She blinked. “Ouch. Sorry to hear that.”
“That’s life in sunny Mexico. Let’s just say that I understand your need to find Detective Warren’s killer.”
“Rob,” she corrected quietly.
“What?”
“Rob. His name was Rob. Nobody ever called him Detective Warren.”
As if responding to a summons, her partner’s ghost materialized on the bench seat beside her. “Yeah. Make him call me Rob, or I’m going to think he’s talking about my dad.”
Soldano nodded. “Sorry. I’ll call him Rob, if you’d rather.”
Rob snorted. “I’d rather.”
“Yes,” Anya said. “I’d prefer that.”
Soldano removed a manila file from his bag, one of the case files from the precinct. He put it on the tabletop and slid it over to her. “We got a match.”
Chapter Five
Anya grabbed the folder and opened it up eagerly. A photograph of a man with a triangular face and protruding ears glared up at her.
“That’s him,” Rob whispered. “I’d know that face anywhere.”
Even though she had the information right in front of her, her living partner recited the data from heart. “Reginald Harper. Twenty-six years old. Ex-con with three armed robbery priors, the first one from when he was just thirteen. He’s served two sentences, both for five years, the most recent one ending in parole this May. He hasn’t seen his parole officer in over a month, so we don’t have an absolute current address, but we do know that his mom lives on Jefferson.”
She grabbed her purse and took out a twenty-dollar bill. “Let’s go.”
“Hold up,” Soldano cautioned. “First of all, we can’t go in there, guns blazing, without a warrant. The A.D.A. is working on getting that from the judge for us now. Second, we don’t have any reason to arrest him yet.”
“Excuse me?” Rob objected.
Anya took up the refrain. “What do you mean? We have an eye-witness to the fact that he shot Rob in the street. Me. What more do we need?”
“We need caution.” He sat back. “Harper is the mayor’s nephew.”
She slapped her hand on the mug shot. “Oh, for Christ’s sake. Are you kidding me?”
“No. And Mayor Evans protects his own. We all know that. I’m actually amazed that any charges have ever stuck to this guy. Evans has made a dozen other raps just… go away.”
The corruption in the mayor’s office was hardly a new story. It was an open secret all through the city that no matter what you’d done, no matter how much evidence was stacked up against you, if you were in Evans’ inner circle, then you were as good as innocent. The bad dealings of City Hall had been a personal crusade for the last daytime anchor on Channel Five, and that journalist had ended up on a slab. Her death had been ruled as a suicide, but everybody in the precinct had known what it was.
Murder.
Soldano took the folder out of her hand and closed it when Marty came back. She had a huge glass of ice cubes and soda, as well as a nasty-looking mess of scrambled eggs, chopped onions, chili and salsa. A few slices of jalapeno garnished the disaster on the plate she put in front of him.
Anya raised an eyebrow. “I could say something about stereotypes.”
“Grab a donut to go with your coffee, and so could I.” He flashed that smiled again. “Thanks, Marty.”
Rob shook his head as the waitress walked away, his eyes fixed by the horror on Soldano’s plate. “That is a dragon-breath special if ever I saw one.”
Her new partner unloaded a major splash of hot sauce onto his lunch while Anya watched. “I can’t believe you’re going to eat that.”
Soldano dug in. “Believe it.” He shoveled forkful into his mouth.
She sipped her coffee and pulled the folder back from him. He let her take it. “So, I know how good the A.D.A. is at this, but if we don’t have probable cause, then we’ll never get a judge to sign off on a warrant in an election year.”
“No, we won’t,” he agreed. “But if we catch him red-handed at his old tricks, there’ll be nothing the mayor can do… other than have us murdered before trial, but don’t think Evans has started stooping that low yet. And I’m not sure his stupid nephew would give him occasion to start.”
“Well, if Evans hasn’t gone there, I know he has friends who have.” She took a bite of her own food. “Remember Charee Baker, the old anchor on Channel Five?”
She gestured toward the on-going news broadcast on the silent televisions above their head. Soldano glanced up, then nodded. “Yeah. She killed herself. Carbon monoxide poisoning. It wasn’t suicide.”
“That’s what the autopsy said.”
“The M.E. is in Evans’ pocket. Always has been. I can’t tell you the number of times tat Rob and I picked up a clear shooting victim whose cause of death got listed as cardiac arrest.” She scowled and finished her coffee.
“Well, in all fairness, a bullet does have a way of arresting heart functions,” Soldano said cynically.
“Too soon,” Rob objected. Anya shot him a side-eye but held her silence.
Her new partner said, “All right, then. We take it out of City Hall’s jurisdiction and take it federal.”
“The feds won’t get involved in this.”
“They might, if the case involves transport of drugs or other illegal substances across state lines. I’ve got a buddy at the FBI who’s actually in town right now, working on a trafficking angle right now.” He sipped his soda. “I already called her.”
Anya looked through the folder, taking in Harper’s prior arrests and the records of the sort of company he kept. If the man wasn’t a drug mule, she’d eat her shoes. “He was in the area of a known crack house when we tried to stop him.”
“What happened that night?”
It was an innocent and obvious question. Anya sighed. “Rob and I were working a case about a suspicious death in the 600 block of Jefferson. Young girl, very young, naked and dropped in an alley behind a dumpster, needle in her arm. The surveillance video from the pawn shop across the street showed someone dumping her out of a car.”
She crossed her arms and leaned her elbows on the table while Soldano listened and ate.
“We showed up at the scene, and it was obvious that this girl hadn’t done this to herself. There were ligature marks on her wrists and elbows, and her wrists were still bound in front of her. Clearly a murder, or at least a kidnapping, right?
I was helping the crew document the scene, and Rob went out to the street end of the alley to look around. I was coming out to join him. A late-model sedan comes rolling by, and it’s the exact same car that dumped her. Same plates. Same driver.
“So Rob pulls out his badge and orders them to stop. They start to speed up. He runs after them, and I’m right behind him. Then this asshole…“ She jabbed her finger into the picture of Harper. “…Then this asshole hangs right out the passenger side window with a .32. Puts one in my partner’s chest. Car speeds away.”
As she ended the story, she realized that her hands were clenched into white-knuckled fists. Her belly shook with rage, and she tried to calm herself. Soldano was watching her carefully.
“I want to get this guy so bad,” she said through clenched teeth.
“I want to help you. What kind of car was it? What plate?”
“2010 Chevrolet Malibu. Dark olive drab in color. Vanity license plate – KILLAH.”
He shook his head. “Nothing like truth in advertising.”
“I know, right?”
He sent a long text, and then put his phone aside. “Let’s order dessert. It’ll take my bud a minute or two to get here.”
They sat in silence for a long moment, Soldano finishing his food, Anya fidgeting with her empty coffee mug. The silent television screen flashed infomercials.
“What was the other thing?” she asked.
“The other thing?” He looked confused, a tiny line appearing betw
een his eyebrows.
“You said you had two things to show me.”
He grinned. “I can’t tell you. I have to show you in person.”
“Don’t do me like that, Soldano,” she grumbled.
“Carter. Call me Carter.”
“Fine. Don’t do me like that, Carter.”
He laughed, and she loved the sound. She almost literally kicked herself under the table. “I get the feeling…,” he said, “…that you hate surprises.”
“The only thing I hate worse is fleas.”
Carter shook his head. “Wow. Okay. Listen, if we manage to get the FBI on the case and they collar Harper, I won’t just tell you about the other thing, I’ll give it to you.”
“We’re going to get the FBI on the case and nab this jerk no matter what. You don’t have to bribe me.”
“Wow, are you a hard case! Just say yes, Anya.”
She liked the way his voice sounded when it wrapped around her name. She hesitated.
He saw her moment of weakening and repeated himself, sounding like a demon seducing a soul. “Just say yes.”
Anya looked up into his eyes, and he was looking back into hers. No games. No lies. She felt something inside her accomplish the feat of melting and tying itself into knots at the same time.
“Yes,” she whispered.
The air was thick between them, electric, and she had the ridiculous urge to lean over the table and kiss him. She could tell that Carter was fighting an impulse of his own. He took her hand.
They were saved from acting like fools when a woman in a grey trench coat strode into the restaurant and grabbed a chair. She pulled it over to their booth and sat in it, blocking the aisle and shattering the moment between them. Carter released her and returned his hand to his own side of the table.
“Nice timing, killjoy,” Rob grumbled.
The newcomer turned and looked directly at Rob. It was very obvious that this woman could see the ghost sitting in the booth. She said nothing.
Chapter Six
Carter cleared his throat. “Detective Anya White, this is FBI Special Agent Kathy Chudick. She’s posted to the bureau office here in the city.”
She shook her hand. Chudick’s eyes shifted to her from Rob. “A pleasure,” Anya said.
“Likewise.” She held out his hand for the folder. “May I?”
“Of course.”
Chudick reviewed the information while Carter said, “Kathy and I went to college together. We graduated with the same Criminal Justice degree.”
Kathy smirked. “Not the same degree. Mine was much better than yours.”
“Two points. Your GPA was two points better than mine.”
“Two points is all it takes.” She closed the folder. “Thanks for this. As you probably know, human and drug trafficking are both big problems in this city. We’ve been trying to close the net on the group behind it for years. This guy matches the description of a perp we’ve been trying to nab for some time.”
Anya raised an eyebrow. “This guy? He’s just a punk.”
“Yeah, but he’s a punk with connections. Pull the right thread and you can make the whole thing unravel.” She stood up with the folder in hand. “Thanks for this. We’ll be in touch.”
“Wait, what? Just like that?” Rob demanded.
Kathy stopped and looked into the empty seat where the ghost was sitting. “It’s in the Bureau’s hands now. Evans can’t stop it.”
Carter and Anya watched as the agent walked away, their case in her hands. She hated to let it go. She wanted to be the one to put the cuffs on Harper, the one to drag him into the precinct and throw him in a cell so deep he’d never find his way out. Vengeance, though, was no help when City Hall would just interfere and undo everything.
Across the table, Carter seemed to read her mind. “If the Feds grab him, it’s more likely to stand up, and they might even be able to bring Evans down.”
“If. Maybe.” She pushed her mug aside, disgusted. “I hate letting her take this…”
“That’s called inter-agency cooperation,” he said, shrugging. “I like making arrests, too, but won’t it be better to watch this one unfold on TV? We can order pizza.”
She stood up, dumping her money on the table beside her plate. “You’re so weird.”
Rob chuckled. “Look who’s talking.”
Carter paid his tab and accompanied her out into the parking lot. Rob followed a few paces behind, visible only from the waist up. His legs were just mist and a suggestion.
“Listen,” Carter said, taking her hand again. “I’m going back to Farmington tomorrow. I won’t be in the office when you come back. I… I don’t want this to be the last time I see you.”
She looked down at his thumb where it was stroking her skin. He had strong, clean hands. Her grandmother had always said that as a man’s hands went, so went his soul. She wondered if he were strong and clean all the way through.
“There’s only one way to find out,” Rob whispered.
Anya cleared her throat and looked up into Carter’s eyes. He had beautiful eyes. Without saying anything else, she leaned in and kissed him. His lips were as soft and warm as she’d imagined, and the kiss he gave in return was sweet. When they separated, all too soon, she could feel her cheeks burning.
Carter paid his tab and accompanied her out into the parking lot. Rob followed a few paces behind, visible only from the waist up. His legs were just mist.
“I’d like that.” She took a steadying breath and powered through her nervousness. “Maybe this can go back to your place and you can show me whatever it was that you wanted to show me.”
He walked her to her car. “Meet me for dinner tonight, and I’ll show you anything you want to see.”
She opened her door. “Deal.”
He kissed her again, then said, “Great. I’ll pick you up at seven. How’s that?”
“Perfect. I know you know where to find me.”
He walked back to his car, unlocked the door, then hesitated. Before she could say anything, he turned around and came back to her, taking her into his arms and kissing her breath away. She embraced him, pulling him tight, returning everything he gave. Her skin tingled as he pulled away.
“Seven o’clock,” he told her. “I can’t wait.”
She watched him as he drove away, going back to work. As his car disappeared into the traffic pattern, she turned to face Rob, who was smiling from ear to ear.
“I know you didn’t mean to get shot,” she told him, “but I feel like you set this up.”
“I just nudged what needed nudging.” He began to fade. “You can trust him. He’s a good man.”
She could tell that he was leaving, and it broke her heart. A tear rolled down her cheek. “How do you know?” she challenged weakly.
“From this side? You’d be surprised at the things I can see.” He was almost invisible now, faded to a white and gray version of himself. “Congratulations, Wonder Woman. You just found your Superman.”
And then he was gone.
Chapter Seven
Anya had never been so nervous in her life. She had actually put on makeup and a skirt, and now she was standing in her apartment, staring at the clock. Carter had seven minutes to show up.
The phone rang, startling her. She grabbed it a little too quickly and said, “Hello?”
Kathy Chudick’s voice surprised her. “How would you and Carter like to come with us as local coordinators tonight? Have warrant, will serve.”
“There is nothing I would ever want more.”
The FBI agent sounded pleased. “Great. I’ll notify him. We can meet up at the Copper Pot, since we all know where it is. We’ll move out from there.”
***
The restaurant parking lot looked like a cop convention when Anya arrived, changed into work clothes but still wearing her war paint. Carter was standing by his car, quietly waiting, while Chudick issued orders to he
r people.
He saw her coming and smiled. “Hey,” he greeted.
“Hey.”
“Want to go and catch a killer?”
“More than I can say.”
Chudick joined them. “Okay. Harper is at his mother’s house, and we’re going to go and get him. We’ve got two unmarked cars already in the neighborhood, so we know he’s home. You can ride along with me.”
To Catch a Killer Page 3