by Karen Rose
‘Did DJ run a background?’
‘He did. She’s squeaky clean.’
‘No cop is squeaky clean. I’ll have Sean do some deeper checking, see what he can find. Why are Bishop and O’Bannion in Loveland?’
‘I have no idea,’ Demetrius said, sounding puzzled. ‘They came to an animal shelter. It’s called Patrick’s Place.’
‘An animal shelter? O’Bannion’s adopting a dog?’
‘I don’t know. It didn’t appear that they were there on any case-related business, though. I think they’re . . . involved. O’Bannion woulda had his tongue down her throat in another few seconds if the lady they were visiting hadn’t come out on the front porch.’
‘Shit,’ Ken muttered. ‘A cop and a reporter. Together.’ It was a bad combination.
‘That’s what I thought. We take him out and she’ll come after us and then it’ll be so long to a low profile. Unless we take them together. What do we know about the Anderses? What’s O’Bannion’s link to them? How did O’Bannion find out about the girl he met in that alley?’
‘I’ll find out. I’ve still got the three Anders in the basement.’ Ken glanced at the security monitor on the counter. All three of his captives were trying to escape their bonds. Which would accomplish nothing more than marking their skin with rope burn. They would not break free of Ken’s knots. ‘The mother is the lynchpin holding them together. Chip and little Stephanie will tell me what I want to know once she’s incapacitated. Stephanie knows something, but she’s holding on to it because Chip believes someone will soon miss them and go to the cops.’
‘Someone who?’
‘Maybe the poodle’s handler – you know, for dog shows – but we’re not certain of that. Decker just left here to make sure no one was hiding in Anders’s house. He would have gone sooner, but it seems that Chip’s bullet did a lot more damage to our guard than he originally thought. Took him quite a while to get the guy stitched up.’
‘Do we need to switch places? You can pull in O’Bannion and Bishop. I can get answers out of the Anderses.’
‘I think I can manage,’ Ken said dryly. ‘The Anderses are just a bit more stubborn than most. I hooked Marlene up to my shock box, but none of them broke. I gave them a breather to let them stew while I was taking care of Miriam.’
A short silence, followed by a sigh. ‘Reuben’s wife knew about us?’
‘Oh yeah. She trusted Burton enough to come with him willingly, but when she saw where he’d brought her, she started scratching at him, trying to make him let her go. She screamed that she didn’t want to have anything to do with the devil who had corrupted her husband. She ripped up the wounds that Marlene put on his face and cut a few new gouges of her own. So I made her some tea, laced with enough sedative to take out a moose.’
‘She drank it? After drugging Jason Jackson, she really drank something you gave her?’
‘Not voluntarily, but my knife at her throat convinced her to accept my hospitality. She settled down quickly, told me what I basically wanted to know and fell asleep. Burton’s taking her and her car to a cheap motel. He’ll dump her in a room and write an appropriately passive-aggressive email to Reuben on her phone, saying she didn’t want the kids to come home from school and find her body. Then he’ll leave her car at the motel. If Reuben had trackers put on his own vehicles like Burton says he did, and if he’s still alive, then he’ll find her car and her body soon enough. Fireworks to come, complete with Reuben’s wailing and gnashing of teeth.’
‘What did she tell you?’
‘That I was a perverted bastard who had seduced her husband into my perversions,’ Ken said. ‘She said that her PI was on to us too. I told her that her PI was already dead. That made her a little more cooperative. Burton pulled her laptop and searched her email. She’d documented what she knew and emailed it to herself. It didn’t appear that she’d sent it to anyone else. I suppose she wanted to be able to access it from anywhere in the event that she had to run or we stole her computer. She’d been through Reuben’s files that he’d locked away. She’d made a duplicate set of keys. She claimed not to have killed him, though. But she was losing lucidity pretty fast by that point.’
‘Has Sean got any leads on where Reuben and Jackson could be?’
‘None,’ Ken said. ‘No credit card usage, no plane or bus tickets purchased or cars rented. He’ll keep looking. He’s checking all the aliases Reuben’s used in the past.’
‘And if Reuben’s come up with a new alias that we don’t know about?’
It was certainly possible. Ken had several that his team didn’t know about. Just in case he had to run quickly. ‘Then we hope he trusts Burton enough to contact him. I have the only uninjured member of Reuben’s team following Burton.’
‘To make sure he actually dumps Miriam in a motel room like you told him to?’
‘Yes. They have history, Burton and Miriam. I’m not sure if it’s because he knew her back when he and Reuben were with Knoxville PD, or if they’ve gotten cozy recently. But also so that Burton will have a way back. His next task is to search Reuben’s car that I had towed.’
‘We still sending someone up to New York to follow the girl Reuben was banging?’
‘I don’t think I will. We’re running too thin in the security department. If he’s on his way to see the girl, at least he’ll be busy for a while and out of our business. If he’s left the country, Sean has the best chance of tracking him. And if he’s dead, then the problem is solved.’
‘Idiot,’ Demetrius muttered. ‘Couldn’t keep his dick zipped. What about the other two trackers that were disabled at the Anderses’?’
‘The daughter claims to have done it, but I don’t believe her. I’m about to go downstairs and give it another go. I’m not going to waste much more time on them. Especially now that we know that O’Bannion’s cozied up to a homicide detective. Dealing with them is going to be the most important thing. Did you get the gun?’
‘Yes. Anders’s girl was shot with a Ruger P89.’
‘I’ll have Decker check Anders’s gun cabinet while he’s there, to see if it looks like anything of that caliber is either missing or has been recently fired.’
‘He should look for the ammo. The Ruger was loaded with Black Talons.’
‘Huh. You don’t see BTs very often anymore except with collectors. Chip did have an extensive armory. Stands to reason he’d collect ammo too. Where did you find BTs?’
‘In my collection. I bought ’em back in the nineties, when everyone thought they were armor-piercing cop-killers. But it wasn’t true,’ he added in a dejected tone that made Ken grin.
But Ken sobered abruptly as he was struck by a thought. ‘Wait a minute. How did O’Bannion walk away from being shot at that range by hollow-point bullets?’
‘He was wearing Kevlar,’ Demetrius said.
Ken narrowed his eyes. ‘Really? Sonofabitch went in prepared. He knew the girl was trouble. How did he know?’
‘Does it matter? Once I kill him, he can’t tell anyone else whatever it is that he knows.’
‘He knew enough to track her to that alley. I told Decker to go into the office and listen to the audio feed from the girl’s tracker after he’s done checking out the Anders house, but knowing O’Bannion’s out there with a cop, I don’t want to wait that long. I’ll have Sean get started on it right now. O’Bannion may have already told people what he knows.’
‘Especially that brother of his,’ Demetrius muttered. ‘Goddamn troublemaker.’
‘No argument there. But even if he didn’t tell his brother, he could have told Bishop.’
‘I thought of that when I saw them together. So they both have to go?’
He sounded so hopeful that Ken chuckled. ‘Yes, Demetrius. Both O’Bannion and Bishop have to go. The brother too, just in case. But you can’t leave any bullets behind in any of the bodies.’
‘Got it. So who did kill that girl in the alley? Anders?’
‘No, I
don’t think Chip or Marlene knew she’d gotten out. They paid for her. I doubt they’d risk their investment. But the daughter – Stephanie – knows what happened.’ Ken glanced at the security monitor. The eyes of all three Anderses were closed, exhaustion lining their faces. ‘Looks like they’re taking a nap. Time to wake them up and finish this.’
‘I’ll call you when I’ve taken care of O’Bannion. After that, his brother.’
‘Stone,’ Ken murmured, remembering all too well the newspaper headline with Stone O’Bannion’s byline – High school teacher found with kiddie porn stash. He, Demetrius and Reuben had needed to do some fast cleanup, taking risks they never would have taken had the O’Bannion brothers not come so close. ‘Make those O’Bannion boys hurt. A lot.’
‘Don’t worry,’ Demetrius said quietly. ‘I will.’
Cincinnati, Ohio
Tuesday 4 August, 12.15 P.M.
Delores Kaminsky was indeed a hugger, Marcus thought as he was dragged down into the petite woman’s embrace. And she was far stronger than she looked. He patted her back awkwardly as she held on hard.
Finally she let go and rocked back on her heels to look up at him with a smile that made him smile back. ‘It is very nice to meet you, Marcus.’
About thirty-five, she had china-blue eyes, porcelain skin and short blond curls. Standing no more than five feet tall, she resembled one of the antique dolls Audrey had collected as a girl. The enormous dog that had been watching him like a hawk since they’d approached curled up at her feet, apparently welcoming him as well.
‘Likewise, Delores. I understand that I’m the last O’Bannion sibling to have the honor of meeting you.’
Her bright blue eyes twinkled. ‘Well, we were both busy there for a few months, what with ICU and rehab. I’ll forgive you this time. Besides, you’re here now and you’ve brought my favorite homicide detective, so all is forgiven.’ She leaned up on her toes to whisper loudly, ‘But next time, kiss her, okay? I think it’d sweeten her up.’
From the corner of his eye he saw Scarlett’s cheeks darkening from bright pink to an even brighter red. Marcus suspected his own cheeks were a bit red too. ‘If I’d known that Stone brought you flowers and candy,’ he said, ‘I’d have brought you something even better. Purely in the spirit of sibling rivalry, of course.’
‘Better than flowers and candy? How is that even possible?’ She threw a grin in Scarlett’s direction, undeterred when the detective scowled back. ‘You’re gonna have your hands full with this charmer, Scarlett.’
‘I’d rather have my hands filled with evidence,’ Scarlett said brusquely.
Delores laughed. ‘Oh dear. Detective Bishop is giving us the I’ve-got-better-things-to-do-with-my-time look, so come on. I’ve got the video set up on my computer. Angel, with me,’ she said, and the enormous dog was instantly at her side. ‘Don’t worry,’ she added as an aside to Marcus as they started walking – very slowly – toward a room off the kitchen. ‘Scarlett does that look when she really wants to laugh but doesn’t want anyone to know.’
Marcus glanced over his shoulder at Scarlett, who trailed them with her arms folded tight over her chest. ‘Is that true, Detective?’
Scarlett glared. ‘No.’
Marcus turned back with a snort, following Delores into a room that, underneath all the empty dog cages and bags of kibble, was probably her office. ‘Sorry,’ she said, flicking her hand dismissively. ‘I have enough energy to either take care of my animals or clean. It’s obvious which one wins every day.’ She pointed to the behemoth of a computer sitting on her desk. ‘It’s on the screen. All you have to do is push play.’
‘Holy crap, Delores,’ Scarlett exclaimed. ‘How old is this PC?’
‘I don’t know. Four years, maybe five? I bought it used.’
Scarlett tentatively inspected the CRT monitor with its bulky rear section. ‘Do you have some weird sentimental attachment to antiques?’
Delores’s lips twitched. ‘No, I have a sentimental attachment to my money. I can pay for a new computer or buy food for fifteen dogs for a month. The computer still works and that’s the important thing. Now sit in the chair and watch the video.’
Scarlett met Marcus’s eyes and pointed to the chair. ‘You’re the one who’s seen the dog. You should watch it.’
He obeyed, dropping into the chair with a wince. The chair was far older than the computer system and very uncomfortable. Delores obviously ran her shelter on a shoestring budget. It made him wonder how much money Audrey had been able to raise and what Delores had done with it. He suspected his answer lay in the bags of dog food stacked floor to ceiling.
He jiggled the mouse, disrupting the dog and cat screen saver and revealing the video Delores had loaded. He hit PLAY, then stiffened when Scarlett leaned in to watch over his shoulder, the scent of wildflowers filling his head once again.
An outdoor ring filled the screen, empty except for a few people wearing ribbons, identifying them as judges. The camera panned the onlookers, gathered in groups around the ring’s perimeter.
‘Not what I was expecting,’ Scarlett murmured. ‘I thought they’d be in an arena with chairs, like on TV.’
‘Those are national benched dog shows. This is a regular show,’ Delores said. ‘It was hosted by one of the local clubs in Indiana about two years ago. When the shows are held close by like that, just about all the local show dogs enter. I went because one of my clients entered her standard, but that was a male, so not the dog you’re looking for. If the dog you’re looking for is local and young, there’s a decent possibility that it was entered. It’s definitely show quality.’
‘You started this midway through the video,’ Marcus said. ‘Why?’
‘Because all the stuff leading up to it is categories you don’t care about, puppies and younger dogs. Okay, so here they come. There are twelve dogs in this class. Each one will take a turn around the ring, so you can watch it. You’re looking for a white female with a continental clip – that’s the most common one, with the rosettes on the hips. But you’re lucky because four of the females are either black or cream-colored and three of the dogs are male.’
Marcus blocked Scarlett out of his head, focusing solely on the dogs in the ring. He immediately eliminated two of the females as being too big. The remaining three he watched running around the ring many times before slowly eliminating one of the others, leaving two.
He looked over his shoulder in time to see Scarlett straightening so that they didn’t bump noses. ‘I can’t tell the difference between these two dogs,’ he said, ‘but they’re both close to the dog I saw in the park.’
‘Numbers 121 and 130,’ Delores said. ‘I don’t remember them, but we can check their names and owners. Forward the video to twenty-one minutes, ten seconds,’ she instructed.
Marcus paused the video on the image of a booklet opened to pages listing all the dogs in the category, with their American Kennel Club names and owners.
‘You videoed the entries list,’ he said approvingly. ‘Very smart.’
‘Not so much,’ Delores chuckled. ‘I was never organized, even before . . . well, you know. I photographed the page after each class was shown because I knew I’d lose the program. But we can get the owners’ names from here. Past this, you two are on your own.’
Scarlett placed a hand on his shoulder, leaning closer to the screen. ‘Can you blow it up a little, Marcus? I can’t read the font.’
Marcus did so, then sighed. ‘Number 121’s owners live in Chicago.’
On the next page, however, they hit pay dirt, and Scarlett hummed deep in her throat, a satisfied growl. ‘But number 130’s owner is Ms Marlene Anders, Cincinnati, Ohio, and the dog’s name is Coco.’
‘Bingo,’ Marcus said grimly, then pushed back from the desk. ‘Can we take the video file with us, Delores?’
‘Sure. We can copy it to a flash drive.’ Delores opened a drawer and pawed through the junk inside until she found a drive, then handed it to Marcus
. ‘Go for it.’
While Marcus copied the file, Scarlett called someone on her team to run a background check on Marlene Anders. When he was finished, Marcus rose from the chair and stooped down to hug Delores before she could hug him first. ‘Thank you,’ he whispered fiercely.
She hugged him back hard. ‘You’re welcome.’ She let him rise, but didn’t let him go, fisting a small hand in the fabric of his shirt. ‘I don’t know why you need this dog’s owner. But you look like you’re taking this very personally.’
He felt like he owed her an answer. ‘I am.’
‘Why?’ she pressed.
Marcus glanced at Scarlett and she shook her head.
‘You don’t need to know that, Delores,’ she murmured. ‘Trust me?’
Delores turned her head so that she met Scarlett’s eyes, her nod nearly imperceptible. Then she looked back up at Marcus, startling the hell out of him with her next words. ‘If this is about atonement, you don’t have anything to atone for in all that mess nine months ago. You were as much a victim as I was.’
He blinked at her. What the fuck? ‘Excuse me?’
‘You are riddled with guilt, Marcus O’Bannion. It’s coming off you in waves.’
Marcus glanced over at Scarlett again, a rebuke on the tip of his tongue until he saw that she was as surprised as he was.
Delores pushed on before either of them could say a word. ‘Detective Bishop has shared nothing with me about you. I don’t know anything other than that you lost your brother, Mikhail, and that you have a sister and a brother who also feel a helluva lot of survivor guilt.’
He opened his mouth to speak, but she gently patted his shoulder. ‘You do realize that they make bulletproof vests lighter than the one you’re wearing under this heavy shirt? I could feel it when I hugged you.’
He blinked again at her abrupt subject change. ‘Yes, ma’am. But my lighter one got a little . . . used this morning.’
Her smile faded. ‘I see. Well it seems you live your life very dangerously, Marcus. I was hoping you’d be a safer kind of guy so that Scarlett could relax when she wasn’t on the clock.’