“Breathe,” he yelled. “Come on, Maggie.” He lowered his head again. “Jesus, breathe!” Nick heard the sirens. He hoped one was an ambulance.
Maggie felt the warmth.
Heard the sirens.
An ambulance.
Coming to get her. To take her. To the hospital.
No!
She saw Rayney. Saw him in the pool of blood. Saw his heart lying in his hands. An X-Acto knife carefully placed in his pocket.
She saw a man.
Saw his smile.
His eyes laughing. The man. In the blue jacket. Blue jacket. Blue surgery scrubs. And a face. Finally a face. Marcus Galen.
The shadows poured into her mouth and eyes. Into her lungs and heart. Into every part of her.
No, Maggie’s brain screamed, not again. The dark was not getting her. Not yet. She was not finished. Not while Marcus Galen still walked around with that fucking smug look on his face. Not while she could still do something.
Air.
Maggie pushed the shadows from her lungs and inhaled, breaking the surface after staying under too long. Her eyes opened and she saw him. Rayney… no that wasn’t right. Rayney was dead. Heart in his hands. Dublowski. Nick. His eyes were wide. She breathed again.
Warm.
She pushed the dark out, then pulled the warmth back in.
Air.
Again.
The dark couldn’t have her. Not yet. Not while Marcus Galen still walked around.
“Are you okay?” Dublowski cried. “Maggie? Please!”
She nodded. Pulled the air in and pushed it out. One breath. Then another. And another. Her head spun. She saw the dark winding around her legs, pulling at her ankles, running its tongue up and down her arms, across her scars. She pushed it away. There was work to do. Maggie was going to stop Marcus Galen and she was going to make it painful.
The sirens.
No, her brain shrieked. No ambulance. No hospital. Not this time.
Maggie sat up slowly. “Get me in.”
“Just relax. The EMTs can look you over.”
Cars were pulling up. Three squads. An ambulance.
“Get me in.”
She struggled, like a fish lying in the bottom of a boat, fighting to get back where she belonged. If Dublowski wouldn’t help, she’d do it herself. Maggie focused. She had to get up. Had to stand. But how? How did she move her feet, her hands? How did she stand? Part of her brain took over and brought Maggie to her knees, then to her feet. Nick reached out to steady her. He tried to help her up the steps, but she pushed him aside and was in the house.
Light.
It soaked through her skin, warming her. Maggie could hear voices, feel feet hit the ground. People were coming. She bit her lip so the sting would make her focus. Something warm ran down her chin. She pulled her shirt out and wiped the blood from her mouth. Her shirt. Why the hell was she wearing a polo shirt? Everyone would see. Everyone would see her arms. She reached for a jacket from the coat tree near the door, then stopped. She shouldn’t touch anything. Nothing. No mistakes. Galen wanted mistakes, but she would never give him what he wanted. Not ever again.
“Okay. I want everyone to keep their hands to themselves. No one touch anything in this house,” Dublowski yelled. “I want a command station set up outside this door.”
“Sir, I’ve gotta wait for someone from my area,” one of the uniforms said.
“Fuck that shit.” He was on his cell phone to Tierney. “Chief, I’m here and it’s a fresh scene.”
“Maggie?”
Dublowski paused. “She’ll be fine. Look, they’re gonna be kicking me out. We need Harley and his crew. They know what to look for.”
“Let me make some calls over to the Third and see what I can do. In the meantime, do what you can to keep everyone back. The Third handles about as many homicides as my grandmother.”
“Thanks, Chief.”
“Use the ambulance if you need to,” Tierney said gently. “That’s why it’s there.”
“She’ll be fine,” Nick repeated, looking over at Maggie. She was pale, shaky. He could only guess what was holding her up as she studied the body of her friend. Then he saw it. He saw it in her eyes and knew why she stayed in one piece. Maggie Quinn was going to nail Marcus Galen… whether he was guilty or not.
“Okay, you,” Dublowski was pointing at different officers, “you, you, and you. Out. I want this place secured. Take it across the street two houses to either side.”
“But, sir,”
“You’ve got no other detectives on site here which means you are taking orders from me. Got it?” Dublowski barked. “And if anyone has a problem with that, give Superintendent Walker a call.”
“Yes, sir.”
“And I do not want a soul on this premises without my mark on their fucking forehead. Understood?” Dublowski’s voice was strong. He was a detective and he wasn’t going to mess up. “You.” He pointed to an older uniform.
“Sir.”
“Set up outside on the sidewalk. Every person signs in and out. No exceptions. Everyone else, start the canvass. Someone had to see something.”
The uniforms nodded and were gone. Three other officers stood in the room, hands behind their backs, waiting silently. They’ve worked with Quinn, he thought.
“I want no mistakes made here.” The young detective was rock solid. He had to be. “Is that understood? No mistakes.”
They nodded.
“Get the fuck out of my way!”
Dublowski heard Harley’s voice. “Let him in,” he yelled.
“Jesus,” was all the ME said as he looked at the body on the floor. “I was on my way home. Got a call from the chief.”
Everything froze. For a moment, no one moved or spoke. All eyes were on Quinn and the body lying at her feet.
“Are you okay, baby?”
“You should get started. It’s a fresh scene.” Her voice was flat.
“Maybe you should…” he began.
The look on her face stopped him. In a moment his gloves were on. Maggie reached for a pair from Harley’s kit. She stopped, looked down at Rayney, and handed the gloves to Dublowski.
“You sure?” the detective asked.
Maggie nodded. If she touched anything, the case would be jeopardized. That’s what Galen was counting on. That’s why he chose Rayney. He knew Maggie wouldn’t be able to stay clear. That’s what he wanted. He wanted to rub her nose in it, rub so hard that she’d screw up. Well, she wouldn’t make it that easy. Maggie drew in as much air as she could then backed away. Six feet back. She was an observer. Nothing more.
“No mistakes,” she whispered, looking at Dublowski.
“No mistakes,” the young detective nodded. “I could use a second set of eyes, though.” It was Quinn’s house. If anything was out of place, she’d know.
“Not alone,” Harley said. “Lawyers’ll say she planted evidence, not searched for it.”
Nick nodded. “Okay, I need officers.” Nick was surrounded by cops he didn’t know. He pointed. “You two. You are to accompany Miss. Quinn. You are not to take your eyes off Miss Quinn. If, for any reason, you feel her actions are inappropriate or are interfering with this investigation, you are to remove her. Do you understand?”
The two men didn’t know how to respond.
“Do you understand?” Dublowski said harshly.
Maggie had to look to make sure it was the rookie she’d met only weeks ago.
“Yes, sir,” the officers answered in unison.
“Just tell me what you see,” Dublowski said to Maggie.
The two officers followed as she walked the pattern, a loose spiral, starting at the body and working out. The image of Antoine Rayney lying on
the floor slapped her again as the dark had a good laugh.
“Not now,” she said quietly, pushing the image out. No room. No room for anything but the case. It wasn’t her home anymore. It was the crime scene. It wasn’t Rayney. It was the victim. And she needed to make the pieces fit.
No signs of struggle. The victim could take care of himself, but the attacker was a big man. Bigger by five inches and forty pounds. Still, the victim wouldn’t go down easy, Maggie told herself. Rayney never went down without a fight. Last dollar of Monopoly. Last man on the board.
The crossword. She left it on the end table and now it was gone. Rayney never touched it. He always left her shit lying around, made her clean up after herself.
“The end table,” she called out. “Prints.”
“Got it,” Dublowski said, making a note to himself.
She walked into the kitchen, paused a moment before looking out the back door. The uniforms watched as Maggie stared into nothing.
“Check the refrigerator,” she called. Nick was there in a second. His gloved hand pulled the door open. Full. Maggie stared at the floor for a moment “He was here for a while. Print everything in the refrigerator. Cabinets. Appliances. Everything. Then check the garage and the backyard.”
Nick paused.
“Grocery day.” Maggie popped a piece of gum in her mouth. She focused out the window. The garage. The door was slightly ajar. You had to give the thing a good slam to make it close. Rayney knew that. Galen didn’t. “The car.”
Her eyes moved from the garage to the back door as she played it out in her head. “He carried the groceries up the steps, put them down so he could unlock the door. He was taken from behind. Three-thirty, four. That’s when he usually gets back. Check with Harley. See if there’s a receipt in the victim’s wallet. He always keeps receipts.”
“And it should list a time,” Nick nodded.
“Exactly.” Maggie opened the back door, flipped on the light. Her eyes scanned the cement steps. “One quick blow to the back of the head. That’s the only way he could’ve taken Rayney out and still leave the house in one piece. One quick smack, then haul him in,” Maggie swallowed as she stepped back into the kitchen. “Finish the job… put the groceries away. Out by four-thirty. Maybe five. There should be witnesses. People coming home for work. Someone should’ve seen something.”
Her eyes settled on the cabinet near the sink. The one with the lock. “There’s an X-Acto in there.”
Dublowski nodded. “It’s unlocked.” Inside were knives, medication, razors. Anything lethal, but no X-Acto knife. “Not here. We’ll get prints.” Nick’s cell phone rang. “This is Dublowski.”
How did he know? Maggie kept asking the same question. How the fuck did he know everything? Small pieces shuffled into place. Without a word, Maggie ran into the backyard. Where the cat jumped the fence. Where her gut told her to look that day. Where it was dark.
“We’re the lucky winners,” the young detective said loudly as he pocketed the phone and stepped back into the living room. “All right, folks. As of right now, this homicide is falling under special jurisdiction. Officers and technicians from Area One will be responsible for processing this scene. District 18 beat officers are requested to remain and assist.” He looked at one of the senior officers. “Pass that information around. Harley, you want to check his wallet for a grocery receipt with today’s date. We’re looking for a time.”
The ME nodded.
“Maggie, we…” Nick stopped. Where the hell was she?
She stood in the backyard, eyes fixed on the house, the large picture windows in the library and kitchen. Without curtains, she could see almost everything on the first floor. Maggie remembered taking the curtains down because the dark loved curtains. The day after she and Rayney visited the warehouse on Pershing. After the lights were set up. It didn’t seem important then. No one could see in, not with the privacy fence.
“Maggie?” Nick was standing in the kitchen door.
“He watched me.” Her voice was cold. “That’s the only way he could know. It’s the only way. He had to watch.”
“Come on. We should…”
“He watched everything. Everything. What was I thinking? I should’ve known. I should’ve seen it.”
Her eyes scanned the back fence. The security light shined on a lot of the yard, but not all of it. Near the corner. That’s where he’d be. In the dark. Maggie inhaled deeply, then stepped out of the light. The shadows crushed her as she reached the fence. Two pieces of wood were barely out of alignment. She struggled for air as she moved one piece, then the other. That’s where he was. She pushed through the fence to the service street where the dark fell like waves on her. Maggie fought to focus. He could park a couple blocks away, pretend he was taking a walk and dive right back here. No one would notice because he would fit right in. He would make sure he fit in and then be ready with some smooth excuse in case someone caught him watching.
“Come inside,” Nick said softly, pulling her back into the yard. “I’ll have the team check the area.”
Maggie stumbled into the light and bent over, pulling as much air as she could into her body. She wiped her face on the front of her shirt and breathed again.
“You okay?” Nick asked.
Maggie ignored him as she climbed the steps to the house. “You want to hit the place with Luminol. Just in case.”
On her way to the library, she paused near Harley. “See if he has a padlock key in his right pants pocket. Not on a key chain. Loose.”
Harley nodded. “Do you need anything?”
“Paper.” Maggie looked down at the body of her friend.
Harley reached into his kit for a notebook and pen. She swallowed and started listing the pieces of the puzzle she’d found.
A giggle.
Not now.
The dark slapped against her back, not ripping, not tearing. Just washing up against her. Letting Maggie know it would be patient. It would wait until she was ready. She pushed the shadows back and continued her notes on Rayney.
Not Rayney.
The victim.
Not her home.
The crime scene.
Twenty minutes later, the lab rats arrived. The A-Team. Sterling, Padilla, McLean. Like Harley, they stood still as rock after they saw the body.
“I want prints in here. Everything in the kitchen, the back door. Check that end table. There’s a good chance he touched it,” Dublowski said. “We need to hit the garage and the car. Let’s black light the place, too. Just to make sure we see the big picture.”
“Sterling and I can do the Luminol, but we should wait for Mort on the prints. He’s better with latents,” said Randy Padilla. “Chief said he caught him at home. Should be here any time.”
At sixty-six, Mort Geller was too good to retire. If there was a print, he’d find it.
“Sterling, you handle the black light,” Nick said. “Randy, I want you to start outside. Quinn thinks he took the victim at the back door.”
Padilla nodded.
Maggie hovered, staying just outside the circle of men. “Maybe you should leave,” Nick said softly. “I can have an officer drive you.”
Where? Maggie thought. There was no place to go. This was her home. No. Not anymore. Not her home. The crime scene. Not Rayney. The victim.
“I should check out the library,” she finally replied. “See if there’s anything.”
He looked at the two officers. “One of you pick up outside. See what kind of support they need with the canvass. The other stay here with Miss Quinn.”
Harley motioned for Dublowski. “I saw him today.”
“What?” Nick quickly closed the distance between them.
“Marcus. After the autopsy. I was working on Murphy’s report. He came by
my office.”
“I left you at twelve thirty.”
“And he was there at ten after one.”
“How long did he stay?”
“Ten minutes. Maybe.”
“What did he want?”
“What do you think? He wanted me to call off Maggie. Said he was innocent.”
“Yeah, right,” Dublowski snorted.
“I… I think… maybe… Look, I said…”
It was the first time Nick had seen Ed Harley stumble over his words.
“I told him if he was innocent, he had nothing to worry about.” The ME swallowed. “But if he did it, Maggie would prove it. Nothing would stop her.” Harley’s eyes moved back to the young man lying dead on the floor.
“It’s not your fault.”
Ed Harley looked across the room to Maggie as she stood in the doorway of the library.
“Baby, I didn’t mean…”
“It’s not your fault,” she repeated. “He already had it in his head. You were his alibi. I’ll lay money he has another one for the morning and one for after he left you,” Maggie said. “It’s not your fault.” It was her fault. She misjudged her opponent and Rayney died.
“We have spatter,” Sterling called out. “On the floor and wall.”
Everyone moved except Maggie.
“That would be my ex-husband.”
Sterling stopped. It was the only time Maggie had ever seen his face move.
“Don’t worry,” Maggie said. “He lived.”
She remembered Rayney bandaging Richard, wiping up the blood. Later, he yelled at her for not eating. What did they eat that night anyway? She couldn’t remember and it didn’t matter.
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