by C. D. Hersh
“Sure thing,” the coroner replied. “But why all the cloak and dagger stuff? Has something happened?”
“Beyond they’re feds and I want them outta here? No. If I don’t know what they know, I can’t make that happen fast enough. Oh, and Ramsey says she’s bringing in one of her own forensic people. Give them whatever they want and report to me.”
“Okay.”
After everything he’d learned, a trip to Delaney’s apartment to horn in on her interview with the maintenance man was due. No way was he going to let her shove him out of a murder investigation on his turf.
Secrets sucked.
At the sight of Harry, Delaney’s stomach twisted as tight as a braid. From the bite in his voice, she knew he was pissed at her. Excusing herself from the interview with the apartment maintenance man, she shoved Harry into the hall. The manager’s office door closed behind her with a metallic click. “What are you doing here, Harry?”
“Same as you, Ramsey. Murder investigation.” He moved to grab the door handle but she blocked him.
“I told you this is mine. Go back to the office.”
“Not this time. My city. My jurisdiction. My investigation.” She opened her mouth to protest and he continued, “If you want, I’ll go up your chain of command to get your cooperation.”
The knot in her stomach snaked to her throat. “Fine. But don’t get in the way.” She opened the door and went into the room, Harry trailing behind her. “I’m sorry about the interruption,” she said as she motioned Harry to an empty chair.
The maintenance man cast a questioning glance at Harry.
“Captain Williams,” she said. “He’ll be sitting in on the rest of the interview.” She collected her notes. The papers trembled in her hand. “Where were we?”
“You was asking me if I knew anybody who might want to kill Robert or George.”
“Who’s George?” Harry asked.
“The desk clerk,” the maintenance man said.
She shot a warning look at Harry. “Let’s go on. Tell me how you found the body.”
“George?”
“Yes.”
“Wait, wait, wait,” Harry said. “I don’t remember any George in the report. Who is he, and why were you asking about him, Agent Ramsey?”
She glared at him. “What part of ‘Don’t get in the way’ do you not get, Captain? Remember this is an FBI investigation.”
“What part of my city don’t you get, Agent Ramsey?”
The maintenance man’s gaze swiveled between the arguing couple. “Do you want to know what I seen or not?” he asked.
“Yes,” she said at the same time Harry said, “No.”
The man harrumphed, stood, and shoved his dirty baseball cap onto his head. “If all you two are gonna do is play good cop, bad cop, I’m leaving. I got work to do, and I already wasted an hour answering her questions.” He strode to the door, but Harry blocked his exit.
“Sit,” Harry instructed as he grabbed his arm. “We’re not finished.”
Delaney gathered her papers. “Yes, we are. If I need to ask you any more questions, I’ll contact you. Thanks for you cooperation.”
The man wrenched his arm out of Harry’s grip and exited the office.
“You’re not getting off that easy, Ramsey.” He leaned against the door and crossed his arms over his chest. “Sit.”
Bayonets of red jutted around his aura, the tips so pointed they could pierce metal. Anger throbbed from him. She sat, hoping what appeared to be compliance would ease his fury.
“Who is George?” he asked again, “and what does he have to do with this investigation?”
She took a deep, calming breath before answering. “George was a temporary desk clerk who filled in for Robert Cross while he was on vacation.”
“Is he a suspect?”
“No.”
“A prospective witness?”
“Nope.”
“The next victim?”
“Hardly.” If she was right, he was already dead.
“Damn it, Delaney.”
A ruby flush flooded Harry’s neck and face. She was making him mad. If she didn’t give him something he believed she’d never get him off her back.
“How is he connected to this case?” he demanded.
“I think he might be the most recent John Doe.”
“Why would you think so?”
“A hunch.”
He gave her a blank stare. The ruby flush faded to pink.
“Call it cop gut. You’ve got one, haven’t you?”
“Yes, but it doesn’t randomly connect people to a murder investigation.”
“Well, mine does.” She clutched her papers to her chest and stood.
Eyes glinting with curiosity, he moved away from the door and fell in step beside her. Only two high spots of color on his cheeks remained from his anger. “If this George is dead, what’s the connection?”
“I don’t know yet.”
“Think it’s connected to Riley’s terrorist claims?”
“No, Harry.”
“Then why are you interested and closed-mouthed about it?” When she didn’t answer, he continued, “Come on, Laney, level with me. Please, tell me what I need to know to trust you.”
She stopped and put on her best liar’s face. “Because I think it’s connected to a cold FBI case I’ve been trying to solve for some time.” He opened his mouth to speak, and she cut him off. “That’s all I can say, Harry. Please don’t ask for more.”
“I can help, if you let me.”
She shook her head. “No one can help me with this, and you can’t say anything to anybody. I’ve told you too much already.”
“But-”
“No buts. Promise you’ll keep quiet.”
Chapter 27
Rhys stuck his head into the captain’s office. “You wanted to see me?”
Harry waved him in. “Take a load off, Temple.”
As Rhys eased into the chair across the desk from Harry, he scanned his boss’s aura. Streaks of muddy gray and red over his normal soft blue-worried and a tad angry. “Am I in trouble?”
“No. Why?”
“You haven’t called me Temple since the wedding.”
“Speaking of which, how is the bride doing?”
“Fine, although the confinement is killing her.”
Harry winced at his verb. “Don’t say that.”
“Sorry. If I’m not in trouble, what do you need?”
“How well do you know Delaney Ramsey?”
That was not a question he expected. Rhys leaned back in his seat, trying to exude a casual air. “Not as well as you do,” he said, with a smile. “According to the office scuttlebutt.”
Harry ignored his barb. “She’s a bit of a mystery woman, isn’t she?”
“How so, Sir?”
“She comes out of nowhere right after Alexi gets mauled by a panther. She and her daughter claim to have some relationship with Alexi, relationships Alexi has never mentioned. Then Delaney waltzes in here as if she owns the place and takes over, spreading all her FBI secrecy crap around. Her and Riley both.”
He’d read the captain right. Something was definitely wrong. “I wouldn’t lump Delaney and Riley together, Sir. There’s a world of difference between the two.”
“Don’t see it.”
“Sylvia Riley is evil, Captain. You can bet on that.”
“A little strong don’t you think?”
“Trust me.”
“And Delaney?”
“From what I can see, she’s one of the good guys.” Rhys leaned forward and eyed Harry. “Has something happened between you two?”
He barked out a laugh. “You
could say that.”
“I meant beside sex? Your attitude towards her seems to have changed.”
“I don’t trust her anymore. I want to. She’s one hellava woman, but some things have come to light making me wonder what she’s hiding.” He withdrew a stack of paper from the desk drawer. “Look at these,” he said as he shoved them across the desk.
Rhys rifled through the pages. Pictures of him? What was Delaney doing collecting pictures of him? “Where’d you get them?”
“Gladys found them on the street cam near Ramsey’s apartment, at Delaney’s request. She’s got you under surveillance. Do you know why?”
He frowned. “I have no idea.”
“What were you doing skulking around her apartment?”
“I haven’t been.” He stopped short and peered closer at the photos, shuffling through the stack. “Where’s her apartment?”
“You don’t know?”
“Not as if I make a habit of visiting her like you do.”
“Not funny, Temple.”
The date in the bottom corner indicated the photos were taken over two months ago. He flipped the page over and checked the other pictures. Nearly three months ago on those.
“Why is she investigating you, Rhys? Are you in some kind of trouble with the FBI? Is she really here because of you?”
“I swear to you, Captain, I’ve done nothing wrong. I don’t know why she’d be checking on me.” To the best of his recollection he’d never been at her apartment, but his brother had. A prickle of fear crawled over him. He shoved the papers together. “Can I keep these?”
“Sure. Maybe you can find something else to explain why she wanted them. In the meantime, I’d keep my guard up around her, if I were you. She’s hiding something. Don’t know what, but I’m going to find out.”
“Leave this to me, Captain. Hard to date a woman you’re investigating.” The captain poking around was not an option. No telling what he might find. Delaney Ramsey had too many secrets. Secrets that would lead to him.
Captain Williams harrumphed. “She holds her cards too close. I can’t stay with such a woman, and I don’t date women I don’t trust.”
“Does she know you don’t trust her?” Stupid question. All Delaney had to do was scan him.
“We’ve been fighting over her FBI secrecy crap. She has to know.”
“Don’t tell her you know about the pictures. I’ll handle it. My own way. My own time. Deal?”
The captain scrubbed at his chin, uncertainty creasing his forehead. “All right,” he finally said. “If things go south I want your word you’ll tell me. She’s not taking down any of my people without a fight.”
“She’s not taking me down. I promise.”
The minute the captain’s office door closed behind him, Rhys reached for his phone and dialed home. Alexi answered. “Everything okay?” he asked.
“Sure, why?”
“Something’s happened and I needed to check on you. Is Eli there?”
“No. He had some council business to take care of. He’ll be gone a couple of hours.”
“I’m coming home.”
“What’s wrong, Rhys? You’re frightening me.”
“I need to talk to you. I’ll be right there.”
Alexi was barricaded in the living room when he arrived, her back to the wall and her gun in her lap. She ran across the room and threw herself on him, nearly knocking him down.
“Is someone after me?”
Rhys disentangled himself from her death grip. “No. They might be after me.” He eased her onto the couch and handed her the photos the captain gave him.
“Street cams of you? I don’t get it.”
“Delaney had Gladys pull these from the street in front of her and Lila’s apartment.”
“Because?”
“Don’t know. Harry gave them to me and wanted to know why Delaney might have me under surveillance.”
“Good question. An even better one might be why were you there?”
“I wasn’t.”
She inhaled sharply. “Do you think someone is mimicking you?”
Searching for the words to explain what he suspected, he remained silent for a moment. Dropping the ‘brother bomb’ without any warning wasn’t wise. “No. I don’t think that’s it.” Leaning against the sofa cushions, he cupped his head in his hands, curling his forearms against his cheeks. “Remember how Eli tasked me with getting undercov— spying on Sylvia?”
“Yes.” Alexi drew the single syllable out into two.
“I discovered something real interesting. Something you need to know about to protect yourself, in case things go wrong.”
“You’re really scaring me.” She poked his image on the paper. “Does it have something to do with this?”
“Probably. I’m not sure.”
She punched his arm. “Spit it out, Rhys. It can’t be as bad as you’re making me think it is.”
“The man in those photos is my double.”
“Mimic double?”
“No. Double as in twin brother.”
Gasping, she held the photos level with Rhys’ head. “Brother? Twin?” She dropped the photos to her lap, jabbing at the picture. “You’re sure he’s not a mimic?”
“Him, I’m not sure about since I can’t see his aura in a photograph. The man Sylvia introduced to me as my twin brother definitely was not shifted.”
“Sylvia introduced you? Oh, this is bad. Really bad. We have to tell Eli.”
“We can’t. Eli would kill him for sure, and I don’t want that.”
“Is he good?” Alexi waved her hands in the air as if she were trying to erase the question. “Forget I asked. If he’s involved with Sylvia he can’t be anything but bad.” Alexi leapt up and starting pacing. “What does he want? More importantly, what does she want?”
Rhys scanned Alexi’s aura. It spiked like the needle on a lie detector hooked to a pathological liar. Fear, indecision, anger, and hatred radiated from her.
When he didn’t answer right away she whirled around and pinned him with an icy stare. “Well. What do they want?”
“He wants to get to know me. She wants what she always wants.”
He felt her scan him, and he let her. Blocking his aura would not help.
“What else does he want?”
“For us to rule together.”
The red in her aura spiked. “Holy crap! You’re considering it!”
“Only to get closer. Eli said to figure out Sylvia’s plan. Roc is the key. He’s their Promised One. If I get to him and bring him to our side, think of what that would mean.”
“Betrayal. Death. Hostile takeover.” She ticked the items off on splayed fingers. “This is crazy, Rhys, and I don’t think it’s what Eli meant when he-” She stopped mid-sentence, her eyes narrowing. “How long have you known about him?”
“A few days.”
“You’re only telling me now?”
“I thought I’d have more time to figure out who he was. What Sylvia’s game was. But with the photos surfacing-”
“You had to cover your butt.”
“I think you’re missing the point here. Why is Delaney gathering pictures of me?”
“Maybe it’s not you she’s after. Maybe she’s on to your brother. A potential rogue Promised One with your powers. Does he have your powers?”
“Don’t know. He’s had longer to practice them. From what he says, all his life has been spent grooming him for the throne.”
“All the more reason to tell Eli.”
“No. More reason to protect him until I can sway him to our side. I may not know as much about this Turning Stone stuff as you do, Alexi, but I do know he and I will either fight to the death or join fo
rces. I prefer the latter. I prefer it be on my terms, not Sylvia’s. I can reach him if I get a chance.”