by J. D. Robb
“I’ve looked at her financials as far as I can without the probable cause to dig deeper. I figure she’s been paid, but I don’t discount the fun factor—or what people like her consider love. Ricker liked younger women.
“It’ll go back, though,” Eve mused. “It won’t be recent, that connection. She didn’t turn up in the sweep after we busted him, but she’s no new recruit. That means she’s got some layers over her, and some time in.”
“If you find me a connection between her and Ricker—something solid—I can use that and her connection to Coltraine. I may be able to finesse a search warrant, and authorization for that deeper dip into financials.” Reo considered it. “If you can get Rouche to say Ricker has someone in Coltraine’s squad. I don’t need a name, just the verification that Ricker has someone inside that unit, I can get the warrants. Maybe IAB—”
“They don’t have anything on her,” Eve told Reo. “I checked.”
“Well, maybe they should look again.”
“I’ll take another look at her file,” Mira said. “And her background data. I’ll work up a more comprehensive profile.”
“I’ll write it up, run probabilities.” Peabody got up to gather empty plates. “While Nadine’s looking for that crossed path with Max Ricker, I can look for one between Grady and Sandy. Maybe he recruited her.”
“Or she recruited him.” Eve ordered more data on-screen—split screen. “Sandy, Grady, Alex Ricker. They’re all about the same age. Yeah, that might be something. Go back ten years, fifteen. College pals. If she was Ricker’s that far back, he might’ve used her to get to Sandy. Let’s—hold it.”
She swiveled back to her ’link. “Dallas.”
“What do you want first, Dallas?” Callendar asked. “ ’Cause I got a shitload for you.”
“Did you break the encryption?”
“Damn fucking-A tooting. Gee, I’m really tired now. Booster’s wearing down. Text, Omega to New York.” She yawned, blinked. “Sorry. Text: ‘Hit target within forty-eight. Complete disposal. Complete arrangements with hunter. Usual fees cleared when disposal verified.’
“Second text, Omega to New York,” Callendar continued. “Oh, this is the one we matched with a toss-away down there. Text: ‘Go. Coordinate with mole. Don’t disappoint me, dear.’ ”
“Are there any more?”
“Isn’t that enough?”
“Nothing within the last twenty-four from Omega?”
“Not on this. But to jump ahead, there’s one from New York to Omega, same ’links as the second trans. Text: ‘Disposal complete. I never disappoint.’ That was sent an hour after Coltraine’s TOD, to the unregistered ’link we dug up in Rouche’s quarters. We also dug up a nice bit of accounting. He kept records, Dallas, of income. Payments listed by date—going back for ten months—and the accounts, by number, where he stashed the funds. It was a romp through the daisies. Then there’s the e-mail. We pulled them off his in-room comp. All e’s are required to go through security, but it looks like he got his buddy Art to bypass. The receiver’s account is under Luanne DeBois.”
“Yeah, I bet it is.”
“Lots of lovey-dovey. And lots of instructions and communication about where and how to access funds, what to do with them. He is so screwed.”
“Wrap him up and bring him in. But keep it under the radar. I don’t want Ricker knowing his boy’s pinned. Security breaches, fraternizing with prisoners, suspicion of collusion. That’s enough to get them down here. Keep them separated on the trip back. Full security from here to there. If you need it, have the warden send a couple of people he can trust with you. I’ll contact him directly, clear it. Get it going, Callendar.”
“Sisto, we’re getting the hell off this rock!”
“Good work,” Eve added and signed off.
“That gives us goods on Rouche, but unless we can put that ’link into Ricker’s hand—”
“Don’t screw with my mood, Reo. I’ve got work, and I’m really happy.”
She contacted the warden, then Whitney. Then, because under the circumstances being an informant for IAB didn’t make her sick, she contacted Webster.
She stared at the blue screen of blocked video.
“Jesus, Dallas, it’s Sunday morning. I’m off.”
“I have information for IAB, but if you’re too busy to—”
“What, what, what?”
“Are you alone?”
“What’s it to you?” He cursed into the silence. “Yeah, yeah, I’m alone. I’m also in bed, mostly naked. I can unblock the video to confirm, if you want to dream about me.”
“I’ve already seen you mostly naked, and it never caused me to dream.”
“Cold.”
“Listen up. I’m informing IAB that I strongly suspect Detective Cleo Grady of colluding with Max Ricker, of being on his payroll, and of the murders of Detective Amaryllis Coltraine and Rod Sandy.”
“Hold it. Hold it. You’re making an arrest?”
“Did I say I was making an arrest? I’m informing you, as a member of IAB, that I suspect a fellow officer is involved in illegal activities, for gain, with a known and incarcerated criminal. I suspect that fellow officer killed Detective Coltraine on the orders of Max Ricker, and that she killed Rod Sandy.”
“Who the hell is Rod Sandy?”
“Alex Ricker’s personal assistant. He’s in the morgue. I suspect, again on Max Ricker’s orders, that Grady and Sandy worked together to murder Coltraine, and to splash some suspicion on Alex Ricker.”
“What’s your evidence?”
“I don’t have to give you evidence,” Eve said as Webster, dragging on a T-shirt, came on-screen. “I’m relaying my suspicions, and that’s enough for IAB to start the ball rolling. If you consider that mostly naked, Webster, it’s no wonder you’re in bed alone on Sunday morning.”
“I put clothes on. Stop yanking my chain. We don’t release the hounds on a cop just on another cop’s say-so.”
“You know that’s not what this is. Take a good look at her, Webster, and for Christ’s sake, don’t tip her off. I’m building a case, and it’s taking shape. If I’m off, I’m off, and no harm done. But I’m not. I’ve got some expert corroboration on that.”
“What corroboration?”
“The tinglies,” she said and cut him off.
Ball’s rolling, ball’s in the air, she thought. Nothing more to do just then but wait. She started to go out, remembered all the women who were probably swarming around the house. She detoured to the elevator. When it opened in her bedroom, she snuck over and closed the door. Then she walked to the bed, let out one sigh, and dropped face-down onto it.
Coltraine sat at her desk in the squad room while Eve stood by Grady’s.
“She was never a friend, never a partner.” Sorrow weighed down Coltraine’s voice. “Not to me, not to any of us. She’d have killed any one of us if Ricker ordered it.”
“I doubt you were her first. It usually takes more than one to do it that cold. She doesn’t have any kills on the job. Probably too bad as Testing after a termination’s pretty intense. More intense than the screening, the evals, to get a badge.”
“You seem so sure it was her.”
“You looked in her face when she killed you.”
Coltraine swiveled her chair from side to side. “Your dream, Dallas, your perspective. I can’t tell you anything you don’t already know.”
“Fine, we’ll play it that way. Yeah, it’s her. That’s my perspective.”
“Because we’re women.”
“Plays into it, yeah. I think Mavis had some good points. But she was in my top two right along. Newman was up there with her because he keeps his head down, stays off the grid. Does the job, pleasant guy, doesn’t make waves. A man who can do that makes a good tool. Which is why Clifton just didn’t fit. Too volatile. The LT? Too much of a by-the-book guy, and O’Brian . . . He just plays straight for me. A good cop who takes pride in the job. You can’t take pride in what you a
buse, in what you betray. Plus the wife, the family. Why struggle to pay the bills, give the kids the education if you’ve got this well to dip in?”
“You like him.”
“I guess. Delong needs the squad—they’re family, and he needs that dynamic. Clifton’s posturing, hanging out with the guys so he can brag whose chops he busted that day, and use that to get under a skirt when he can. Newman, he plods his way through, maybe has a drink after a long shift with his partner of the day, then goes home to his wife and dog.
“Grady, she’s a loner. Nobody’s there when she comes home. I know how that is. But she doesn’t live the job, that’s not it. If she did, she’s smart enough, savvy enough to be second grade by now—closer to making first—to work out of a more powerful unit, a sexier squad.” Eve tapped her fingers on Grady’s desk. “But she’s not and she doesn’t. Because too much attention makes it so some people look too close. She’s got something to hide.”
“So did you. Hacking your father to death when you were eight’s a big secret for a cop.”
“I didn’t remember it, not clearly. It wouldn’t have mattered if I had. I did live the job. I needed it like I needed to breathe. And Feeney wanted me—” She broke off, angled her head. “Someone wanted me. That was a first. Someone saw me, wanted me, was willing to invest in me. That was a rush. Maybe Ricker saw her. What if—” She broke off again, cursed.
“Cat’s on your ass,” Coltraine said.
Eve woke feeling Galahad’s paws kneading her ass. Then the considerable weight of him was gone. She rolled over and saw Roarke with his arms full of sulky cat.
“Sorry,” he told her. “He’s fat, but sneaky. He beat me to you.”
“Were you going to knead my ass?”
“I think of little else, night and day.” He sat beside her, stroking the cat. “I’m told you were called away from the party last night. Rod Sandy.”
“Yeah.” She sat up. “I don’t think anyone missed me especially, so—”
“I did.”
Now she smiled. “Yeah?”
“Yeah.” He leaned forward to kiss her.
“I guess I should ask if you had fun.”
“I was with a group of men, friends, in casinos, in strip joints of the highest, and the lowest, class.”
“You took Trueheart to a strip dive?”
“He almost glows in the dark when he blushes. It’s charming, actually. The boy also hit for over five grand on some ridiculous slot called Pirate Quest.”
“Five? Yo-ho, Trueheart.”
Roarke laughed. “And I’ve heard every variation of that ever since.”
“Oh my God. My sweet blushing Jesus, wait. Rewind. You took Mr. Mira to strip joints.”
“He’s a big boy, and enjoyed himself. He has a pair of pasties to prove it.”
“No, no, no.” She clamped her hands over her ears in defense. “I don’t want to hear Mr. Mira in the same sentence as pasties.”
“And he won about twelve hundred at craps. McNab came out two thousand, three hundred dollars, and eighty-five cents ahead. Precisely—which he informed us of often. Charles ended up down just over that. Feeney won about twenty-five dollars, keeping the reputation of his lucky shirt intact. Baxter broke even.”
“How about you, hot shot?”
“As it was my casino, if I win, I lose—in a matter of speaking. What about you? Did you have fun?” When she sat there, frowning, he flipped a finger down the dent in her chin. “That wasn’t a trick question.”
“I had to think about it. I have to say I did, in a weird way. I’m surprised. Then this morning, I end up running a breakfast meeting with the core group. Through no plan of mine. And Mavis puts her finger on the killer.”
“Mavis?”
“Yeah. I’ve got all these brains—I don’t mean Mavis is stupid, but I’ve got the police detective, the profiler, the ace reporter, and the doctor. And it’s the former grifter turned music disc star and mother who nails it. I’ll fill you in later if you want, but I guess I’ve got to go down and do whatever I’m supposed to do with everybody until they go the hell home.”
“They’ve all gone the hell home.”
“Don’t toy with me.”
“With many thanks for a wonderful party.”
She started to grin, caught herself. “That’s bad, right? That’s being a crappy hostess. I was just going to go down for an hour while the rest of them were getting breakfast and all that. I was supposed to be down there waving bye-bye and thanking everyone for coming.”
“I can tell you everyone who was still here when we arrived hoped you got some much needed rest. McNab had to come up and wake Peabody, so you weren’t alone. I think you did very well.”
“How long have I been down?”
“I don’t know when you finally fell on your face, but it’s nearly four now.”
“Shit. shit. I have to check, make sure Callendar’s on her way.”
“I can tell you she is, along with the other detective, two prisoners, and a representative of Omega. They had to clear the shuttle with me. So.” He shifted, moved back to sit at the head of the bed, patted the space beside him. “Why don’t you come over here and tell me what prisoners my shuttle is transporting to New York, and how they’re connected to Ricker, Coltraine, and Sandy.”
“It’s going to take a while,” she warned him.
“Believe me, after nearly twenty hours of gambling, naked women, strip music, and extraordinarily filthy jokes, I’m ready for home.”
She rolled over until she was snuggled against him. “I missed you, too.”
And while the cat sat at the foot of the bed washing himself, she filled Roarke in on the progress of the case.
20
ROARKE LISTENED, RELAXING WITH HIS WIFE curled up against him. The cat padded up the bed to bookend him at the hip.
Yes, it was good to be home.
“They’ll shut him down for a while,” he said, thinking of Ricker. “But down the line he’ll find another Rouche, another way. His power’s diminished, his freedom gone—he needs some outlet. Some . . . entertainment.”
“He has enough power, and freedom, to have caused two murders. Or one, anyway,” Eve considered. “I don’t think he ordered Sandy’s. If Callendar didn’t find a transmission on that, I have to believe it wasn’t there. Grady did that one for free, for herself.”
“Ricker wouldn’t object. Not in the long run. Sandy was on shaky ground, enough to let it show. Ricker might have decided to snip that thread even as he arranged for Coltraine’s murder.”
“I don’t know.” She started to roll away, and Roarke tightened his grip on her. “I’ll be back. He’s used Sandy for years—more than likely,” she continued as she got off the bed. “Sandy, shaky or not, was his best line to his son. His infallible way to keep tabs on Alex. That’s gone now.”
“Grady might think she can find a way to make that work for her.” Roarke watched Eve go to the panel, open it to select a bottle of wine.
“I got ambition from her, and couldn’t figure out why she’s stuck at third grade, working out of that small, low-level squad. Now it makes sense, because her ambitions lie elsewhere.” Eve chose a Tuscan red, opened it. “So yeah, I’ve got to figure she’s got plans. And she’s got to think she’s in the clear on Coltraine. Sandy takes the rap there. Or I work on trying to tie Alex up along with his dead pal. That’s how it’s going to look.”
“You’ve got plans.”
“I’m working on some.” She poured two glasses of wine, then carried them to the AutoChef. She programmed an assortment of cheeses, breads, crackers, fruit. She brought the wine over, handed a glass to Roarke, put hers on the night table before going back for the food. When she laid the tray on the bed, both the cat—who’d propped his head on Roarke’s thigh—and her husband studied her.
“Well now, isn’t this homey?”
“Some . . .” She reached over him for her wine, brushed her lips over his on the way back.
“Might consider it groveling.”
“It might be a start.”
She spread cheese on a small round of crusty bread, offered it. “Alex and Sandy hooked up in college. Father and son weren’t on the best of terms at that point. So it could be Ricker enlisted Sandy to get close, to develop a friendship.” She spread another round for herself. “The thing is, from what I’ve got at this point, Grady went to college. Not the same college, but she did six months in Europe. Some sort of exchange deal.”
“You’re wondering if she was Ricker’s even then, and she recruited Sandy for him.”
“It’s a thought. She’d have been pretty young. But then so were you when you had business with Ricker. You don’t remember her? She might’ve used a different name when she came around, maybe had a different look.”
“There were women, certainly. Young women. He enjoyed them. Used them. Sexually or for whatever purpose best suited. I saw her ID shot, and got a look at her at the memorial. She didn’t look familiar.”
Eve brooded over it. “It doesn’t fit that she’s new to him. He couldn’t know Coltraine would transfer to New York before she knew it herself. Grady’s been in that squad for three years, and a cop for more than eight. And he’d never trust someone that new with an assignment like this. Plus, he’s been in a cage longer than Coltraine’s been in New York, so how would he select and convince Grady to kill her? Hunter. That was his term for her in the transmission. She’s done this before.”
“So she was in place, and it happened to be the right place and the right time for this purpose.”
“Yeah. If not her, he’d have someone else. But it was her, so how, why, and when did she turn, did she sign up? She didn’t join the force right out of college. She took another couple years. I’ve got no employment on record for that period.”
“It’s not unusual to take a few months or a year between graduation and the start of a career. In this case, it would’ve been time for more specific training and education.”