Dropping the T-shirt, she turned and walked up the stairs to the door without a word.
“Emily,” Paul called, but she didn’t answer. Let him come after her, the bastard. Or better yet, let him be a coward and leave her stuff at the door.
Her key shook in her fist as she shoved it in the door and turned it. Without a backwards glance, she grabbed her bag off the step, stormed past Kyle, and towards her apartment.
“You okay?” he called after her, but she didn’t risk answering. She was not okay. She was not at all okay.
The front door banged shut. Paul had a key. It was probably somewhere in that box with the rest of the stuff he was giving back, now that he was dumping her.
She let herself into her apartment and slammed the door behind her, securing the chain before crossing to the smaller of the two bedrooms.
She locked the bedroom door, too, and dropped face-first onto the bed. She screamed into her pillow, tried to get it all out—the anger, the hurt, the fear. Turning on her side, she pulled the pillow into her arms and cried into it, wishing she’d never come back from Connecticut, that she’d never come out to San Francisco at all, and certainly that she’d never met that asshole, Paul.
When the doorbell rang, she sat up and wiped her face. No way would she let that jerk see her cry.
When she got to the door, she heard talking.
“I don’t think she wants you around, man.”
She peered through the peephole and saw Paul turn to stare at Kyle.
“Who the hell are you?” Paul asked.
“Kyle,” he said as though it answered everything.
Emily actually smiled.
Paul was furious. “You don’t know shit, buddy. Why don’t you get lost?” He knocked on the door again, and Emily jumped away from the door.
“I think you should leave her alone,” Kyle repeated. “She didn’t seem that thrilled to see you.”
Paul spun around, walked toward Kyle. Kyle didn’t back off.
“I told you to get lost,” Paul said.
Kyle shook his head. “I don’t think so.”
Paul charged Kyle, but Kyle was ready. He stepped aside and grabbed hold of Paul’s shirt, shoving him across the foyer.
Emily yanked the door open, heart pounding.
Both men turned to her.
“This asshole—” Paul started, pressing his palms against his shirt as though to iron it with the heat of them.
“Just leave, Paul.”
Paul’s mouth dropped open. “What?”
“You heard her, Paul.”
“You bitch. You were cheating on me? With a handyman?”
Her stomach clenched. She opened her mouth to stop him from going, but instead she crossed her arms and shrugged.
Furious, he turned to the door. Then he spun back, finger raised. “You owe me a cell phone, Emily. That was a six-hundred-dollar phone.”
She gave another light shrug, like it was all no big deal. “Bill me.”
With that, he was gone.
The momentary rush of relief emptied like water from a cracked vase. She’d let him go, she thought to herself. He was going anyway, another part of her replied.
Kyle stood on the other side of the foyer.
He motioned to the door. “I thought maybe he was the one who—”
“He’s my boyfriend… Was.”
Kyle studied the floor. “Jesus, I’m sorry.”
She shook her head. “Don’t be. It was over anyway.” She hesitated, not sure what to say. “Thanks again,” she added as she turned back to the apartment.
“Uh, Emily?”
She turned.
“I know it might be too soon…,” Kyle said, eyeing the floor. “But would you like to get a coffee sometime?”
She felt surprised and also relieved. But not ready. “It’s—” She searched for the words. Too soon. It was too soon.
“It’s too soon,” he said quickly, embarrassed.
“Yeah.”
“Shit, I’m such an ass,” he said. “I’m sorry.”
“No, I mean yes. A coffee would be good. But slow, you know?”
He grinned. “A slow coffee?”
She felt a smile tug on her lips. “Yeah.”
He nodded and she saw a glint in his blue eyes she hadn’t noticed before. “A slow coffee, it is.”
She returned to her apartment, closed the door. For the first time since the attack, she felt like things might be okay.
Chapter 34
Jamie stood over the bed of the latest victim and watched her chest rise and fall in a drugged sleep. Around them, hospital machines whooshed and beeped. One dripped fluids, another measured her heart rate, and a third controlled her breathing. Her right arm was covered in a bent cast, her left was heavily bandaged. Bruises covered her skin like flowered wallpaper. Her face was dark purple, her eyes barely lines in the swollen mass. Goddamn.
Jamie sank into the chair, dropped her head to her hands.
Hailey had come and gone. They’d met with the victim’s husband. He’d shown them a picture of his wife from his wallet.
Jamie had heard the quick intake of breath from Hailey’s lips. The woman had brown wavy hair, cut in a bob, brown eyes. She was attractive, athletic looking. There was no doubt that she and Hailey had similar features.
The department had bulletins out all over the city about Marchek. Every cop was on the lookout for him. They had to find him soon. The escalating violence had left a woman close to death.
The next one would die. Jamie felt it in her bones.
Where the hell are you, Marchek?
She was half tempted to drive the streets herself. Another set of eyes.
No good reason to go home, not to that empty house.
Tony had taken Zephenaya to Sacramento to meet his temporary foster parents. They’d even taken Barney along for the ride.
Zephenaya would soon be gone.
Tony would be gone.
She had lived alone since the separation from Tim, but alone suddenly seemed so much less appealing.
What choice did she have? Adopting a child wasn’t like when she’d taken in Barney.
She was usually so good at keeping people at a distance. She’d made it something of an expertise. But not Z.
He had already found his way into her heart. Maybe it was because Shawna was one of Marchek’s victims. But really it felt like more.
With Tony and Z, it felt like a home again.
Z needed someone strong, someone who would protect him.
And maybe Tony needed someone to care for.
Of course, that was ridiculous. They couldn’t possibly be a family.
She’d have Barney, she thought.
The hospital door opened behind her. She stood, expecting the woman’s husband and saw Bruce Daniels.
He walked to the bed. Shook his head. “Christ,” he muttered.
Jamie turned without a word and crossed to the door.
“Vail.”
She looked back, hand on the knob.
“If you need any support on this—any at all—you call me. We’ve got to get this guy.”
She watched the pain in his face. He, too, saw Hailey Wyatt in the woman lying in the hospital bed.
She stood outside in the cold and smoked a cigarette, trying to calm herself before she got in her car to drive home. Her cell rang and she answered it with a curt voice, tired of all the shit. “Vail.”
“It’s Roger. I’m down at the lab. I’ve got a match on the dirt from Marchek’s boot.”
“You matched it to the soil from my yard?”
“No.”
“What then?”
“There are some similar elements, but the soil from your yard was much richer in sulfites, commonly found in potting soil. The dirt from Marchek’s boot was nearly five percent clay.”
“Clay?”
“It’s consistent with landfill,” Roger explained. “It contains more unnatural elements than other so
ils. I confirmed it with the pH, which is 5.2—too low for potting soil.”
“Landfill,” she repeated.
“Right. And where do you find landfill in San Francisco?”
“Anywhere there’s dirt, I’d guess. But there isn’t much of that in the city. It’s mostly cement.” She paused. “And I’d guess the park’s dirt would be more consistent with potting soil.”
“Right. Anywhere else you’d find landfill?”
Jamie sighed. “Roger, if you know the answer, why don’t you tell me?”
Roger laughed. “Because it’s more fun for you to get it on your own. Plus, it confirms my reasoning.”
“So, you’ve ruled out undeveloped land.”
“Right. There’s nothing anywhere near Marchek’s apartment that’s not developed.”
“How about a renovation?” Jamie thought out loud. “If someone was taking a house down in the area, they’d hit landfill.” Jamie gasped. “The crawl space.”
Roger chuckled. “There you go. That was my guess.”
Jamie turned and paced. “Shit. That’s genius. He’s hiding stuff under his building.” She started to hang up. “You’re the best, Roger. I’ve got to get a car out to his place.”
“Call me if you find it and I’ll send out a team,” Roger said.
“Will do.”
“Oh, one more thing, Jamie.”
“Yeah?”
“We matched the polymers on Tim’s head wound.”
“What was it?”
“It’s the plastic used in the bases of trophies. The company is out of Ohio—Dayton Trophy Company.”
“Do you know if that’s where the trophies came from the night of the awards dinner?”
“It is. I left a message for Hailey Wyatt, but I thought you’d want to know too.”
“Yeah. This is good, Roger. Thanks.”
“No problem.”
Jamie hung up and dialed Hailey’s line. She answered on the second ring. Jamie quickly told her about the soil sample from Marchek’s boots.
“Meet at his place?” Hailey said.
“I’ll be there in twenty. And you heard about the trophy?”
“Yeah. We’re getting together a list of who won an award that night. I’ll send it over as soon as I see it.”
Jamie headed for her car. Her cheeks flushed, adrenaline rushed around her brain. For the first time in longer than she wanted to consider, Jamie felt close.
Marchek had screwed up and they were going to nail him.
Please, God. Let them nail him.
She couldn’t bear the thought of him on the street one more day.
*
Jamie arrived at Marchek’s and parked behind the patrol car they’d sent to handle surveillance. When she got out of the car and flashed her badge, the officers walked toward her.
“No sign of your guy. We’ve been waiting for him.”
“He’s not working today?”
“No. According to the store, he’s off today and tomorrow.”
A sick sense of dread rose in her gut. “Keep an eye out. I’m going inside.”
The officers returned to their vehicle.
Jamie made her way into Marchek’s apartment and began to look for access to the crawl space. She checked the closets and searched for any hidden doors, but there didn’t appear to be any access from inside. As she came out his front door, she ran into Hailey.
“Find it?” Hailey asked.
“Not yet. There’s no crawl space access from his place.”
“First place we lived in San Francisco, the crawl space was just off the garbage room,” Hailey suggested.
“Let’s try that.”
Down the hall from Marchek’s front door, they found the disposal room. It was a tiny space, filled by two huge flip-top garbage bins. A metal vent hovered above one where people on the upper floors could dump their trash. It would slide down the vent and into one of the cans.
“How about that?” Hailey said.
Behind one of the cans was an opening, maybe two feet wide by sixteen inches high. Hailey pulled the trash can aside and Jamie shone her flashlight into the dark hole.
“It’s the crawl space, all right.”
Jamie got down on her knees and climbed through the hole. On the other side, the space was large enough to stand. “You coming?”
She heard Hailey groan, but soon Hailey joined her. Each using her flashlight, they scanned the space for anything Marchek had hidden. They split up. Jamie went left around a thick cement pillar she guessed was footing for the stairwell. She could see the other light flickering behind her.
“Scream if you see anything,” she called out.
The space was cool and moist and the thought that Marchek might be there gave her the chills.
She shook them off, returned to the hunt.
A mound of dirt blocked her view of the far corner. She climbed to the top of the mound. Natural light shone on the other side.
There was a window there. To the outside. She tried to see over the mound, but couldn’t.
She would have to crawl over the dirt to continue.
Hailey called out.
She scrambled across the dirt, half crawling, half running to where Hailey stood over an old, metal meat locker. Padlocked closed, the locker had been mostly buried. Only four inches stood above the surface. Beside it, an old canvas camp chair sat in the dirt.
“The Master Lock key we found in Marchek’s apartment. It must be to this,” Hailey said.
“I’m not waiting for a key.” Using the backside of her MagLite, Jamie smashed at the lock. It didn’t break. She drew her gun and aimed it at the lock. “Stand back.”
Hailey moved behind her. Without any other eye protection, Jamie slipped on her sunglasses and fired at the lock.
The steel dropped open.
She found a pen in her jacket pocket and used it to remove the lock and lift the top of the locker.
The inside was neatly organized. A pile of straps lay carefully coiled beside a box of powder-free latex gloves. There were towels, a pair of heavy work pants, tennis shoes, and a dark sweatshirt. Jamie lifted what looked like a pillowcase and found a hood. Jagged eyeholes stared back at her and she imagined Emily Osbourne’s fear.
“Oh, shit,” Hailey whispered.
Jamie turned.
There, taped to the open lid, was a series of photographs and personal items.
Jamie recognized a candid shot of Shawna Delman, coming out of the police station. Beside it was one of another victim in her police car.
But the one she knew Hailey was fixed on was a photograph of Mackenzie sitting on the steps of her apartment, a drink in her hand.
Beside it was a card that read “Cafe Baby Cakes Frequency Card.” On the card were four small daisy-shaped punches. Next to each photo was a similar memento.
A gym card for Emily Osbourne, an insurance card issued to Shawna Delman.
Inside Marchek’s apartment, Jamie had thought it was like he had a whole other residence.
The crawl space—this meat locker—this was Marchek’s other home, the place where he stored his real treasures.
How many hours had he sat in that camp chair and looked over his treasures?
Jamie placed her hand on her colleague’s arm. Her friend. It was the closest Jamie had felt to another woman in a long time.
She said nothing. There was nothing to say that would erase the fear that Marchek had instilled in them.
Taking him off the streets. That was the only thing that would diminish the fear.
Now, they just had to find him.
Chapter 35
Jamie and Hailey waited until backup arrived and Roger’s team came to take the locker back to the lab.
Jamie told Roger about the window on the far side of the crawl space. “Let’s dust it too. It’s probably how he evaded surveillance.”
Only when the evidence was safely in the hands of the police did the two women head back to the statio
n. They stood together in the lobby for several minutes.
“We’ve got to figure out where he is,” Jamie said.
The silence that followed felt like a prayer.
“We will,” Hailey assured her, resting her hand on Jamie’s arm.
Jamie returned to her office. There was plenty of work to be done on her other cases, but it was hard to focus on anything besides Marchek.
She forced herself to make a few calls, to check in on her victims. She called Tony’s cell phone, left a voicemail to check on him and Z. She thought about the attack on Barney.
Zephenaya would be able to ID Scanlan as the man who had knifed Barney, but she might be able to get confirmation without having to drag Z through more crap.
Jamie called down to records.
“Records. This is Shirley,” came the answer.
“It’s Vail.”
“Hey, Ms. Vail. How’s it going?”
“I’ve got a question about Scott Scanlan.”
Shirley grumbled. “I got ten minutes before dinner. Don’t you dare ruin my appetite, Ms. Vail.” Shirley always called her Ms. Vail. The ones Shirley liked were Ms. or Mr. The ones she didn’t were addressed by their last names.
Shirley wasn’t discreet about her preferences.
“Don’t worry. I’m looking to nail him.”
“Then I’m your woman.”
“What can you tell me about his partner?” Jamie asked.
“Hell. I thought you were going to make it tough. Hang on.”
Jamie heard the phone drop to the desk, then the background noises of Shirley working. Shirley had never mastered the hold button. She came back a minute and a half later. “Name’s Dave Priestley. He came out of the academy in June.”
Someone spoke behind her and Shirley paused. When she returned, she said, “Teresa says he’s the youngest of three brothers. They’re all in blue.”
Three cops. That was a good thing. A family in blue meant loyalty to upholding an officer’s sworn duties and to the department.
It meant Priestley was more likely to rat on a crooked partner than risk his own career. “You have a phone number for him?”
“Sure do.” Shirley rattled it off and Jamie wrote. She thanked Shirley for the help and told her to grab dinner a few minutes early.
The Rookie Club Thriller series Box Set Page 24