by Karen Rose
The heady feeling that had filled Thorne seeped away and he sighed heavily. ‘I don’t trust either of you’ – he gestured between Hyatt and Joseph – ‘completely. However, I don’t think you’d lie or intentionally trick me.’
‘At least Joseph wouldn’t,’ Gwyn muttered.
One side of Thorne’s lip quirked before he could stop it. Focusing, he schooled his features once again. ‘I also don’t want to live with knowing that somebody I care about got hurt because I didn’t share the right information. The key ring is important. One that looks to be similar was shoved into Richard Linden’s torso. I saw it when I was trying to stop his bleeding.’
Joseph’s eyes went wary. ‘I saw the court transcripts. I don’t remember reading about a key ring.’
‘Yeah, well,’ Thorne said, ‘that’s because it disappeared.’
‘Brent Kiley is an EMT,’ Hyatt said slowly. ‘Was he one of the first responders to the Linden kid’s scene?’
Thorne had to give him credit. The man might be an asshole, but he was sharp. ‘Yes. But he doesn’t remember seeing anything.’
There was no point in saying anything else, because Kiley had promised that he would say exactly that to anyone else who asked.
‘Yet you stayed in his apartment for several minutes,’ Joseph commented. ‘So says his nosy neighbor, anyway.’
‘We did,’ Thorne confirmed, but said no more.
Joseph rolled his eyes. ‘So this is the way we’re playing it? Really, Thorne? Both Gwyn and Stevie are shot at and you’re going to make me guess the right questions to ask you?’
‘I’ve told you the one important thing that I see as a connection,’ Thorne said evenly. ‘The key ring. The one I saw on Richard Linden’s body belonged to him. Or resembled the one that belonged to him, anyway. The EMT couldn’t say where it disappeared to.’
‘Have you located Kiley’s partner?’ Joseph asked. ‘Maybe he saw it.’
Thorne considered his words. ‘When we asked Kiley if he knew where his partner was, he said he’d quit about a year after my trial. This was after a car accident in which his car was broadsided by a truck that came out of nowhere.’ He lifted his brows and Hyatt’s scowl deepened.
‘Your girlfriend at the time died the same way,’ Hyatt said reluctantly. ‘She would have been a witness. What happened to Kiley’s partner?’
Thorne shrugged. ‘He just . . . disappeared. Quit his job and never came back.’
‘We’ll start a search for him,’ Joseph said. ‘Who else was involved in handling Richard Linden’s body?’
Thorne glanced at Lucy, who’d been sitting silently at JD’s side. She was still wearing a lab coat and had probably come straight from the morgue.
Thorne dipped his head almost imperceptibly, giving his assent, and she cleared her throat. ‘I read the police report detailing the murder of Richard Linden,’ she said. ‘Richard was declared DOA in the ER. The doctor who called his death died a few years ago of a heart attack, so that’s another dead end.’ She winced a little at her unfortunate word choice. ‘Anyway, according to the report, there wasn’t much done in the ER. Richard may have been dead even before he was put in the ambulance.’
Everyone aimed a look at Thorne. ‘Was he?’ Joseph asked.
Thorne shrugged. ‘He had a pulse when I discovered him. I thought so anyway.’
‘He was convinced enough,’ Jamie said acidly, ‘to stay at Richard’s side to try to save his life, even though he knew he’d be blamed.’
Joseph met Thorne’s eyes and Thorne was momentarily struck speechless by the kindness and respect he saw there. ‘I gathered that from the court transcripts,’ Joseph said. ‘It was . . . above and beyond decency, Thorne.’
Wow. For a second, Thorne just stared. Then years of training in the art of interrogation kicked in. Joseph Carter was very good at his job. That wasn’t to say he was insincere or untruthful. But he definitely knew how to manipulate a witness.
Thorne smiled at him, allowing his amusement to show. ‘Thank you.’
Joseph held his gaze for a long moment. ‘I meant it.’
‘I know. It almost worked too.’ He sobered, reclaiming the thread of the conversation. ‘Richard had a pulse when I found him. I tried to stop the bleeding, but I was only seventeen. I’d had Red Cross first aid training because I’d been a lifeguard, but I didn’t know how to deal with a wound like that. I knew he was close to death, though. I mean, I could see his internal organs.’ He swallowed hard, remembering exactly how it had looked. How fucking scared he’d been. ‘Then the cops stormed the place and ripped me away from him. They had me cuffed and face down on the floor before I could say a word.’ Beside him, Gwyn tensed, and he glanced down at her. ‘It really did look bad,’ he murmured. ‘I was bent over him, covered in his blood. I couldn’t blame the cops for that part.’
‘I could,’ Jamie said flatly.
‘And I did,’ Phil added.
Smiling ruefully at them, Thorne returned his attention to Joseph. ‘I don’t know what happened after that with respect to Richard. I only know what I saw in those minutes that I was trying to help him. The key ring was there then. That’s what I know to be fact.’
‘I interviewed the ER doctor as part of my trial prep,’ Jamie said. ‘I asked him about the key ring, because Thorne was so adamant that he’d seen it and by then it was gone. The doctor said he didn’t do an exam. He called Richard’s time of death less than a minute after he was brought in. He deliberately hadn’t touched the body any more than necessary because he knew there would be a homicide investigation. And he said there was police presence the entire time. The cops accompanied the body to the morgue. The doctor didn’t have any more contact with the body or the Linden family.’ He looked to Lucy. ‘I also interviewed the ME. He denies having seen the key ring as well.’
‘I know the ME who did the exam,’ Lucy said. ‘He was my boss until he retired, and he was always a man of integrity, personally and professionally. His autopsy report lists no items found inside the body, and according to court transcripts, nothing meeting that description was taken into evidence by the police. That leaves the ME tech who prepared the body for autopsy as the only person left in the chain with access to Richard’s body. That tech is dead. He was killed at the scene of a shooting incident fourteen years ago.’
‘Lots of dead or missing people,’ Joseph commented. ‘What was the significance of this key ring?’
‘I don’t know,’ Thorne said truthfully. ‘It was made from a medal Richard received for soccer. As I recall, he carried a single key on it. Both key and ring were inside his body. Until they no longer were. Can you describe the key ring you found in Patricia’s wound?’
Brickman, the asshole detective still leaning against the wall, made a disagreeable sound. ‘That information is confidential,’ he said stiffly. ‘It’s part of an ongoing investigation. As are you, Mr Thorne.’
Thorne stiffened, and beside him Gwyn drew a deep breath, her cheeks darkening. She opened her mouth to say something sharp and snarky, but he squeezed her hand and gave his head a mild shake.
Joseph was giving Brickman a disapproving look, but he said nothing, probably because Brickman was Hyatt’s responsibility.
Hyatt harrumphed. ‘Not your call, Detective,’ he said, injecting the proper level of sharpness into his tone. ‘We are cooperating here. And Mr Thorne is here of his own volition. We are grateful for his help.’ He turned to Thorne. ‘Having said that, we really can’t tell you much about the key ring, but that’s because it’s being analyzed in the lab.’
Thorne nodded slowly, hoping his expression showed his disbelief. ‘I see.’
Gwyn tugged at his hand. ‘I think we should go now,’ she said. ‘They’ll never cooperate with us.’
Hyatt rolled his eyes. ‘For God’s sake. It really is being analyzed. Knowing that it might be a s
ports medal is helpful. Currently, there’s so much buildup on it, we can’t see what was inscribed. The lab will tell us what the item is when they’re finished. Jeez.’
Gwyn gave him a narrow-eyed nod. ‘Thank you. That is cooperation.’
Another eyeroll from Hyatt. ‘Now, what would be even more cooperative is if you tell us who you suspect is behind this.’
Thorne drew a breath and let it out. Frederick had drawn up a list of clients who’d been unhappy with their sentences, but no one had jumped out. Other than Cesar Tavilla, he wasn’t aware of anyone who hated him this much or had enough muscle to pull off such an elaborate setup. And according to Ramirez, this was not Tavilla’s doing. ‘I don’t know and that’s the truth. I tend to make enemies in my line of work.’
Detective Brickman made another offensive noise. ‘No kidding.’
Gwyn’s hands clenched into fists. ‘Motherfu—’
Thorne wrapped one of her fists in his big hand and squeezed. ‘That’s what he wants,’ he murmured. ‘Don’t give him an inch.’
‘Sorry,’ she muttered. ‘But he’s an asshole.’
‘Yes, he is,’ Thorne agreed, as if they were the only two people in the room. ‘But he’s trying to make me mad. You need to keep me calm. Okay?’
Gwyn visibly reined in her temper. ‘Okay.’
He squeezed her hand again before turning back to Hyatt and Joseph. ‘No one has made any explicit threats, and implicit threats happen every damn day.’
Joseph’s gaze was . . . unsettling. Like he knew something that Thorne didn’t. ‘Tell me about the implicit threats, Thorne. Give me something to work with.’
Thorne stilled. ‘Why are you even here, Joseph? I thought you and JD had recused yourselves because we have . . . a not-unfriendly relationship.’
Still standing behind Stevie, Clay laughed out loud. ‘Not-unfriendly. That’s priceless. But I was wondering the same thing. What gives, Joseph?’
Joseph’s lips had twitched at Thorne’s words, but he sobered quickly. ‘I would have thought you’d have asked me that question when you first walked in.’
‘He was a little preoccupied at the time,’ Phil said, leaping to Thorne’s defense with just the right amount of paternal outrage.
‘I could see that.’ Joseph was very serious. ‘And I understand, believe me.’
‘Then answer his question,’ Gwyn said quietly. ‘Please.’
‘All right.’ Joseph slid a single sheet of paper across the table to Thorne. ‘I did some research of my own this morning. Did you know that Cesar Tavilla’s son is dead?’
Startled, Thorne grabbed the paper and scanned it quickly. Colin Tavilla had been killed in a fight in the prison exercise yard. Two weeks ago.
That was impossible. I’d have known. Ramirez would have told me.
‘I didn’t know,’ he said tightly, wiping his expression clean. But if it was true? This was going to get really, really bad.
Hunt Valley, Maryland,
Monday 13 June, 2.35 P.M.
Frederick didn’t draw an easy breath until he and Julie were safely in Clay and Stevie’s house. Taylor was waiting for them with a huge smile.
‘Julie, look at you!’ Delighted, she stroked a hand over her sister’s hair. ‘Your haircut is super-cute!’
Frederick blinked. Julie’s hair was shorter. He hadn’t even noticed.
Taylor chuckled. ‘It’s okay, Dad. It’s kind of a girl thing, right, Jules?’
Julie beamed. ‘The hair cutters came to the center. I like it!’
‘Hello, gorgeous.’ Taylor’s fiancé came up and brushed a gentle kiss on Julie’s cheek. ‘Long time no see.’
Julie giggled. ‘Hi, Ford.’
Frederick frowned, mentally checking the day. ‘It’s Monday, right? Why aren’t you at work?’
Ford straightened, shooting Frederick a cautious look. ‘I took some vacation days.’ He glanced at Julie. ‘You know, to help Clay and Stevie get ready for the christening.’
Which was in less than a week. Shit.
Taylor continued smiling at Julie, fussing with her hair. ‘We’re watching all the kids. Just so everyone can get their jobs done.’
It was then that Frederick saw the telltale gun-shaped bulge at Taylor’s side, covered by the loose-fitting jersey she wore. She was carrying. In the house. While watching children. His gaze quickly flew to hers and then to Ford’s.
Ford looked positively grim for a brief moment before schooling his features back into a smile for Julie. ‘I’ve got all kinds of fun stuff to do downstairs, and Cordelia’s picked out some DVDs she said you’re going to love.’
Julie clapped her hands. She loved Stevie’s ten-year-old daughter, and the feeling was mutual. I was right to bring her here. One thing done right, at least.
Frederick kissed Julie’s forehead. ‘Have fun, baby girl.’ He looked at Ford. ‘Can you carry her down the stairs?’
‘Daddy,’ Julie said, frowning. ‘They have an elevator. I can do it myself.’ She waved, maneuvering her chair toward the elevator to the basement, Ford at her side.
‘She knows the way,’ Frederick murmured.
‘She does,’ Taylor said wisely. ‘And Ford knows to let her do it herself. But he’ll be there if she needs him.’
Frederick met his daughter’s dark eyes, so like Clay’s. ‘When did they install an elevator?’
Taylor’s lips curved, watching her fiancé laughing with Julie. ‘A few months ago. Stevie was having trouble getting up and down the stairs to the basement with her cane, and one day she tripped. The next day Clay had the elevator company here.’ Her eyes softened. ‘Stevie was mad about the expense, but then Clay pointed out that if they got an elevator, Julie could play with Cordy. Stevie was on board after that.’
Frederick’s heart squeezed painfully, overcome with gratitude for the man who’d opened his arms and his home to their family, when very few would have been so forgiving.
‘Yeah,’ Taylor murmured, as if reading his mind. ‘He’s pretty special.’ She cleared her throat. ‘We’ve had a situation.’
Frederick’s shoulders sagged. ‘More than someone trying to get to Julie?’
Taylor looked as grim as Ford had. ‘Yes. Stevie was shot at.’
He gaped. ‘What? When?’
‘As they were leaving lunch. She’s fine, but Gwyn got shot at too.’
‘Clay never mentioned it when I called him.’
‘He said you sounded freaked out enough. That I should let you get here before I told you.’
That made Frederick feel both grateful and annoyed at the same time. ‘I guess that explains the gun you’re carrying.’
‘Nobody is going to hurt my family,’ Taylor said fiercely. ‘Come on.’
He followed her to Clay’s study, where Sam, Clay’s PI, was staring at a large monitor on the desk. Alec Vaughn, his IT whizz-kid, sat on the floor, a computer on his lap and stacks of paper arranged in a semicircle around him.
Both men looked up, expressions also grim. ‘You get your daughter settled?’ Sam asked.
‘Ford’s with her,’ Frederick said. ‘What are you doing?’
‘I’m viewing video from the bar where Thorne got attacked,’ Sam said, ‘and from one of the businesses down the road from the bar.’
‘Anything yet?’ Alec asked, but Sam shook his head.
‘No. But when I find what I’m looking for, I’ll send it to you.’
Alec nodded. ‘In the meantime, I’ve been checking into that phone number that called Bernice Brown’s friend and tried to contact your daughter. So far, all I know is that it’s a throwaway.’
‘I’d have been shocked if it weren’t,’ Frederick muttered.
Taylor leaned up and kissed his cheek. ‘Julie’s safe with us. I’m going downstairs to help Ford.’
‘He
took vacation to help out,’ Frederick said quietly, again overwhelmed by the way these people pitched in to support each other.
Her lips twitched. ‘I keep telling you that he’s a nice guy.’
‘I believed you the first time. I’m . . . glad.’
She nodded, understanding. ‘We were self-reliant for too long, Dad. Hard to get used to having so many people willing to help. Are you going to stay here today?’
‘No. Whoever contacted Julie knew that Sally Brewster had contacted her first. Miss Brewster could be in on this. If she’s truly honest, then we were overheard. If that’s the case, I need to know where it happened.’
Taylor looked like she wanted to protest, but she nodded. ‘Keep yourself safe, got it?’
‘Yes, ma’am,’ he said.
‘She told you about Stevie and Gwyn?’ Sam asked brusquely.
‘Just that they were shot at.’
‘Only them. Both Thorne and Clay made themselves targets by throwing themselves over them, but they weren’t shot at.’
Frederick better understood the tight set of the younger man’s jaw. Someone was looking to pick off Thorne’s friends, but was, for some reason, being choosy. ‘Where is Ruby?’
‘She and my mother were going shopping for baby things. I told them to go straight back to my mom’s house. I’m going to get Ruby now.’ Sam shut down his computer, and when he stood, Frederick saw that he too was wearing a weapon.
God. What had they come to, that they were armed in a secure house? ‘Poor Thorne,’ he murmured. ‘This has got to be wrecking him.’
‘We haven’t talked to him yet. Clay’s going to get him to come here. They’re all at the police station now, being grilled by Hyatt and Joseph Carter.’
Frederick whistled. ‘I’m sure that’s doing wonders for Thorne’s mood.’
‘Which is why we’re all going to be here when he arrives,’ Sam said. ‘We need to show him that we’ve got his back and that we’re going to fix this before it gets any worse.’
Baltimore, Maryland,
Monday 13 June, 2.45 P.M.
Thorne’s gut twisted painfully. Colin Tavilla was dead. How did I not know this? I should have been told. Ramirez should have told me. If there’d been radio silence from his man inside Tavilla’s camp, he’d have been worried. But he’d heard from Ramirez. Yesterday.