She knew better than to be rash. In a case like this, Hailey had asked CSU to run the prints for known felons. Though it was time-consuming, the process was easy enough. Technology had come a long way and prints could be scanned and compared with both California’s justice system records as well as NCIC, the National Criminal Information Center, which the FBI maintained.
“No felony matches?”
Sydney shook her head. “No, but we’ve got a dozen partials that couldn’t be matched.”
“It’s like a bus—you’ve got kids in and out of there all the time.”
“I’ve got some adult prints, too, but nothing comes up.”
“And the blood?” Hailey asked. The initial process with blood was to take samples to identify the blood types of the victims and rule out a third party.
“AB and O, both positive. Victims’ types.”
“And in the places you’d expect them?”
“The pattern of blood splatter looks consistent with the theory that they killed each other.”
“And they were known for being aggressive,” Hailey added. “There had been two instances of domestic disturbance in the past.”
Sydney nodded.
“What about toxicology?”
“Won’t be back for weeks. The Unit’s way too backed up on more pressing cases.”
Hailey knew there were convicts awaiting lab results before going to trial—men and women who sat behind bars while the labs scurried to prove whether or not they were really guilty of anything. “Then, we’ve got to close it. The Dennigs murdered each other.”
Sydney gathered her notes, started to stack them for Hailey to take with her. Hailey was thankful the case was over.
She’d probably spent fifty hours on it, enlisted the help of at least three other cops to make calls and visits to friends, neighbors, and the kids’ school. The case should have been closed at that.
But, because of the nature of the victims—that is, rich and high profile—the chief had pushed the lab to look through the rest of the evidence for anything else.
“How long did it set you guys back?”
“Day and a half, maybe a little more,” Sydney said.
Even in a case where they didn’t have the assailant, CSU could test only a small sample of the evidence brought in—five percent was aggressive. It was too much. Things were scanned with black lights for traces of blood, and then particular spots were tested. But the funds and time to test everything weren’t available. “I’m glad to put it behind us.”
Sydney handed the papers to Hailey, hesitating.
“What’s up?” Hailey asked.
“Seems too simple, you know?”
Hailey paused, thinking maybe it was. But she knew better than to dismiss another cop’s gut. “Can you think of something we should look at again?”
Sydney hesitated, shook her head. “Not a thing.”
“I know what you mean. With the pressure from the chief, it would have felt better to find something more.”
Sydney looked up. “But that’s how it goes, you know? That’s annoying, but it’s not what’s bothering me.”
“What’s bothering you?”
Sydney was quiet a moment. “I guess the fact that they had kids. Why the hell would you leave your kids without a parent?”
Hailey couldn’t answer that one. The simple truth was emotion often got the best of people.
Sydney shook her head.
Hailey couldn’t find anything to say, at least nothing reassuring. “If anything else comes up, call me. I’ll be writing it up for a few days.”
Hailey left the building with none of the sense of triumph she often had when they’d closed a case. She only hoped she’d get it from Natasha’s.
*
Back at the Hall, Hailey rode to the top floor and wound around the busy corridors until she reached the stairwell. Then she walked down step by step, her black flats echoing on the cold concrete. In a decade of coming in and out of this building, the stairwells had always been the quietest spot. People were lazy, herself included. Somehow, though, she’d thought the walk might clear her head.
It didn’t work.
She arrived at the fifth floor and peered down the stairs that led back to her own floor. But she knew she had to do it now, get it over with. Bruce Daniels—the name brought on a wave filled with so many warring emotions, it was impossible to sort them all.
Today, frustration might have won out.
Walking toward Internal Affairs wasn’t something any cop liked to do, and Hailey was no exception. Even walking down the hall, people seemed to give the door a wide berth, like it shocked anyone who got too close.
With the list IA had put together, Bruce Daniels was her best bet to get this investigation moving. She knew there were absences on that list.
She thought about the promise she’d made to God, the one where she’d never see Bruce if Mackenzie was all right. Maybe now was the time to end things anyway. She hesitated at the department door.
Unlike most cops, she didn’t have anything specific against the Internal Affairs Department. She thought a good portion of the bad rap they took wasn’t fair. They did a job and Hailey had seen enough bad cop behavior—like Scott Scanlan’s—to know that there had to be a system in place to police the police.
She also knew there were some cops who lived to persecute others. Some cops pegged the people in IA as the kids who had been bullied and picked on in school. As children, they’d had thick glasses or red hair, were chubby boys or girls. They didn’t blend the way Hailey had, just barely staying on the fringe of normalcy. And so they’d decided to bully the ultimate bullies. Those were the ones they thought went to IA. She knew that was sometimes true too.
She set her shoulders back, entered the office. She told the secretary that she needed a few minutes with Bruce Daniels if he was available.
The secretary told her to go on in.
When she reached Bruce’s half-open door, she knocked gently.
He looked up, his eyes barely widening in surprise. A smile hovered beneath the firm lips. “Inspector Wyatt.”
She didn’t enter. “Hi. I’ve got a couple of questions on the list you made, if you have a few minutes.”
They both spoke in work tones, full volume as though announcing to the department that they had nothing to hide.
He nodded to the seat across from him and she considered whether or not she wanted to sit, then decided she did.
Bruce stood then, and closed the door before making his way back to his own chair. She didn’t watch him move. It would make staying away more difficult.
She studied pictures and diplomas she’d seen a half dozen times. When he was settled back behind his desk, he rested his hands on top of some papers and gave her a little nod like a high school principal. “How are you feeling?”
“Okay.”
“You talked to Vail about it?”
“Had to.”
“I agree.” He rubbed his face. “I was scared to death,” he whispered. “I don’t know what I would have done.”
She shook her head. “I’m fine.”
“I should’ve come to check on you sooner. I could’ve stopped him—”
She bit into her lip. “Yes, you should’ve. Christ, I was almost—” She shook her head. “It wasn’t your fault. I just can’t—” The words caught in her throat. “I can’t talk about it now.”
“What did you tell John?”
“I made the Scanlan thing seem like more of a wrestle. Mostly, though, it hasn’t come up.” John could be so self-absorbed. Did he notice the way she tensed up when he touched her shoulder? Did he see how much it hurt when the girls came to climb into her lap?
Bruce would have.
She knew with total certainty that she wouldn’t have been able to keep it from him.
“But you have bruises on your ribs, don’t you?”
She tried to shrug it off. “It was a busy weekend with Mackenzie’s attack
. I’ve been really tired.”
He nodded, understanding. “Will you have time this week?”
She lowered her gaze. “I can’t. Not until this is over.”
He didn’t respond.
“Someone saw us. Someone knows.”
“Okay.”
“I actually came about the case.”
He straightened. “Sure.”
“I need to go back, understand some things.”
He sat back, slightly rigid. “Okay.”
“You were the first one out at the murder scene that morning.”
He nodded.
“Why didn’t you stay? She’s a cop. Why wouldn’t IA be involved?”
He glanced at the door behind her, paused.
“You were with her,” she said quietly, as though by speaking the words in a low tone she could soften the blow they would have if they weren’t true.
But they were true.
She knew it as soon as they were out.
“It was a long time ago.”
She felt tired then. A long time ago.
“How long ago?” She drew out a notebook and flipped it open to have something to look at. Then she could avoid him, avoid the pit in her gut.
They’d been together eight months. She wanted to hear him say that it had been more than eight months ago.
Only she suspected it wasn’t.
“Early summer.”
Her heart banged against her ribs. “This summer?”
“June.”
She wrote down the word June and underlined it. They’d been together then. He’d cheated on her. Goddamn it. Her hands trembled. Anger rocked in her chest, fighting to break loose. She had almost died in his lobby.
“You bastard,” she whispered. She pushed each word from her lips as though firing a gun.
Bruce stood.
She pointed at his chair.
He sat, defeated. “It happened while you and John were up in Tahoe with the girls.”
She struggled not to scream, told herself she had no right to be angry. She could not have a lover and feel any sort of betrayal when he took one. And yet, she did.
“Hailey—”
She shook her head. She wasn’t going there. Not here, not now. Damn, she wished they were somewhere private right now so she could yell at him. She held her hands together, took a breath. She let the fury burn through her in hopes it would smother itself, but it only burned fiercer. She stood, turned and paced.
“Hailey.”
She shot her palm out, leaned across his desk. “Don’t you dare,” she seethed.
She forced herself to sit, focused on what she needed from him for the case. She focused on this one thing. She could do this. “I’m the investigator on a murder case,” she said, keeping her voice low and even. “I need to know how long it lasted.”
He came around the desk, sat in the chair beside her. “Can we talk about this somewhere else? Can we meet later?”
“I don’t think so.” She felt the words slip between her teeth, laced with anger. “I don’t think we’ll be meeting anymore.”
He took her hand. “Please. It doesn’t have to be my place. Just anywhere other than here.”
She was desperate to scream at him, to vent the anger. But couldn’t. Not now. Her thoughts veered back to Natasha. She pulled her hand away. God, Natasha. Buck was with Natasha too. Christ, was everyone? She stood up, took two steps toward the door. She wanted to get the hell out of there, told herself it was a good idea. She would end it. There was always a piece of her that wanted to stop, to come out of the shadows where she was living. Now she could. Then why the hell did she feel such a loss? Christ. “Please answer the question.”
He, too, stood and crossed back behind the desk. “It started in June, lasted until the weekend of July Fourth. Ended that night.”
“With fireworks, I hope.”
He didn’t respond. Tried to act casual, but he felt her anger. He wasn’t used to it. She didn’t explode like this. She was the controlled one. Damn him for doing this to her. “Why were you there? At the scene where she was found.”
He paused. “David Marshall knew about us. A few people did. It’s one of the reasons it ended. An IA officer and someone with her reputation—”
She couldn’t look at him.
“I felt guilty, Hailey. It actually felt like I was cheating on you,” he added, lowering his voice. “But then, I thought, that’s nuts. You were away—with your husband.”
She ignored the reference. It was different. He knew she had a husband. He knew the score with her.
He had no card to play there.
She focused back on the morning of Natasha’s murder. “So, Marshall sent you to the scene?”
“He called me first to find out when I’d stopped seeing her—that I had. Then he told me about Deputy Chief Scanlan. I’d heard the rumor before that, but we decided I should go down there to be sure someone else from the department hadn’t been there—that there wasn’t something obviously harmful to the department.”
The men were covering for each other. For the department.
The two of them—her captain and her lover—had kept it from her.
“And you didn’t tell me?” She lowered her voice again. “You screwed with my crime scene and you never told me?”
“I’m sorry.”
“I don’t forgive you.”
“David asked me to keep it quiet. I did as he asked.”
She turned to leave.
“There’s something else I’ve wanted to tell you. I don’t know if it’ll help.”
She didn’t turn back, waited. Fury coated her skin like hot chills after a sunburn.
“She called maybe a month ago. I didn’t call her back the first time. I didn’t want anything to do with her, and it didn’t sound like a business call.”
She waited.
“She called back a few days later. She was furious. She’d somehow heard about the list we had. She told me to send it to her so she could make sure we hadn’t missed anyone.” He shook his head. “She had a right to be pissed.”
“Hell yes, she did.”
“The list wasn’t my idea.”
She shook her head, turned her back. “I don’t care.”
“That last conversation, she made a comment at the end, something that I never quite figured out.”
Hailey waited.
“She said something about the list missing her most recent conqu-qu-quest.”
“What does that mean? That the guy has a stutter?”
“That’s how I took it.”
Hailey remembered Tim’s comment that he’d been struck by someone who had stuttered. “Deputy Chief Scanlan?”
He shook his head. “I don’t think so. I’ve never heard him stutter.”
“But you don’t know,” Hailey pressed.
He paused. “No, I don’t. Some people only stutter when they’re upset. I’ve never seen him really heated.”
She started to leave but paused. “Why didn’t you tell me about the comment before?” Bruce didn’t respond. Hailey waited, her pulse drumming. “What about you, Bruce? Do you have an alibi for the night she was killed?”
There was a pause. “I do.”
Suddenly, she didn’t feel prepared for his answer. “You were home alone?”
“Not quite.”
“You were with someone else?”
He nodded.
“Shit,” she said, the word slipping out.
“Hailey, you know—”
“Don’t,” she said, cutting him off. It felt almost comical now.
John was pushing aside her dreams for his own. Bruce had been with someone else.
They had both betrayed her.
“Don’t say anything. Please.” She shook her head, lowered her voice. “Don’t fuck it up any worse than you already have.”
“Christ, this is a mess,” he said. “I want to talk about this somewhere else. I’m done talking here. As for your ca
se, Marshall knows about it. He’s had my alibi confirmed. I am not a suspect in this case, but I’m also not participating in the investigation of her homicide, because of the fact that we were—had been—intimate.”
She felt the word “intimate” hit her like a blow. Exhaled. “I’m the lead investigator. I need to know who slept with her, goddamn it.”
Bruce shook his head. “Everyone slept with her, Hailey.”
“So, that’s supposed to make it better?”
He shook his head. “I’m not talking about us right now. You see someone else. I see other people too. Anytime you want it to change, I’m ready.”
That was it. The whip had cracked and it struck hard. She rubbed the spot above her left breastbone. She thought of her asthma inhaler, in the glovebox of her car. Sucked in a breath, let it out through closed teeth. She couldn’t make demands when she wasn’t prepared to fulfill her end of it.
And yet, she would. She knew she would. She didn’t need to be with him. She could walk away. It was either only her, or she was done. Those were her rules. That was the upside of the affair. It was all about her.
Everything else was laced with complications—kids, family.
But not this.
She didn’t look back at him, couldn’t. “God, this place is like musical fucking beds,” she whispered as she left, closing the door behind her.
She walked back through the department, head down. All she could think was what right did she have to stake a claim to him when she would let him stake no claim to her?
None.
And yet, she knew she would do just that. She would have it no other way.
Chapter 32
Jamie arrived at the station at 8:50 a.m. to see the front of the Hall blocked by news vans. She left her car down the block, left her police parking pass on the dash, and hurried to the stairs. The newscasters were each recording their bits off to the side of the main entrance, and Jamie recognized the start of a press conference. What the hell was it about?
Her stomach knotted, she started up the stairs when the chief’s press secretary walked out the glass doors. Behind him was the chief, David Marshall, and Hailey Wyatt. Chip Washington followed behind them. Hailey caught Jamie’s eye and shook her head. Bad news.
Jamie stood back and waited.
As soon as the chief was in view of the camera, the reporters began shouting questions.
The Rookie Club Thriller series Box Set Page 22