by Kylie Brant
Since no answers were forthcoming, he reached for the most recent picture of Eggers and turned it over. Morales had obligingly written the man’s contact information on the back. Withdrawing his cell phone, he punched in the number. His mood had taken a turn for the vicious. He figured there was no better time to question the man who might hold the key to this entire case.
“Slumming?”
Turning around at the familiar voice, a smile spread over Risa’s face. “Ramsey!” She hugged the other woman, real delight filling her. Although they were colleagues, caseloads kept Raiker’s employees scattered across the country. Their paths didn’t cross often enough.
They parted, and Risa took a quick visual assessment. The woman’s light brown hair was still streaked with highlights that owed nothing to a bottle, but it was longer than her usual shaggy short style. Those shrewd green gold eyes were the same, though, and they regarded her now with a bit of trepidation in them.
“Where’s the new husband?”
She jerked a thumb toward the hallway behind them. “Dev’s getting coffee for everyone. Even the feds like him. He’s good at keeping people at ease.”
He was, Risa recalled. She’d met him only the one time at the couple’s wedding several months ago, but his charm had been readily apparent. As was his devotion to his wife.
“Marriage agrees with you.” She said it lightly, was prepared for the slight grimace she got in response. Ramsey was a self-acknowledged commitment-phobe, so everyone had been shocked when she’d announced her engagement.
“Having Dev agrees with me. He’s a traditional guy, so marriage it is.” Her expression went wry. “He’s also sneaky as hell. Had me in a white dress standing in front of a church before I knew what hit me.”
Risa laughed. Followed her friend’s gaze to Adam’s CCU room across the hall. After returning a glower with the agent stationed outside it, she ignored him. The curtains were closed over the sliding glass door. “Is the doctor in with him?”
Shaking her head, Ramsey lowered her voice. “No, I’m supposed to be in there. I strong-armed Burke into giving me his next turn since we just got here. Then in waltzes some broad I’ve never seen before, and Paulie jumps up like his pants are on fire. They go into a big hug-hug-kiss-best-buddy reunion before he hustles her away. Next thing I know, I can’t get in to see Adam because she’s in there.”
Mystified, Risa asked, “Who is she?”
“That’s just it, none of us know. Well, Paulie obviously does, but you know what it’s like getting information about Adam from him, under any circumstances. He’s in full mamabear mode. And he’s not saying a word.”
A sudden thought struck her. “Adam hasn’t taken a turn for the worse, has he?” Anxiety reared. She’d been splitting her time between here and her mom’s room. Logically she knew someone would have contacted her if he had. But emotions weren’t logical.
“His condition remains unchanged. That’s a quote from the doctor, and she was just by about fifteen minutes ago.” Seamlessly she shifted subjects. “How’s your mom? And what’s this I hear about you shooting a window last night?”
Risa gave a helpless laugh. “She’s fine. And the other’s a long story.”
“You had a narrow escape, I hear.” Ramsey looked across the hall again. There was no activity so she returned her speculative gaze to her friend. “Glad to hear it. Gladder yet to hear that you used your weapon.”
They exchanged a look. Ramsey was the one who’d turned in Risa’s weapon and resignation. The only one that Risa would have trusted to face their intimidating boss with that kind of unwelcome news.
Her gaze slid away. “My palms sweat every time I touch it,” she admitted softly. “And I didn’t even think of drawing it last night when Raiker was shot. What’s that say about me? That I can only put the fear behind me when it’s my neck on the line?”
“Maybe it says you’re healing.” Ramsey had a way of making things sound clear-cut when they seemed anything but. “And it was your mother’s life on the line, too, the way I heard it. As for Adam, why the hell would you have gone after the shooter when his driver was so much closer? Maybe it’s me, but I’m thinking when he wakes up he might be a bit more grateful that you kept him alive rather than chase down Jennings.”
The words made Risa feel a modicum better, even while she still doubted their truth. “Knowing Adam, I wouldn’t be so sure. He was pretty pissed about that bomb destroying his townhouse.”
There was activity across the hall then, and the two of them went silent at the same time Dev Stryker ambled up carefully carrying a tray of coffees. “Risa, you’re lookin’ lovely as ever. No ill effects from last night?”
Ramsey shushed him and his brows shot up. Risa took a coffee from the tray and nodded toward the couple coming out of Adam’s room. Paulie had his arm around a woman with shoulder-length mink-colored hair, and they were speaking in hushed tones as they walked by the trio watching them.
Although she looked closely, Risa could see little of the woman’s features. Even so, when Ramsey gave her a quizzical look, she shook her head. She didn’t recognize her either.
A tall blond man who looked like he could have wandered in on his way to a casting call greeted the duo at the end of the hallway. The three stopped and talked, and it looked like they all knew each other.
“Who is she?” Ramsey muttered as she took a coffee from the tray Dev balanced.
“Who, the woman?” Dev took a sip from the last cup while shoving the empty tray in a nearby trash container. “Her name’s Jaid Marlowe.”
Risa and Ramsey’s attention snapped to him. “How do you know that?” his wife demanded.
“Saw her in the cafeteria earlier. She actually ran into me and made me dump the first tray of coffees I’d bought. Real nice lady. I bought her one to calm her nerves, and we introduced ourselves. Don’t think she drank much of it, though. She seemed pretty upset.”
“Upset.” Ramsey had returned her gaze to the trio down the hallway. “So wonder what Pretty Boy’s story is.”
“Unless you’re talkin’ about me—and as a newlywed you really should be—he’s probably an FBI agent. That’s how Jaid knew Adam. They were in the bureau together.” This time he took their open-mouthed reactions as his due. “It’s the southern charm, ladies. People open up to me.”
Ramsey eyed him coolly over the top of her cup as she drank. “I may mold you into an investigator yet, Stryker.”
“I’m putty in your hands, sugar.” His tone was droll. “Do with me what you will.”
Paulie and the blond stranger were walking their way. During the short exchange with Dev, the woman—Jaid Marlowe—had vanished. When the pair reached them, Risa revised her original estimation. The stranger was older than she’d first thought, mid-forties maybe. Old enough, perhaps, for him to have been a colleague of Adam’s in the bureau.
“Special Agent Tom Shepherd.” Paulie made the introduction in an uncharacteristically brusque manner. “DC sent him out to figure how the field agents screwed up so badly.”
“I wanted to come.” The man gave them a sober look. “Raiker . . . he’s still a legend at the bureau. He dropped in to see me just a few months ago. I was still doing penance in Bismark.” Paulie nodded, as if he’d known about the visit. Probably he had. There was little about Raiker that he wasn’t apprised of.
“He hadn’t realized I’d been banished after he came in and solved that first Mulder kidnapping I worked a few years back. But six weeks after he stopped by, I received word that I was being transferred back to DC.” His eyes strayed to the CCU room across the hall. “He’d never admit it, but I know he put in a word. The man’s still got pull in the agency, even being gone as long as he has.”
He excused himself then and moved toward the agent stationed outside Adam’s door. Since it was the same one Risa had had a go-round with earlier, she was half hoping to listen in on the conversation. But when Paulie caught her eye and gave a slight jerk of his
head, she gave an inner sigh and followed him back into the waiting room, with Ramsey and Dev trailing her.
It didn’t escape her that with Adam out of commission Paulie had lost a great deal of his normal effusiveness and taken over some of their boss’s no-nonsense mannerisms. It wasn’t the same. Wouldn’t be until Adam was better and snapping orders at them all again.
Jett Brandau stuck his head in the door. “You got time?”
Nate looked up from the questions he was jotting down. He hoped to have Javon Emmons and Walter Eggers back in for interviews before the day’s end. With outside investigations embroiling both men, he had to be careful in the information he elicited and the manner in which he did it.
But Jett might have details on Risa’s house fire. “Sure.” He put his pen down and nodded to a chair.
The man looked drawn as he slouched in a seat. “Been a helluva day already.”
“Tell me about it,” Nate responded feelingly.
“Thought you’d like to know . . . I’ve been in contact with the battalion chief from the fire station that responded to the call at Risa’s house. Lloyd Bennett. Good guy.”
“And?”
Jett lifted a shoulder. “And . . . not much. Yet. Place is still smoldering. They had to do a surround and drown—hose down the houses on either side of it to keep the fire from spreading. It was burning pretty hot. He’ll keep me posted when they have more details.”
“Would they be able to determine by now whether there was a forced entry?”
Brows shooting upward, Jett said, “You mean there’s a question of arson? Really? Because if there is, they need to request a fire inspector to look at it.”
“Morales asked because of the investigation,” Nate affirmed. “It should be checked out. I think it’s a stretch to believe the offender targeted Risa, but we need to take every precaution.”
“I hope to God he doesn’t have her in his sights.” Jett tapped his fingers nervously on the arm of the chair.
“You and me both. Like I say, it’s a stretch.” But he damn sure didn’t want to take any chances with Risa’s safety.
“I’ll bug Bennett throughout the day and report back. He owes me a favor.”
Jett seemed to think the city was abounding with people who “owed him.” Nate hoped that for once the man was right.
The conversation lagged. When Brandau didn’t rise, Nate knew the man had something else on his mind. And he was pretty certain what it was.
“You heard about Cass.”
The familiar weight settled in his gut. He nodded, said nothing.
“She knows she screwed up, Nate.” A smile flickered. Disappeared. “Guess she doesn’t need anyone telling her that.”
“It’s too late to tell her anything.” Not that he hadn’t tried, unsuccessfully, time and again. Too often it seemed like he was a helpless bystander watching people he cared about make one destructive decision after another. Cass wasn’t Kristin. At least she hadn’t dragged a kid down with her.
“She wants to talk to you but didn’t want to jam you up. She had to turn in her department-issued cell.”
Nate nodded. It was more likely that IA was holding it for evidence. Additionally she’d have been asked to turn in her access cards, ID, radio, and weapon, along with her shield.
“But she’d like to talk to you, if you think you can meet her and not have it come back on you some way.”
Interest sharpening, Nate asked, “Where is she?”
“Around the corner at Barney’s. That little diner? Shouldn’t be anyone from here at this time in the morning. But if you want me to let her know it should be somewhere else—”
Glancing at the clock, Nate rose. Grabbed his jacket. “I’ll meet her now.” Morales might not be thrilled with the decision, but he’d leave the politics to the brass. There were times when friendship superseded the job.
This was one of those times.
Cass Recker huddled over a coffee at Barney’s cracked laminate counter, the picture of dejection. Nate slid onto the stool next to her, caught the waitress’s eye, and she ambled over. “Coffee.”
Trying for a smile that didn’t quite come off, Cass said, “I wasn’t sure you’d come. That you could.” Then her eyes filled with nerves. “This isn’t going to get you in trouble, is it?”
“Don’t worry about me. How are you doing?” He accepted a steaming mug from the woman in the pink uniform and hoped it was at least as good as Darrell’s.
She lifted a shoulder. “Wishing I’d listened to you. I just can’t believe Donny would do this to me.” Cass lifted her cup to her lips. Drank. “I know what you’re thinking. I’ve taken a lot of shit from him. But this . . . he’s telling them he didn’t make those calls on my cell. That I did it. Can you believe that? He’s implicating me in a burglary ring.”
“Look at me.” He waited until she did. Hoped that she was paying attention with her head as well as with her ears. “You have to cut him loose. Here.” He tapped her chest above her heart. “This is about survival. He’s thrown you to the wolves. You don’t owe him a thing. And if you try to help him, you’re going down with him.” Fear flared in her eyes. Good. Nate hoped to hell she was scared. He was scared for her.
“I know it. I do,” she insisted, when Nate opened his mouth again. “My rep says no contact, and believe me, if he came near me right now, I’d be tempted to put a bullet in him.” Her smile was bitter. “If I hadn’t had to hand in my weapon.”
“Hopefully IA has enough on the burglary ring that ties him to it, and it’ll end up being his word against yours. Cop. Known felon. Balances out in your favor.”
“Cop who’s been colluding with known felon.” Her tone and her eyes were bleak. “Believe me, I know the score here. I might lose my shield over this.”
He didn’t give her false platitudes. They both knew she was right. Whatever the outcome, she wouldn’t be returning to work with him. If she was reinstated, this was a stain that would remain on her record for years to come. Nate leaned in to bump her shoulder companionably. “This’ll give you a chance to catch up on those soap operas you’ve been missing out on.”
“Jesus.” She gave a short laugh, swiped at her eyes. “Shoot me now.”
“You can always go visit your mom and sisters.”
“Two hours in a room with them and I want to jump out a window. Three hours, and they’re lining up to give me a push.”
A thought struck. He hesitated, then said slowly, “Or if you’re really desperate for something to do . . . Kristin has disappeared. Took Tucker with her. They were gone when I got home last night.”
Clearly glad to have something other than her own misery to concentrate on, Cass touched his arm. “Shit. I’m sorry, Nate. Any ideas where she went?”
He shrugged. “No note. Her friends aren’t talking. At least not to me.”
“But they don’t know me. I might get something out of them.” Her expression lightened. “I wouldn’t mind looking into it. It’ll give me something to concentrate on. And I need to take my mind off this mess, or I’m going to jump off a bridge, I swear.”
She sounded only half kidding. He felt a little better about the idea. He had absolutely no idea where to start looking for his sister. Was pissed enough that he probably wouldn’t look right now if it were just Kristin involved. But it wasn’t. It was also Tucker. If Cass was able to get one of Kristin’s friends to open up and give her a general location to look, he could maybe ask for a favor from the police department in that city. Blue to blue. Put them on the lookout for her car. Something.
As it was, she still wasn’t answering her phone. He still didn’t know if Tuck was being taken care of. He wanted to think Kristin had changed. The last week made that hard to believe.
He looked at his friend. “I’d appreciate it, Cass. But think of yourself first, okay? They’d have told you not to leave the area, so don’t. Just get done what you can here. If I get an idea of Kristin’s destination, I can do the r
est.”
“Sure.” She seemed buoyed at the prospect. And Nate knew then just how much she’d been dreading the long, empty days ahead of her.
“Here.” He dug out his keys and took his house key off the ring. “In the kitchen desk drawer, I have a list of her contacts and their numbers. Feel free to look around in their rooms if you think that will help. Lock up and leave the key on the counter. Unlock the house entrance to the garage. I’ll get back in tonight that way.”
Contemplating the key for a moment, she looked like she would cry. Nate felt a familiar tug of panic at the prospect of a female’s tears. But she didn’t. Cass was made of tougher stuff than that. Even if her decision making in her personal life left something to be desired. “You’re a good friend.”
Trying to lighten the mood, he said, “Because I just laid my messy personal baggage at your doorstep? Yeah, I’m a prince.”
Slipping the house key into her pocket, she picked up her coffee mug again. “I wouldn’t go as far as royalty. But you’re a good guy to have on my side.”
“Preliminary autopsy results indicate that Randolph was killed in a manner similar to the other three victims.” Nate was addressing the task force. “The only difference was that she had to cut the remnants of something off his face and head. We think it was some sort of mask or fitted hood. That’s been turned over to the lab for analyzing. Hopefully they can identify it.”
“The change in location was also a difference,” Finnegan drawled. “Does this mean he’s branching farther abroad?”
“It means he went to a lot of trouble to scout locations for the crimes before he ever began carrying them out.”
Nate jerked around when Risa’s voice sounded behind him. He hadn’t heard her come in. Hadn’t expected to see her at all today. The quick once-over he gave her was as involuntary as it was instinctive. She’d been to hell and back in the last several hours. Her voice was far raspier than normal, probably from the smoke she’d inhaled. Those incredible eyes had dark shadows beneath them, and there were some scrapes and bruises on her face. But she was alive and standing. He’d been assured she was fine. But seeing for himself had relief swamping him.