Hard To Handle

by Kylie Brant

  Meghan folded her arms across her chest, each hand tightly clutching the opposite arm. “So you think he meant to attack us all along.”

  In an uncustomary urge to soothe, Gabe consciously softened his voice. “Maybe not. He might have thought we’d leave when the lights were cut. And if I hadn’t heard him moving, maybe we would have.”

  Shaking her head, she said, “But why? Why did he want us out of there?”

  “Maybe he was after the same thing the two of you were looking for,” Cal suggested. He met Gabe’s gaze meaningfully. “Whatever that might have been.”

  “But there wasn’t anything!” Meghan’s words were exasperated. “Which is exactly what I tried to tell Gabe yesterday.”

  Ignoring her words, Gabe looked at Cal. “You searched the compartment?”

  The man nodded. “Didn’t look like it had been bothered much. One box was open.” He sent a questioning look at his partner and Gabe nodded.

  “We’d just started on the fourth one.”

  “Can’t really tell if anything was missing, but the boxes didn’t look disturbed. If he’d been through them he wouldn’t have been careful.”

  “Did you happen to find any pictures on the floor? Polaroids, like the one Meghan gave us of her sister?”

  “Nope.”

  Gabe drilled Meghan with a look. “How many did you say were there?”

  She stared from one man to the other. “Nine, but why…”

  “What did you do with them after I left you?”

  “I…I laid them down just before you left,” she said slowly. Her face was set, still, as if she were keeping dangerous emotion suppressed. “I was holding the flashlight. It seemed like you were gone a long time. I kept hearing sounds…I saw a shape, thought you had come back.”

  Gabe’s mouth flattened to a thin hard line. “He wasn’t in the compartment long enough to do any searching. If the pictures are all that’s missing, then we have to figure that maybe they were what he was looking for.”

  “No.” Agitated, Meghan rose to pace. “Those pictures wouldn’t mean anything to anyone else.”

  “They might have meant something to this guy because he was the cameraman. Or knows who was.”

  “Was there something incriminating pictured in them?”

  Wearily, Meghan shook her head. “They were the only current pictures I could find of either Sandra or Danny. They weren’t even of particular good quality. I had already brought the best ones here. You have one of them.”

  “Then I think it’s time we took a closer look at the others,” Gabe said quietly.

  Things were moving too fast. Meghan stared at him, only dimly aware of the noises Danny was making as he staged a major naval war in his bath. She’d wanted Sandra’s death investigated, hadn’t she? Then why was she filled with this mind-numbing fear as it appeared more and more likely that they just might discover something that would provide her with some of the answers she craved?

  Releasing a shuddering breath, she stood silently and led them to her studio. She opened a drawer beneath a counter, drew out the two remaining photos. Thrusting them at Gabe, she muttered, “I have to check on Danny.”

  He watched her leave the room, and fought the urge to follow her. Any comfort he could offer wouldn’t be welcome, and he was damn poor at offering comfort, at any rate. The best thing he could do for her was to find D’Brusco, and maybe clear up a little of the mystery surrounding her sister’s final days. He gave the photos in his hands a cursory glance. There was nothing in either of them to suggest their importance. Maybe the technician downtown could find something.

  Cal gave a short whistle, and Gabe looked up. “What?” In the next instant he wasn’t certain he wanted to know. The smirk on his partner’s face didn’t bode well.

  “Better wipe off your chin, man, you’re drooling.”

  Gabe glared at him. “What are you talking about?”

  Chuckling, his partner answered, “I mean you’ve got it bad. The tension between the two of you is thick enough to cut with a knife.”

  Turning on his heel, Gabe stalked from the studio, leaving his partner to trail after him. “You’re imagining things,” he said shortly. “The thing is, I kinda promised to look into her sister’s death for her, in return for her allowing us to use the kid for an ID of D’Brusco’s friend. Then with Barton’s connection with D’Brusco…” He gave a shrug. “That keeps her involved.”

  “Involved.” Cal stroked his chin consideringly. “Yeah, that’s what it looks like to me, too. Like the two of you are involved.”

  Gabe’s beeper went off then, followed a moment later by Cal’s. “Who’s gonna call in?” Gabe asked, half-relieved by the interruption. When Cal got something in his head, it was difficult to shake it. The two men silently engaged in rock-paper-scissors, and Gabe lost. It was almost worth it. He went to Meghan’s phone and punched in the number to headquarters.

  Danny entered the room at a run, with Meghan following more sedately. “Slow down, you’re not late.”

  He skidded to a stop near the front door and yanked the closet door open. “I like to get to Alex’s early so we can watch cartoons before we hafta leave.”

  “Alex is coming here this morning, remember? It’s my turn to take you guys to school.”

  Gabe disassociated himself from the scene and focused on the voice on the phone. After a few terse questions he hung up and caught his partner’s eye. “We better get moving.”

  “Why? What’s going on?”

  Keenly aware of Meghan and Danny in the room, Gabe chose his words carefully. “D’Brusco has surfaced.”

  “Great.” Cal started for the door. “Where’s he being held?”

  “West Harrison.” He saw the comprehension in his partner’s glance. They wouldn’t be getting any answers out of Lenny D’Brusco. Nobody would. Because right now he was occupying a slab in the police morgue.

  “Cause of death, knife wound to the throat. I’ll need to conduct the autopsy before I can give you a full description of the wounds, but I’m betting he was dead before he hit the water.” Doug Trump spoke cheerfully to the detectives from across the bloated corpse. “The fish had quite a time with the body before it was discovered.”

  Cal winced. “Spare us the gory details, Doug. Are you going to be able to estimate the date of death with any accuracy?”

  “Depends.” The medical examiner pulled the sheet back over the body. “From the looks of it, I’d guess he was in the water two or three days. Have to wait and see what shows up inside. Water isn’t much of a preservative.”

  “We’d appreciate it if you could put a rush on the autopsy.”

  “Of course you would. Everyone is appreciative.” The medical examiner rolled his eyes. “And everyone’s in a rush. We’re knee-deep in bodies here. With these damn budget cuts there’s a hiring freeze on the vacant position in my department, but there’s no freeze on the work, y’know?”

  Gabe and Cal exchanged a glance. “They won’t give you the help you need? That’s rotten, Doug.”

  “Yeah, you guys are the backbone of the outfit. How do they expect us to solve any cases if you don’t get the help you need?” Gabe chimed in.

  The medical examiner eyed them suspiciously. “The original Frick and Frack aren’t you? Did you really think that patronizing crap was going to work?”

  Shrugging, Gabe said, “We thought it was worth a try.”

  Doug snorted. “Well next time try a case of prime scotch. Otherwise your guy waits his turn.”

  The detectives were ushered out of the morgue, and both took a deep breath of the relatively fresh air in the hallway. “Think it’s worth a case of scotch?” inquired Cal as they headed back upstairs.

  “Let’s wait and see. Somehow I don’t think we’re going to find out a whole lot about D’Brusco’s murderer from the autopsy. Not after he was in the water that long.”

  As soon as they entered the squad room back at headquarters, Gabe was immediately awa
re of the covert glances sent their way. By the time he’d reached his desk his suspicions had heightened noticeably. “All right, what’s going on.” Dead silence met his question. He looked at the most likely suspect. “Fiskes? What’d you do, start a fire in my desk drawer again?” As if to make sure, he reached down and pulled the drawer out a ways.

  “The lieutenant’s got company,” the detective answered. All eyes traveled to the direction of the lieutenant’s office, which had the blinds closed. A bad sign.

  “It must be your lucky day, boys.” Fiskes grinned wickedly as he went back to the report he was typing. “Because I heard your names being mentioned.”

  As if on cue, the door to the office opened and Lieutenant Burney appeared. “Connally. Madison. Could you come in here, please?”

  The partners exchanged a glance before obeying. “What’s up, Lieutenant?” Gabe asked in a low voice as he passed by him into the cramped office. The door was closed behind the detectives, and Gabe saw the answer for himself. Two men were seated inside already and turned at their approach. Gabe pegged them in an instant as suits. Feds, definitely. Then his gaze fell on the file open on the lieutenant’s desk. He glanced at Cal and knew the other man recognized it, too. It was a copy of the D’Brusco file.

  “Gentlemen, Detectives Connally and Madison.” Lieutenant Burney rounded his desk and sat down. “Agents Gallo and Torley. Justice.”

  Justice. The two detectives pulled out chairs and sat.

  “Detectives.” The tall thin one, Torley, nodded in their direction. He was pushing fifty, Gabe figured, and looked every day of it. “We understand from your lieutenant that you’ve been investigating some questionable monetary activity.”

  Hooking one foot over the opposite knee, Gabe returned the man’s regard steadily. “That’s right.”

  “Guess this is your lucky day, then. We’re about to lighten your caseload for you.”

  “That’s kind of you. Isn’t that kind of them, Cal?”

  Recognizing the sarcasm in his tone, the lieutenant threw Gabe a warning look.

  “Actually it has come to our attention that your case dovetails neatly with an ongoing investigation we’ve been conducting.” Agent Gallo was speaking now, with a slight Boston accent. He was a couple of decades younger than his partner, but didn’t seem any less uptight.

  “Dovetails neatly,” Gabe muttered in an aside to Cal.

  “Geez. Where do they get these guys?” He was about to say more, but, catching the lieutenant’s eye, wisely refrained.

  “I’ve received a request from these agents’ superior asking for a complete copy of your investigation to date.”

  “Sorry we couldn’t arrange to have that delivered on a silver platter for you,” Gabe said with mock politeness.

  Torley leaned forward, locked gazes with him. “Do you have something you want to say, Connally?”

  Burney cleared his throat. “I don’t think…”

  “Yeah, Lieutenant, I do.” Addressing Torley, Gabe said, “Justice was sniffing around this case from the beginning. But you backed off until now. Why? Did you need someone to do the groundwork for you first?”

  “We weren’t sure then about the connection to the case we’re building,” the agent retorted. “Now we are. You should be thanking us, Detectives. We’re making your life easier.”

  As the lieutenant showed the men out of his office, Cal looked at his partner. “They didn’t think we were grateful. Imagine that.”

  Burney returned to his desk, leaned against it and folded his arms across his chest. “You must have a lot of friends, Connally. What with your winning manner.”

  “C’mon, Lieutenant.” Gabe made no effort to curb the frustration in his voice. “This case is ours in about eight different ways. It’s just like Justice to waltz in here after we’ve done the work….”

  “This department wouldn’t have completed a laundering investigation and you know it, Detective. It’s routine for another agency to take it over at some point. And it’s not like you’re off the case completely.” He waited until Gabe met his gaze before continuing, “You’ve still got a dead body on your hands, don’t you? Looks like you two still have a homicide investigation to conduct.” Pushing off from the desk, he went to the door, held it open.

  Gabe and Cal exchanged glances as they exited the office. D’Brusco’s murder was intertwined with his activities that may have led to it. The lieutenant was right.

  They still had a case to work. And Gabe figured their best lead would be to identify the last-known guy to have seen D’Brusco alive.

  “It’s out of the question.” Meghan turned from Gabe’s level stare and scrubbed at an imaginary stain on the counter.

  “Why is it out of the question?”

  “Because he’s a five-year-old boy, that’s why!” She whirled on him, fire in her eyes, fear in her heart. “Can you even imagine the trauma he’s been through in recent months? Do you even care? I’m not going to allow you to put him through more.”

  Something settled in his eyes—a cold chill. “Working with a sketch artist isn’t going to send your nephew over the edge. You agreed to cooperate when we first entered into our bargain, remember? I’ve upheld my end. You got your second look into your sister’s accident.”

  “What I got were even more questions.”

  “That’s right. And those questions point to a connection between your sister and the corpse we’ve got downtown.” She winced at his description, but he didn’t seem to notice. “By helping us solve the D’Brusco case you just might get a few more answers to those questions.”

  She firmed lips that were beginning to tremble. “You can’t guarantee that.”

  “No.” His low voice curled around her like a lover’s embrace, and reminded her, just for a moment, of the way it had sounded the night she’d been in his arms.

  Open your eyes. Look at me, Meghan.

  The memory alone was seductive enough to send a shiver over her skin. It wasn’t what she ought to be concentrating on, however. It was the choice she’d made that night. And all the reasons for it.

  “I’ll have to consult his therapist,” she hedged. “To see if he can handle it. And if the timing is right.”

  His eyes were shrewd. “Why does he have a therapist? He seems all right to me.”

  Her gaze slid from his and she went to the sink, took her time arranging the damp dishcloth over the faucet to dry. “He had some trouble adjusting…problems at school. She’s helped him a lot. Helped us both.” The words were a masterful understatement. She would never have made it this far with Danny without Raina’s help.

  “Okay, so we’ll ask the therapist.”

  “No!” She knew the vehemence in her voice would only give rise to more questions, but she couldn’t control it. Gabe couldn’t meet Raina. The thought had her blood turning glacial. She didn’t doubt the woman’s discretion, but neither did she doubt the detective’s persistence. He wouldn’t be satisfied until he’d learned all there was to know about Danny’s therapist. And from there it would only be a step until the next secret was revealed. The one she was determined he’d never discover.

  She wet her lips, strove for composure. “I’ll talk to her. Then I’ll let you know what she says.”

  He was watching her with that sardonic, knowing expression that he wore far too frequently. “If she happens to say no, I’ll be wanting to talk to her myself.”

  She turned her back on him then, her fingers clenching the edge of the counter in frustration. Her mind was whirling, but she didn’t see a way out of this. She should never have made that ridiculous agreement; should never have believed she could get away with using the man, as she’d originally intended. There would be no denying Gabe Connally. At least, she hadn’t figured a way yet.

  She sensed his presence behind her and closed her eyes. Two hard fists propped on the counter on either side of her hands. She could feel his heat at her back, a bare fraction of space between them. When he spoke
, she imagined she could feel his lips brushing against her hair. “He’s already involved in this, Meghan. You’re already involved.”

  She shook her head in silent denial, all the while knowing he spoke the truth. She was trapped, in much the same way she was caged between the counter and the equally unyielding man at her back. A breath shuddered out of her when his cheek brushed her hair. He was right, and the acknowledgment brought only desperation. She was involved. Involuntarily, intricately.

  And she could see no way out.

  Chapter 9

  “I understand your reluctance.” Raina’s hand touched Meghan’s, as gentle as her voice. “But you have a choice here, no? And if Danny can help, you may also learn more about Sandra. Both of you have questions about her death.”

  Her gazed streaked to Raina’s. “Danny has questions? What has he said?”

  “He was living with his mother when she was involved in all this,” Raina reminded her. “He’s too young to be able to verbalize all of what he feels, but he is able to sense quite a bit. And he felt the danger his mother was in. It made him very afraid.”

  Agitated, Meghan rose to pace. “All the more reason then to keep him out of this investigation. There’s no telling who he may come into contact with at a police station. Can you imagine the kind of things he might sense if there happens to be a criminal in custody?”

  “So it is his reactions you fear.”

  Honesty compelled Meghan to admit, “Not totally. Going to the police station we run the risk that someone might start asking questions, putting two and two together.”

  “You do not trust this Detective Connally to keep him safe?”

  The older woman’s question hung in the air, and Meghan considered it honestly. The key word was trust. She shouldn’t trust any cop, after what the department had done to her family. She held Wadrell responsible for her sister’s name being made public. The thought of the same thing happening to Danny; the thought of him following a path blazed by his mother, seeking the public eye, only to eventually die from it, turned her heart to ice. There was nothing she wouldn’t do to prevent that.