by Maggie Price
“That means you probably entered the building about 6:13.”
“Six-fourteen to be exact. I noted the time when you and I first viewed the video off the camera at the door.”
He glanced over at the wall of monitors. “You planning on seeing Sloan while you’re here?”
Julia followed his gaze. “No, why?”
“He’s leaving the building.”
Julia found Sloan’s image on one of the screens, watched as he stepped onto an elevator, briefcase in hand. Seconds later, the doors slid closed on his image.
She set her jaw, ignoring the fist that had tightened around her heart.
Rick swung his feet off the desk. “It’s after five,” he said, stubbing out his cigarette in the overflowing ashtray. “Most everyone’s out of the building by now. I’ve put in a full day and I expect you have, too.”
He swiveled his chair, then opened a door on the polished credenza behind the desk and pulled out a sterling silver flask. He gave Julia a conspiratorial wink across his shoulder. “Care to join me in a Scotch?”
Her finger froze over the remote’s Play button while her mind flashed to the bottle of cheap Scotch she and Halliday had found in Vanessa’s apartment. Her inner radar went on alert.
“Thanks. It’s been a hell of a week.”
“Amen to that,” Rick said, snaring glasses out of the credenza.
“Okay,” Julia began, scanning through the tape until Vanessa’s black Jaguar appeared. “You can see the cup of carrot juice sitting on the dash. It must have spilled when she drove down the ramp.”
Saying nothing, Rick twisted off the lid of the flask.
The instant Vanessa leaned out the Jag’s window to scan her card, Julia froze the image. Rays of early-morning sun highlighted Vanessa’s flawless porcelain skin, transformed the hair that cascaded around her shoulders into an ocean of gold. A hardness shone in the almond-shaped blue eyes that stared at the card reader.
“Here’s your Scotch,” Rick said, offering a glass of gold liquid.
“Thanks.” Julia leaned and accepted the glass.
He tossed back his drink, poured himself another, then reached for the pack of cigarettes in his shirt pocket.
Slowly, she raised the glass to her lips and took a deep breath. The Scotch’s unrefined aroma assaulted her senses. Rotgut, Halliday had called it that day in Vanessa’s apartment.
She closed her eyes for the length of a heartbeat. Just because Vanessa had a bottle of the same cheap Scotch didn’t prove a connection between her and Rick. Still, it implied one.
Every nerve in Julia’s body went on alert. Now magnified in her brain were Rick’s attempts to have her view the tapes off the network system, instead of those confiscated into evidence less than an hour after the homicide. Had he somehow altered the network tape to show himself entering the building much earlier than he actually had?
She looked back at Rick, found him examining her with guarded eyes. His hand trembled slightly as he raised his cigarette to his lips. A single bead of sweat tracked slowly down his right temple.
Dammit, Halliday, I need you, she thought as a gut-level instinct told her to tread carefully. Hundreds of hours of training clicked in as Julia evaluated her options. She was essentially alone in the vast building with Rick, who, less than a week ago, had possibly shot a woman to death. And he had a 9 mm Glock in a drawer inches from his fingertips.
With pretended casualness, Julia set her untouched drink on the edge of the desk. When she got to her cruiser, she would radio for backup. If Rick left before reinforcements arrived, she’d tail him. A patrol unit could pick him up, transport him to the station, where she’d conduct an intense interrogation on her own turf.
Aiming the remote at Vanessa’s frozen screen image, Julia stabbed the Off button. “Look, I just remembered I have an appointment across town,” she said, and placed the remote beside her glass.
Rick shifted in his chair, crossed his ankle over his knee and rested his hand on the cuff of his slacks. “Is that so?”
Tension twisted her insides into a cold knot. She kept her eyes on his hands, feeling the surge of adrenaline that had her ready to draw the automatic holstered at her waist if he made a move for the desk drawer.
He remained motionless, watching her steadily, one hand resting on the ankle he’d crossed over one knee.
“I’ll check back with you about watching the rest of the tape at another time,” she added.
In one fluid movement, he was out of his chair, swinging his arm her way. “There won’t be another time.”
Instinct kicked in the second after Julia caught a glimpse of blue steel. Her fingers froze on her weapon as she stared into the dark barrel of the revolver he’d pulled from an ankle holster.
A Walther, she thought. Twenty-two. The same caliber weapon that killed Vanessa.
Her pulse thudded hard and thick at the base of her throat. “Rick, you don’t want to do this,” she said, forcing a calmness into her voice.
“What I don’t want to do is go to jail.” He took a step toward her, keeping the gun pointed at her heart. “Understand something, Julia. I don’t want to shoot you. But if you don’t do what I say, I will.”
Chapter 12
“Take your weapon out, slow and easy, and lay it on the floor,” Rick ordered.
Pushing away the ice-edged fear clawing at her brain, Julia kept her eyes fastened on the Walther’s dull black barrel. Rick was too far away to make a lunge for the gun, yet close enough for the .22 automatic to blow a serious hole in her. She unholstered the Smith and laid it at her feet.
“Kick it over here.” He waited until she did so, then cocked his head toward one of the chairs at the front of the desk. “Sit.”
Heart thudding, she stayed where she was, the smell of fresh gun oil cloying in her lungs. She was the only barrier between him and the door. Between him and freedom. “Rick, you need to put the gun down and. stay here so we can talk. We need to work this out.”
“I don’t think so.”
“Things will only get worse if you run.”
“Jail will be worse. I was a cop, Julia. Cops who go to prison don’t always walk out alive.” He lowered the gun’s barrel until it pointed at her leg. “If I have to tell you to move again, I’ll kneecap you. A .22 slug can maim you for life. I don’t want to do it, but I will. Don’t force me.”
Back as stiff as cardboard, she walked to the chair and lowered onto the edge of the seat. Adrenaline surged through her veins; she took deep breaths to hold back the sick feeling that rose from the pit of her stomach.
His blue eyes flicked to the panel of security monitors. “We’ll wait until the stragglers clear out, then you and I are taking a ride.”
“A ride?” The only ride she intended to take with Rick Fox was one with him subdued and cuffed in the back of her cruiser.
“I need time to get my things and clear out. If I leave you here, the cleaning crew will find you in a couple of hours. You’ll be comfortable enough cuffed and gagged at my place. When I’m away free and clear, I’ll send word where you are. Your pals in uniform will come get you.”
Julia kept her eyes on the automatic while her thoughts skittered to her still-running recorder on the edge of the desk. “Since we aren’t leaving right away, do you mind clearing up some things for me?”
Rick shrugged. “You mean you don’t have it all figured out yet?”
“I’d just like you to verify some things.”
One-handed, he shook a cigarette out of the pack and lit it. “Why not?” He blew out a stream of acrid gray smoke, then tossed his gold lighter back onto the desk.
“You took Vanessa home from the museum,” Julia hazarded. “What happened when you got to her apartment?”
Outwardly, Rick’s face remained impassive, his bearing calm. An act, Julia knew. She could smell the sourness of his sweat, see the uneven rise and fall of his chest beneath his starched shirt and paisley tie.
“You
know, Julia,” he began as he leaned and plucked the recorder off the edge of the desk. “I don’t mind us having a little one-on-one discussion. After all, I’m not planning on hanging around to face repercussions.” He held up the recorder in his thick, square hand, then stabbed the Off button with his thumb. “But I prefer to keep things between us. I’m sure you understand.”
“Completely,” she said between her teeth.
“Vanessa was furious after her fight with Sloan.” He slid the recorder into the pocket of his slacks. “All the champagne she’d downed didn’t help her mood. When she stormed out of the museum, I had one hell of a time coaxing her into my car.”
He took a drag off the cigarette; exhaled slowly. Smoke hung in a silent curl between them.
“All the way to her apartment Vanessa ranted and raved about how she’d get even with Sloan,” Rick continued. “When we pulled up at her building, I tried to get her to let me go upstairs. I figured I could talk some sense into her.” The lines at the edges of his eyes deepened. “She wouldn’t let me come up.”
“Too bad,” Julia said evenly. “She could have offered you a glass of your favorite Scotch.”
He flicked a look at the silver flask on the desk as his mouth took on a sardonic curve. “Funny, it’s always the little things that trip people up.”
While her mind worked, Julia sat motionless, her body strung tight with tension. “You couldn’t get Vanessa to listen to you that night,” she stated. “I take it you waited for her in the parking garage the following morning.”
“Hell, we’d been sleeping together for months. I had the crazy idea I could make her see some reason. That’s all I intended to do. Just talk.”
“Let me guess—she wasn’t in the mood for conversation.”
“She was even more furious, if that was possible. To top things off, she’d spilled the damn carrot juice all over that red suit of hers and she was cussing a storm about that.” Rick’s free hand clenched, then unclenched. “I tried to get her to calm down, to listen to me. I offered to help her patch things up with Sloan.”
As he spoke, Julia cast a look past his arm to the wall of monitors. Her chest tightened when she saw Sloan reenter the building through the revolving door and stride into the nearly deserted lobby. God, what if he’d spotted her cruiser in the parking lot and come back inside to find her?
Her breathing quickened, became a painful thumping in her ears. How desperate was Rick? What would he do if Sloan walked through the door?
With a dry mouth and galloping pulse, she fought to focus her thoughts. She had to get Rick to let his guard down, had to find an opening.
“What did Vanessa say when you offered to help mediate things between her and Sloan?”
“She told me to go to hell.” His eyes narrowed with the memory. “She said she’d gotten her hands on my personnel file, and if I didn’t stay out of her way, she’d tell Sloan about the black cloud hanging over my past.”
“Black cloud?”
He stared at Julia for a long, considering moment. “What the hell, it’ll come out after this,” he said, lifting a shoulder. “She found out I quit the New Orleans PD to escape an indictment.”
Julia blinked. “That was in your file?”
“Hell no. On the surface, there’s nothing there to cause me trouble—I’d made sure of that. But Vanessa never accepted things at face value. She took my background information and started digging.” He expelled a bitter laugh. “I can’t even say it surprised me. Vanessa turned everything to her own advantage. She disregarded the rules and played the game her way.” He raised his hand, let it drop. “I knew that about her from the start, but I didn’t care. To me, that only made her more exciting. Only made me want her more. Dammit, Julia, she was like a drug. I was always looking for ways to boost the dose.”
“What did the indictment charge?”
“Money skimming.” He shrugged. “From the first day I worked the street, I saw cops skimming cash at crime scenes. You know how it is, Julia. You bust into some coke house and there’s hundreds of thousands of dollars lying in plain sight. By the time the money gets booked into the property room, there’s a hell of a lot less. I didn’t do anything that half the cops on the department weren’t doing. But I got a tight-assed rookie assigned to ride with me, and Mr. Law and Order turned me in.”
The fact that Rick had dumped on his badge sent disgust creeping through Julia’s fear. “Why weren’t you indicted?”
“The department had just put one scandal to rest. A few people in high places figured their careers couldn’t withstand another. I got offered a deal—quit and the indictment would disappear.”
“Sloan knows nothing about this?”
“No. I told him I got a medical disability because of a bad back.”
“Why wouldn’t he believe you?” Julia asked evenly. “After all, you’re his best friend. He trusts you.”
Rick’s eyes narrowed. “I couldn’t tell him the truth. How long do you think a known thief would last as head of security for a national corporation? Friendship is one thing, business another. Sloan would have had to let me go. And I’d be lucky to get a job guarding a parking lot somewhere.” His jaw tightened. “I’d have lost everything, thanks to Vanessa.”
His eyes hardened as if remembering that morning in the garage. “I asked her how she got my personnel file. She gave me this cool look and said that Smithson had given her access to all the personnel files. Then she added that she’d been sleeping with him the whole time she’d been seeing me.” Rick’s voice shook. “I had no idea, no idea....” His eyes narrowed. “Then she turned her back on me. She just turned her back....”
He took a deep breath, blew it out. “I grabbed her. She shoved me back and started to walk away. Suddenly I had the gun from my ankle holster in my hand....” His gaze lowered. “This gun. I told her to stop. She looked across her shoulder, saw the gun, then laughed. She just laughed.... It was like something inside me snapped and I lost control. Not that it matters, but I don’t remember squeezing the trigger.”
Julia stared down the same lethal gun barrel as Vanessa had. Perspiration pooled at the small of her back. She took a deep breath. “What happened after that?”
“I panicked. If I’d been thinking straight, I wouldn’t have entered the building and gotten myself on tape. But I heard a car and panicked. All I could think about was getting the hell out of there before someone saw me.”
Julia’s gaze darted past Rick to the monitors. Sloan was still in the lobby, standing now.behind the reception desk. He bent his dark head over the computer and tapped keys. She knew the standard procedure for visitors to the building was for the receptionist to log each person’s name and the staff member they had business with into the computer. Julia’s thoughts flashed back to the moment she’d entered the lobby. The clock had just clicked to 4:59. The receptionist had already shut off the terminal. Her name hadn’t gone into the system.
She cut her eyes back to Rick. “It was Sloan’s car you heard entering the garage after you shot Vanessa.” It took all she had to keep her voice low and calm.
“I know that now. I didn’t then.” Rick frowned. “I came up here, not sure what the hell to do. It wasn’t long until one of my men called to tell me Smithson had found Vanessa dead in the garage and I needed to get down there fast.”
Julia nodded, everything coming together now. “Vanessa had just thrown her affair with the personnel director in your face. Now he’d come along and found her body. I take it you planted the service pin near her car when you went back downstairs.”
Rick arched a brow and gave her a slight nod. “Very good, Sergeant.” His chest heaved with his labored breathing, but his gun hand remained stable.
“Where did you get the pin?”
“Someone found it on the floor in an elevator and handed it to me while I was in a meeting. I tossed the pin in my desk drawer and forgot it.” He shrugged. “By the time I got the call about Vanessa, my brain ha
d started working again. I thought about our esteemed personnel director.” Derision thickened Rick’s voice. “Thought about him sleeping with Vanessa, giving her access to my file....”
“So you took the pin out of your drawer,” Julia prompted.
“I figured if I left it by the body, it would shift things Smithson’s way.”
“But you still had a problem. You were on tape entering the building around seven o’clock, right after the homicide.”
“A big problem,” he agreed. “To doctor the tape, I had to get into our video room off the security area in the basement, but I couldn’t. There were too many cops around, too much going on. I couldn’t get in there until after you and your partner had come upstairs to Sloan’s office.”
“And after I finished interviewing the staff, I came in here and you played me the tapes off the network. By then they showed you entering the building at 6:13, a few minutes after you drove into the garage.”
“Right.” His eyes glinted dully. Sweat beaded his hairline. “My problem was that the uniforms who first arrived had already confiscated cassettes of the original tapes. Since they’re encrypted with our security code, I knew you couldn’t view them on your own equipment.” The gun made a small arc as he spoke. “I just hoped to hell that the next time you showed up to watch the tapes, you wouldn’t bring the cassettes with you. If you hadn’t, I would have offered to run you sharper copies off the network system and told you to toss the ones you already had.”
“But that’s not what happened,” she said slowly.
“Unfortunately for both of us, you brought the cassettes.” Color flared in his cheeks as he stared down at the Walther. “And that brings us back to the problem.”
“You didn’t plan to kill Vanessa,” Julia said, keeping her voice even. Out of the corner of her eye she watched the surveillance camera track Sloan across the lobby to the bank of elevators. Every fiber in her body told her he was coming upstairs to look for her.
She curled her sweat-slicked palms in her lap. She had visions of Sloan walking through the door behind her, of Rick whipping around and squeezing off a few rounds. Of Sloan crumpling in a bloody heap on the floor. Her heart pounded hard enough to rock her body.