L.A.P.D. Special Investigations Series, Boxed Set: The Deceived, The Taken & The Silent

by Style, Linda

  He smiled, but said nothing, apparently waiting for her to continue.

  “My father thought it would harm his political aspirations. No one knows. My grandparents don’t even know.”

  His hand was warm and calming — and there was no judgment in his eyes, only compassion. He reached up and brushed her cheek. “That’s a big secret to be carrying for so long.”

  After a deep breath, she said, “It was for the best.”

  His steady gaze said he didn’t believe her. “Who’s it best for, Macy?”

  A knot twisted in her gut. She edged away from him and pulled her hand back…snatched up the coffee and took another long drink. It was stone cold, but she drank it anyway.

  Rico didn’t need all the details on how she’d gotten pregnant or by whom. None of that…heartache mattered anymore. It certainly had no bearing on what she wanted to know now. “Well, you have the information you wanted,” she said. “What are you going to do with it?”

  “I’m not going to scoop it to the National Enquirer if that’s what you’re asking. I’ll do what I said. More research.”

  Even though it wasn’t warranted, she felt a sense of relief. Rico was a professional. He went by the book. It’s why she’d felt she could tell him the truth. How ironic. His inflexibility, the part of him she disliked so much, also worked in his favor. “No, that’s not what I was asking. I wanted to know the next step, that’s all.”

  “I’ll get more information, and if it fits with my case, I’ll try to get a search warrant for the records.”

  Finally.

  “But a cold case won’t be first on anyone’s priority list.”

  “Well, it’s a start.” They both rested against the bench. “So,” she said. “What personal stuff did you want to talk to me about?”

  He tilted his head toward her. “I think we’ve talked about enough personal stuff. Don’t you?”

  Nodding, she agreed. There was no reason to talk about what happened in the elevator. The whole incident would be better forgotten. She reached into her purse for a her keys and saw the manila envelope. “Oh, there is one other thing.” She pulled out the envelope and then the contents. “I found this inside my door last night.”

  As he read, she saw his body visibly tense.

  “Do you have any idea who sent this?” He scowled.

  “Not a clue.”

  “I’m going to have to keep this and get it to the lab to check for fingerprints. If they get a match, we can run it through AFIS, the automated fingerprint identification system.”

  “I wasn’t careful when I opened it, so my prints will be on it, too.”

  “Mine will be, too,” he said. “But neither of us will be on file in AFIS.” He grinned, looked at her from under his brows. “At least I won’t.”

  She gave up another smile.

  “Are you sure you don’t know anyone who’d send something like this? People who do this kind of thing usually have a reason.”

  “I know the reason. He wants me to stay away from something, but I don’t know what?”

  “Are you working on a case that might be threatening to someone?”

  She thought about the Joffrey case. A whole lot of people might be threatened. The health plan, the surgeon, the staff at the hospital. Maybe a few ex-husbands of women she’d represented in divorce proceedings…or women whose exes she’d represented. “I’m always working on a case that might be threatening to someone. Right now, I have several pending and not everyone on both sides is happy, but I work attorney to attorney. Unless I interview someone, I don’t often have direct contact with opposing counsel’s clients until we get to court.”

  “Any personal situations? Is there anyone who might be affected by what they believe you to be doing.”

  “If you mean jealous exes, no. I haven’t dated anyone recently, so there’s nothing to be jealous of.”

  “Until now.”

  She frowned. “Now?”

  “You invited me to dinner with your parents. That’s a date.”

  Macy laughed. “I didn’t invite you and it wasn’t a date.”

  Rico’s hand went to his chest as if she’d just stabbed him. “No? What was it?”

  “Dinner with a friend. Don’t make it into anything more than that.”

  “Close friends, I’d say.”

  He was referring to the elevator. “Like I said, don’t make it into something more than it was.”

  He held up both hands, a sexy grin still plastered on his face. “Okay. I’m cool. Friends it is.”

  She couldn’t help the laugh that escaped. He had an uncanny ability to lighten a serious moment in seconds. More than once, he’d made her laugh, and she couldn’t remember when she’d been so spontaneous. She couldn’t remember when she’d felt such physical passion with someone, either. Remembering the elevator, desire, hot and quick, pulled low in her belly. “Are we done now, so I can get back to work?” She stood.

  “Not really.” He rose with her. “But we can come back to the rest later.”

  As she started to leave, he caught her by the shoulder.

  “Be careful. Okay?” He held up the manila envelope. “People who do this kind of thing are usually a little off balance to start with.”

  ***

  It’s for the best. Why did Macy think hiding her past was best? Rico knew what secrets could do to a person. He got up from his desk and headed for the door.

  But he only knew part of Macy’s story. He didn’t know what circumstances had brought her to Haven’s Gate, pregnant at seventeen. But that wasn’t any of his business, either. She’d only told him so he would help her get some answers.

  Oddly, he wanted to help her get them. A lot. Problem was, he didn’t know if he could get them if it didn’t have anything to do with his investigation.

  Still thinking as he exited to head for the police garage, he nearly bumped into Luke who was just arriving.

  “Yo,” Rico said.

  “Hey,” Luke answered. “What’s hot?”

  “Not much. Same old. How about you? I hear you’ve got a political hot potato.”

  Luke gave a snort of a laugh. “Yeah. That and all the crap that comes with it.”

  “You’re complaining? I’d give up my beer night to get a case like that. Money, power, politics, corruption, a sex scandal. What more could a guy want?”

  Luke laughed harder. “It’s becoming more of a pain than anything. A homicide without a body…well, you know what that’s like. Besides which, not too many congressmen like being investigated.”

  “Threats?”

  “A couple.”

  “Seriously?”

  Luke ran a hand through his sandy hair, which looked as if he’d combed it with a weed whacker. Rico remembered when Luke had been one of the best-dressed detectives around, giving up little ground to anyone except Jordan. Now, on most days, Luke looked as though he’d just rolled out of bed.

  “Nothing I can’t handle.”

  Rico knew that was true. Luke was one of the best detectives on the force. He’d had a bad time of it after his divorce, but he was back now.

  Moving to leave, Rico clapped Luke on the shoulder. “We’re doin’ a meet at the bar later. You coming?”

  “Sure. If I can make it.”

  With that, they went separate directions, Rico to the parking garage and Luke into the bull pen. Reaching the department-issue sedan he’d picked up from the shop earlier that morning, Rico realized he only had a couple hours before state offices closed for the day and decided to call ahead, first the department of licensure and second, Vital stats. After telling the clerks what he needed and when he’d be there, he climbed into the vehicle and shoved the key into the ignition.

  About to turn the key, he saw a package wrapped in brown paper on the floor on the passenger’s side.

  “Fuck,” he gasped out and simultaneously rocketed from the car and dove for cover — far enough away to be safe if it blew, but close enough to see if any
one else came by so he could warn them. His heart pounded wildly. His breath came in short gasps. Hands shaking, he punched dispatch. “Adam five, code 10 in the house garage…headquarters, second level.”

  The package hadn’t been in the vehicle when he’d brought it back from meeting with Macy. Someone must’ve placed it during the past hour.

  Less than three minutes passed before the bomb squad swarmed the place. Tension filled the air as the lead officer, Danny Chilton, directed the job using a new SAPBER robot, which could safely dismantle the bomb while still retaining the forensics necessary to track down its maker.

  Normally Rico would be fascinated by the machine and the process, completed in what seemed like record time, but this was personal, and any fascination he might’ve had was eclipsed by myriad emotions. He clenched his hands into fists.

  Coming over to Rico after the bomb was dismantled, Chilton said, “Got yourself a pipe bomb. Not a lethal one, but meant to hurt someone.”

  Two threats, one directed at Macy and the other at him. Warnings?

  Rico went through the usual Q and A with Officer Chilton and gave him a list of recent arrests in which the suspects had threatened him. He rarely took those threats seriously because incarceration was usually in the suspect’s future.

  After the reports were filed, he went back inside to report in with Captain Carlyle.

  “What aren’t you telling me, Santini?”

  An imposing black man who hovered at about six-four, the captain ruled his crew with an iron hand. Not much got by him.

  “I wish I knew.”

  “Some husband after you?”

  “I don’t go with married women. Hell, I don’t even date. Not since that… not since Angelica.”

  “You think it was her?”

  “No. She moved away after her arrest for stalking the other guy on her list.”

  “She could’ve come back. She didn’t like you testifying against her.”

  “Yeah. It’s worth checking out.”

  “What else?”

  “I don’t know.” The Ray case wasn’t priority to anyone but Rico. “But if I’m ruffling feathers, that’s good. It means I’m getting close to something.”

  A phone call interrupted them. “Make sure those guys get that stuff down to CSU,” Carlyle said before answering. “And watch your back.”

  “It’s done.” Rico was relieved the captain hadn’t pressed him any further.

  Before he was out the door, though, Carlyle stopped him again. With his hand over the phone he said, “If you get anything on the Ray case, let me know.”

  Rico grinned. Smart guy.

  CHAPTER NINE

  SOMETHING WAS WRONG. Macy heard the tenseness in Rico’s voice when he’d called this morning and said he had to talk to her. She pulled into the public parking at the LAPD headquarters where the Detective Bureau was located. Twice she’d gone to see him now. Visiting Rico was becoming a habit.

  When she walked into the room Rico looked up and called her over.

  “This better be good,” she said as she reached his desk. “I have to be in court in an hour.” A couple officers sitting nearby were gawking at her. Maybe she should have hung a shroud over the red dress she’d worn to impress the jurors.

  “Follow me,” Rico said, giving the other detectives the evil eye. “So we can have a little privacy.”

  She followed him toward one of the interrogation rooms, liking his confident gait, his broad shoulders. He looked good today, his black shirt and jacket dressier than normal. “I know I didn’t break the law, so this has to be about something else.” The small room reeked of stale tobacco that clogged in the back of her throat, making it hard to talk.

  “Sit. Please.”

  She did as he requested, her anticipation building. It had to be something important for him to ask her to come in rather than telling her over the phone, or wait until evening when she was done with work.

  “I went through the public birth and death records for the dates you mentioned.”

  “And you found—”

  He held up a hand. “Let me finish.”

  Like her, he apparently didn’t like being interrupted. She smiled. “Okay.”

  “Have you ever seen your son’s death certificate?”

  A strange question. “My parents took care of all that. My father.”

  He looked puzzled, shoved his hands in the pockets of his khaki pants, as if unsure what to say next.

  “There was no death certificate on file for your son.”

  She blinked. Then blinked again. “What are you saying?”

  “I’m not saying anything except that I didn’t find a death certificate for the date you gave me. All deaths are registered with vital stats. Maybe it was never entered into the computer, or someone failed to file the record properly….” Rico shrugged. “Bottom line, it’s just not there.”

  Macy launched to her feet, then paced as far as she could in the tiny room that was bereft of anything except the gray metal table, the two chairs and a dirty ashtray.

  “I found the death certificate for the stillborn baby of the day before. Haven’s Gate was listed as the place of death and Dr. Dixon was the attending physician who signed the certificate.”

  “Carla’s baby.” She glanced at him quickly.

  “It’s probably a simple clerical error, but I thought you should know.”

  “And how will we find out if it was?”

  “More research.”

  “What if it wasn’t a clerical error, but something else?”

  “Like?”

  “Like maybe the shelter didn’t file the death certificate because…they did something wrong.” She stopped. Took a deep breath. The thought that negligence might have been responsible for her son’s death was horrible. Anything else was even worse.

  Rico nodded. “I’ve learned not to speculate. If your father took care of things, he should have a copy of the death certificate.”

  “Right.” But would he even talk to her? “We’re not exactly on good speaking terms.”

  “Are you going to look at the shelter’s records to see if they filed the death report?”

  “You know the answer to that. I’d have to get a warrant to look at their records from that time, and I’d have to have probable cause and rule out any administrative errors before that. Considering the amount of paperwork that department processes, the likelihood of a mistake is overwhelming.”

  He was right, of course. Probably clerical error. But that didn’t make her feel any better. “You could say it’s about the Ray case and get a warrant to look at their files.”

  He stood there for a moment, silent, his brows forming a deep V. “No, I can’t. Because it isn’t about the Ray case.”

  She nibbled on her bottom lip. That’s what she thought. “Okay. So what’s next?”

  “Rule out error. That’s all I can do right now.”

  Macy squared her shoulders. “Okay. But it’s not all I can do.”

  Rico’s frown deepened. “What do you mean?”

  “Nothing.” She went to the door and yanked it open. “Nothing that concerns you.”

  “If it involves the law, it concerns me.” He paused, shoved both hands in his pockets, then looked at her, his brown eyes softening. “If it involves you, it concerns me.”

  Macy’s heart tripped a little. Concerned about her? Or did he mean he was concerned about what she might do? Whatever, it was obvious if she wanted an answer soon, she’d have to get it herself. “I—I’m sorry,” she said, turned and rushed from the room.

  Rico cursed as he watched Macy leave. Dammit. He wanted to help her, but he couldn’t—not the way she wanted him to. Apparently she was used to barreling ahead, all guns blazing, but that wasn’t how things worked at the department. If he didn’t follow procedure, any evidence he collected would be worth squat. Macy should know that as well as he did. She could screw up everything.

  The more he looked into Haven’s Gate, t
he more he believed there was a cover-up of some kind. Only the justice system didn’t run on gut feelings and he’d have to have a damned good reason to look at records from so long ago. A missing death certificate didn’t cut it.

  Five years ago, the clinic had threatened to file a lawsuit against the department for harassment because he’d been so dogged on the Ray investigation. He’d been thrown off the case and was a hair’s breath from demotion. He wasn’t going to do that again. If there was something to find now, they’d go through the right channels to find it.

  And the truth would come out.

  ***

  MACY SWUNG HER CAR into the parking lot at Haven’s Gate, myriad memories playing like a B movie in her head. If the death of her child was caused by negligence, she couldn’t let it go. Not even twelve years later. Not even if the information exposed her past.

  Hundreds of children had been born at Haven’s Gate. How many of them had been at risk? How many had met the same fate as her son?

  The one-level building looked much the same as when she’d stayed there. The exterior had been freshly painted in adobe brown, a drab color for a sad place. Most parents looked forward to the birth of a child, but here it was different. With the exception of a few girls who couldn’t wait to have the ordeal over with, most she’d met had mixed emotions about giving up their child. The nurses doled out cheery platitudes and counseled the girls on how their choice was the noble thing to do and because of their unselfishness, their child would have a wonderful life with loving people financially able to care for them.

  In theory, it was probably true, but when she thought about it now, she remembered how persuasive those counseling sessions were—how some girls felt pressured to give up their babies since they’d received help from the center. They believed they had no other choice. A knot twisted in her stomach. Damn. She’d tried to put all of that in the past because it seemed the only way she could live with it. But there wasn’t a day that went by that something didn’t remind her of the child she’d so desperately wanted to keep.

  Swallowing a hard lump in her throat, she gathered her things, exited the car, slung her briefcase over one shoulder and put on her court face.