she said.

  “Gretchen was always professional,” he said hesitantly. “This case, though, started like that, but then Voles arrived. It was the first time I’d ever seen Gretchen not exactly do anything unethical, but bend her normal rules to please Voles.”

  “And it was like that until last night?”

  “I got an email from her early last night telling me to review the case and implement what she and Roger were working on. She didn’t say what, but the tone of her writing was different—it was like she was pissed about something.”

  “Is Voles still visiting Perlis?” Nathan asked before she could.

  “As far as I know. She’s hot to write this book and ever more anxious to help us however she could.”

  “Did Gretchen restrict his visitors?” she asked.

  “Yes, since a bunch of reporters and sickos want to talk to him. Access is limited to us and Ms. Voles.”

  Nathan took his phone out and called the jail when she gazed at him. It was a short conversation. “Ms. Voles’s name was removed yesterday afternoon.”

  Fred appeared as surprised as she was. “Shit,” Fred said. “I have no idea why she’d do that.”

  “Can you access her email?” she asked, and Fred shook his head more firmly this time.

  “I can, but I’m going to have to call our IT guy to unlock it. No one has Gretchen’s password but her.”

  “Phone him, and then call me back when you’re in.
” She took out her card and handed it over. “The answer we need might be in there, so please make it a priority.”

  “Don’t worry. I’m on it.”

  “One more thing.” She was picking up on something and wanted to be sure. “What’s your impression of Nicole Voles?”

  “She seems nice enough, but something’s off there.”

  “Thanks for your honesty, Fred, and I totally agree.”

  * * *

  Nicole sat at her small desk and tapped her fingers on the keys but didn’t actually strike any. The news had reported the murders from the night before, and it had left her restless. She stared at the phone when it rang and contemplated not answering it, but talking to someone might pull her out of the funk she was in.

  “Have you fallen in a swamp?” Gwen asked. “I haven’t heard from you, and you haven’t sent any more sheets. The publisher called this morning and needs an update.”

  “I should’ve gone with my first instinct and not answered.” The place was quiet since her father had gone out but hadn’t told her where. “I’ve been busy with research, which means I don’t have anything other than what I sent you to look at. That means stall the publisher.”

  “Are you okay?” Gwen sounded softer. “Do you want me to come down and help?”

  “Not yet, and Daddy’s still here. Anything new aside from the deadline warnings?” She stood and walked to the window. As excited as she was about the new book, she needed to get out of this city.

  “I’ve got everything under control and look forward to seeing you. This place is dull without you.”

  “It’s Malibu, darling. Go to the beach or something.” Her attention went from the river to the street below. The guy walking on the opposite side of her building looked familiar.

  She stepped back some but kept her eyes on him. He stopped at a dark SUV and got in the driver’s side, but then the vehicle sat there. Had he been there that morning? “I’m sorry. What?”

  “Do you want me to send you this month’s numbers? Are you sure you’re okay?”