by G. K. Parks
“Don’t say things like that.”
“It was a joke.”
“A bad one.”
He moved to my bedside and turned on the lamp. He read the directions and checked the time. “It’s been six hours since you took that other crap. It should be fine.” He shook one tablet into his hand and held it out. “You seemed better earlier. What happened?”
“An unfortunate incident with the hairbrush.” I swallowed the pill and put the water on my nightstand. “I just can’t get comfortable.”
“I noticed.” He eyed the mess I’d made. “The problem is you’re not at the right angle.”
“Well, Gunnie went home with Emma.”
“Let me see what I can do.” He rearranged the pillows a few times. “Unfortunately, I have some experience with this. You have to keep the injury in a neutral position, which is complicated since you were cut from behind your ear down to your shoulder blade.” He eyed the pillows, annoyed that they wouldn’t cooperate. “Do you want to try sleeping like a horse?”
“How do they sleep?”
“Standing up.”
“Ha ha.”
“How is it you’ve been sleeping just fine these last few days?” Brad asked.
“I haven’t, but I’ve been too tired to care.” And I was way too tired to be having this conversation. The only thing I wanted was for it to stop hurting long enough so I could go to sleep. “Damn.”
“What?”
“I just realized what you meant when you said you just wanted it all to stop.” But that hadn’t been physical torment; that had been emotional.
“Hey.” Brad sat on the bed beside me. “That was one bad night and one mistake I don’t plan on repeating. Jokes aside, I’m not going to swallow a bottle of pills or drink my way to the bottom of a bottle. Well, not a brand new bottle. Lesson learned.” He brushed my hair to the side and made sure I wasn’t bleeding through the bandages. “Do you want to lie on the couch? Do you think that’ll help?”
“You just want the bed.”
“Is that an invitation?” He slid in beside me. “You need a recliner. It’d probably give you the proper angle to sleep.”
“Oh god, do not order furniture. I don’t want to wake up to find more crap in my living room.”
He maneuvered around me, taking a pillow and propping it against his chest. “Then pretend I’m a piece of furniture.”
“Brad,” I protested.
“Just give it a try. I can’t make up for what happened, but I want to do something to make this better.”
“It’s not your fault. It’s theirs. You know that.”
“It doesn’t matter. I should have been there. If you still worked undercover, I would have made sure to keep my phone close. This transfer was supposed to keep you out of harm’s way. But I royally screwed up. I promise it’ll never happen again.”
“You can’t blame yourself. I called late. You were probably asleep.”
“I was with Carrie.”
I nudged him playfully in the ribs. “Twice in two days. I thought you had a rule about that.”
“We broke it off, so we thought we’d take the weekend and end things on a high note.”
I pulled away, stunned. “What happened?”
“Lie down, Liv.” He stroked the bandage wrapped around my hand. “She met someone else and wants to give it a real shot.”
“I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be. I knew what it was. We were just having fun. I was a placeholder or a seat warmer.”
“Bad metaphor.”
“That’s not how I meant it.” The deep velvety chuckle washed over me, and I realized that was my favorite sound in the entire world. “But that’s why I didn’t hear your call, why I didn’t hang out with you that night.” He licked his lips. “I should have been with you instead.”
“Don’t be ridiculous. You’re entitled to a life outside of work.”
“It’s complicated. You know that.” He adjusted so he could look at me. “But there’s nowhere else I’d rather be than with you. On duty or off, it doesn’t matter. I won’t make that mistake again.” He ran a hand gently against my cheek. “We should get some sleep. I have to be sharp for court tomorrow. Are you feeling any better yet?”
I nodded, unsure what to say. After a few minutes, the pills kicked in enough to take the edge off, and I found a comfortable position. For the next few hours there was nothing but blissful oblivion, which ended too quickly when Brad’s alarm clock went off.
Thirty-six
Emma looked up from her spot at the table. “You don’t look so good, Liv. Come, sit down. Do you have a headache?”
“I don’t know.”
“What do you mean you don’t know?” She pressed the back of her hand against my forehead, biting her lip and frowning.
“Em,” I shrugged away from her, “I’m fine.”
But she didn’t believe me and checked my vitals. “Well, you appear to be okay.”
“That’s what I said.” I put my head in my hands. “I didn’t sleep well.” I turned to find Brad manning the stove. “How’d you sleep?”
“Better than I should have.” He turned to face me. “Does your neck still hurt?”
“It’s not great.”
“Shoulder too?” he asked.
“I’ll be okay.”
Emma washed her hands and removed the bandage at my neck. “It looks like everything’s healing. The internal stitches should melt away in a few more days.” She turned to Brad. “You don’t look so good either. What did you two do after I left? I thought you were going to make sure Liv took it easy. I hope you didn’t have her up all night working on some stupid case. She’s supposed to be resting, Bradley.”
“Em,” I warned, “leave him alone.”
Brad gripped the counter, internally debating with himself for a moment before speaking. “I’m not the reason she looks like that. I didn’t aggravate Liv’s injury and guilt-trip her into not taking her medicine. But I guess that’s okay since you don’t have to listen to her groan and whimper all night.”
“Liv, what’s he talking about?”
“Nothing.”
Emma swallowed. “The hairbrush. Shit. I thought you said you were okay.”
“I guess not.”
Emma examined the wounds again. “I’m sorry, Liv. This never should have happened.”
Brad’s cheek twitched, and he turned back to the stove. This was eating him up inside, and no matter what I said, it wouldn’t make a damn bit of difference. He knew the truth, but until the bastards were in custody, my partner would continue to blame himself.
Emma replaced that bandage with a fresh one. “On a scale of one to ten, what’s your pain level?”
“I don’t know. A five.”
She gave me a look. “Which would translate to an eight.” She reached for the prescription bottle. “Take these as directed. Less if you can handle it, but only if you can handle it.” She gave Brad a look. “Happy?”
“Nope.” He finished making breakfast burritos, rolled them up, and put them on plates. He put one down in front of me and the other in front of Emma. He wrapped a napkin around his. “I gotta get ready for court. I’ll be back tonight. If anything pops up, Voletek knows to call you. I’ll try to get a progress report and see what I can find out.”
“Okay.” I gave him an encouraging smile. “Have fun testifying.”
He snorted. “Yeah, right.”
He disappeared out the front door, and I locked it behind him. I stared at the maps taped to the back of my door for a moment, wondering when these killers would strike again. Ballistics indicated two shooters. That meant we had two killers. Diego Eisner and Gravelly Voice. Up until now, I believed Carter Moore hadn’t killed anyone, but that would change. The ringleader would make sure of it. Their next hit would come with a body count. They might plan a perfect escape, but they weren’t planning a perfect crime. The man in charge liked to kill. He proved it with Jonathan Gardner, an
d based on the message he wrote in my blood, he now wanted to kill cops.
When I didn’t return to the table, Emma stepped into the hallway. “Liv, I didn’t know. You could have called me last night or made a run to the hospital to get things checked out. If I’d known you were in that much pain—”
“Don’t worry about it.” I took the maps off the door and spread them out on the coffee table. I didn’t tell Emma what I was doing and left the whiteboard turned to the profiles so she wouldn’t realize what case I was working on. As far as she knew, these were the facts Logan had wanted Brad to expound on for court today. “You didn’t mean to hurt me.” But someone did. And I had to do everything in my power to make sure he didn’t hurt or kill someone else.
“You need to eat, especially with those pills.” She brought my plate into the living room. “How much sleep did you get last night?”
“Not enough, but I can’t lie down right now. It helps to focus on something else.”
“What are you focusing on? What is this?” She sat down on the couch, and Gunnie jumped up beside her.
“It’s a clusterfuck of a case.” I reached for the burrito and took a bite. It’d be next to impossible to work with Emma watching my every move, but I knew they’d strike soon. It’d been too long. They stole the police uniforms for a reason. The last time they stole a uniform, they used it the next morning. They weren’t going to wait on this. “Do you mind turning on the TV?”
She searched for the remote while I finished breakfast. “What channel?”
“Flip through the locals. I want to see if there’s any news.”
She stopped on the tail-end of a local morning show, getting distracted by a cooking demonstration. That worked for me. While she and Gunnie watched a woman whisk eggs and chop chives, I sat down at the end of the couch and turned on my computer.
Diego Eisner, I typed his name into the corrections database. Once I had his prisoner number and release date, I grabbed my phone and sent a text to Mac. She called me a few minutes later.
“Hey, Liv, how are you feeling?”
“Okay. Where do we stand?” I asked while Emma watched me out of the corner of her eye. “Any progress on that pet project?”
“I haven’t come up with anything. The guys in homicide have been breathing down my neck for answers. The deep dive on Carter Moore didn’t turn up anything. He hasn’t turned his phone back on. The phone company gave us access to his records, but I haven’t found anything in his texts or calls.”
“No calls from unregistered numbers or burners?” I asked.
“No. The only people who call him are work, family, or his roommate.”
“Nothing else?”
“A few telemarketers, but I ran them too. I got a list of everyone who played video games with your first vic and Michael Tolliver. We ran through them and cross-referenced them to our persons of interest but nothing popped.” She lowered her voice. “Detective Voletek thinks Carter hooked up with the crew in the real world and they only communicate in person.”
“But we believe Carter gained info on Star Cleaners from listening to his roommate and Gardner play video games. Has that changed? Did Tolliver say anything?”
“As far as I know, that’s still the working theory. Tolliver’s been nothing but cooperative. He’s had an alibi for three of the crimes.”
“What about our other suspect?”
“Diego Eisner?”
“Yeah, unless you got a third ID.”
“Sorry.”
“Okay, so tell me about Diego.”
“I really shouldn’t.”
That meant there was something to tell. “Why not?” I reached for my glass and drained it, so I’d have an excuse to go into the kitchen. Once I was out of Emma’s earshot, I said, “I know he has a sheet. He served time for armed robbery. More than likely, he’s one of the two shooters. We think he must have hooked up with the ringleader while in prison, but we’re not sure. I haven’t been able to get a look at his prison records. Brad said he had a juvie record that was sealed. Do you know if anything’s in the works to get that unsealed?”
“Voletek’s working on that. We should know more soon.”
“But you already know, don’t you?” Before Mac came to work at the PD, she’d been a hacker and a damn good one.
“He used to run with a crew during his misspent youth. From what I’ve found, most of them are dead or incarcerated. Two are still alive and walking free.”
“Names?”
She hesitated. “You can’t touch this, Liv. I don’t want to tempt you.”
“Is there something worth touching?”
“If there is, promise me you’ll let Voletek touch it.”
“Fine, but make sure you warn Jake that afterward he might have to go through sensitivity training or face sexual harassment charges.”
She laughed. “Will do.” She lowered her voice “Aubrey Shaw and Mitchell Blake.”
“Well, Aubrey’s out, assuming she’s a she. What about Mitchell?”
“He teaches sixth grade math. No known criminal activity since reaching adulthood. But I’m sure Voletek will follow up with both of them once he officially gets their names.”
“Anything else I should know?”
“You shouldn’t even know this.”
“Do we know when the crew might strike again or what their target is?”
“Lisco found marked subway maps in Diego’s apartment, along with a map that had the LockBox pickup routes marked. She assumed he obtained that information from the driver they killed.”
“Most likely.”
“Only one route corresponded to the markings we found on the map of the subway system. We can’t be certain, but we think that’s the target.”
From what I recalled, LockBox altered its routes every day. “When’s LockBox supposed to run that route?”
“Tomorrow night.”
Thirty-seven
The sound of knocking drew my attention away from the computer screen. I blinked a few times to clear my blurry vision and stood up. My vision clouded even more, and I grabbed the arm of the couch and waited for it to clear.
“Liv, sit down. I got this.” Emma shooed Gunnie away from the front door and peered through the peephole.
“Who is it?” I asked.
“A cop with a gift basket.” She unlocked the door.
“Hey, DeMarco,” a member of the protection detail said, “we intercepted this suspicious looking package. It was delivered to your desk at the precinct. Someone’s got expensive taste.” He glanced into my apartment. “Where do you want it?”
“I’ll take it.” Emma held out her hands.
“It’s heavy.”
“Just put it on the chair, Frank.” I pointed to the spot beside the front door. “Hey, do you guys want some coffee and muffins?”
“That’d be great.”
“Help yourself to the stack of pastry boxes. They came yesterday, so they might be a little stale.”
“I’m sure they’re fine, just as long as the coffee’s fresh.”
“It’s from this morning.” I turned to Emma. “Can you fill up that big thermos with whatever’s left in the pot?”
“No problem.” She smiled at Frank while he stuffed one of the mini muffins into his mouth and knelt down to pet Gunnie who’d been sniffing his shoe.
“How you doing, DeMarco? You staying out of trouble?”
“Nope,” I said.
He laughed. “Just like your old man.”
Emma returned with the thermos. He tucked it under his arm and grabbed the pastry boxes. “When you guys need a refill, just bring back the thermos,” Emma said.
“Thanks, ladies. I appreciate it.”
Emma locked the door and poked around at the newest gift basket. “Who’s sending you expensive chocolates, cognac, and a get well bouquet?”
At the mention of chocolates and cognac, my stomach dropped. Brad should have finished in court a few hours ago, but I had
n’t heard from him. I thought it was strange but figured he was bogged down at the precinct or went home to get some sleep. “Is there a card?” If my partner did what I think he did, I’d kill him.
Emma sifted through the packaging, removing the two boxes of gourmet artisan chocolate and the $200 bottle of liquor. Then she lifted the flower arrangement out of the basket. Bright blue, purple, and white flowers spread in every direction. She put the crystal vase on the table and handed me the card.
I would have hand-delivered it but figured you’d have me arrested. I know how much you enjoy doing that. Feel better, Detective.
“Who sent it?” Emma studied the chocolates before picking up the cognac. “Do you have a lover I don’t know about?”
“Axel Kincaid.” I put the card down and reached for my phone.
“The nightclub owner?”
“Uh-huh.” I drummed my fingers against the table. “You better answer your damn phone, Fennel.”
“How do you know him?”
“I arrested him.”
She gave me a look. “Okay, so why is he sending you a gift basket?”
“That’s what I’d like to know.” On the third ring, Brad picked up. “What did you do?”
“Liv, is everything okay?” Brad asked.
“You tell me. I just got a get well gift from Axel Kincaid.”
“Huh, that’s weird.” Brad ignored my accusatory tone. “Look, I gotta jump off here. Jake and I are in the middle of something. He thinks the crew’s set to move on their next target tomorrow night. So we need to focus on this, but I should be back in a couple of hours. We can talk then.”
I stared at the end call message and let out a frustrated growl.
Emma held out the box. “Chocolate?”
“Ugh.”
She lifted the lid, stopping momentarily to eye me. “You don’t think these are poisoned, do you?”
“No, if Axel wanted me dead, he’d shoot me. He wouldn’t send a three hundred dollar gift basket just to get rid of me.”
“More like five.” Emma picked up one of the dark chocolate pieces and took a bite.
“I thought you were opposed to processed sugar.”