Driven

by Rebecca Zanetti

Buckle leaned forward, mimicking his movement. “I think you’re smart enough to mess with us in that kind of way. Wipe some of the gun and not the rest. Right?”

  Sure, he was smart enough. “I didn’t shoot Scott,” he said. Again.

  “Is this the guy who did?” Tate flipped over a picture, showing a blond man with green eyes. He wore a bloodstained sweatshirt and was pale in death.

  Angus pulled the picture closer. “Yeah. That’s him.” His shoulders stiffened. “I shot him a few times with his gun. Where did you find him?”

  “Ballistics confirms that the same bullets killed him as the ones that were taken out of your lawyer,” Detective Buckle said. “Why did you shoot this guy?”

  Angus stilled. “I told you. He shot Scott and tried to shoot me. Who is he?”

  “You tell us,” Tate said, working well with his partner. “Who is he?”

  Angus barely kept from sighing. Was he this much of a pain in the ass when he interrogated a suspect? “I hereby identify this man as the guy who shot Scott and tried to shoot me. I don’t know his name. We didn’t exactly talk.” He angled his head to see the now-closed file folder. “Was the blonde with him? Did you find her?”

  “Ah. The blond girl who knocked you out?” Detective Buckle asked, just enough derision in her tone to be annoying.

  “Yes. The one with a big-assed shovel,” Angus agreed. He studied the two detectives. They were good, and he was running out of time. “How about this: Let’s play a game where you tell me something and then I give you information in return? Okay? Either you two start ponying up or I’m leaving. Walking right out of here.” Unless they arrested him, which was definitely an option.

  “What do you want to know?” Detective Buckle asked, her voice pure reasonableness now.

  Angus took a deep breath. “Who’s the dead guy?”

  “His name is Willie Treeland, and he has a record that spans the gamut from assault to grand theft. How’d you get hooked up with him?” Tate asked.

  “Why would he try to kill me?” Angus asked. Or, more importantly, “Who would hire him to shoot Scott and then me?”

  “You tell us,” Buckle said. Again.

  Angus stared down at the dead young man. “I don’t know. My team was trying to run a background search on all our old cases, but we were disbanded, as you know. My guess is that it has something to do with one of them.” He looked up. “Where did you find this guy, and where is the blonde?” The woman had looked young—maybe twenty years old.

  “No blonde,” Dr. Buckle said.

  Angus sat back and rolled his aching shoulders. “Well, I gave you her description. She was with this guy and she swung a shovel. My guess is that she was just along for the ride.”

  “Why?” Tate asked.

  “Because she didn’t kill me after she knocked me out,” Angus said quietly. “I think she tried to save her boyfriend, and wherever you found him, she’ll be nearby.” It was fairly simple and they knew it. “So. You have me for another hour and then I need to pick up a friend at work.”

  “Nari Zhang?” Tate asked.

  Angus didn’t flinch. “My friends are none of your business. Now. Where did you find Willie Treeland?”

  Tate studied him, his dark eyes inscrutable. “He was found dead in his truck a block from a hospital parking lot. North Ridge Hospital, which is the closest to where the shooting occurred.”

  Angus leaned forward. “I assume you pulled the CCTV?”

  “Yeah. A block away; there wasn’t any sign of the truck,” Detective Buckle said, her unpainted nails tapping on the table. “So, once again, no video of what happened that day. I find that to be an interesting coincidence, don’t you, Tate?”

  “I surely do,” Tate said. “It’s almost as if a trained agent made certain this happened. A frightened young blonde wouldn’t have thought of it, agreed?”

  Buckle nodded. “Totally agree.”

  The two were good—really good. They worked well together. “You know, if I ever get a team back together, I’d be interested in the two of you,” Angus said slowly. Wait a minute. A team back together? Where the hell had that thought come from?

  Buckle’s laugh wasn’t filled with mirth. “Darlin’? The only team you’re going to put together is one in prison. But thanks for the offer.”

  Chapter Thirty-Two

  Nari signed yet another piece of paper guaranteeing her silence on anything and anybody having to do with the HDD. All she wanted was insurance coverage, darn it. The HR office was surprisingly cheerful, with several bright posters framed on each wall. She sighed and read over another document.

  “Nari?” Opal Clemonte said, poking her head in the door.

  Nari stood. “Administrator. Hello.”

  “Hi.” Opal smiled. “How about I conduct your exit interview over brunch? I’m starving.”

  Nari faltered. No doubt the woman wanted to talk about Quan, but she couldn’t exactly refuse the head of the HDD. “I’d enjoy that.”

  Opal nodded at the HR assistant sitting across the table from Nari. “I assume she’s finished?”

  “Yes, ma’am,” the young woman said instantly, gathering the papers together.

  Well, Nari was finished now, apparently. She leaned toward the nice brunette. “Do you need me to come back later to sign anything?”

  “No.” The woman shook her head. “We’re fine. Honest.”

  Nari smiled and walked toward the doorway. Was everyone afraid of the administrator? Sure, she had an imposing job, but she seemed nice enough. “Are we eating in your office?”

  “No. Let’s get away from the office and go to the club. I’ll bring a detail because there’s a question regarding your safety right now.” Opal led the way, dressed today in cream-colored, linen pants and a matching jacket with a silky, lavender-colored shirt. Her boots were a cream leather with two-inch heels.

  Nari stared at the boots. They were spectacular. Was there a polite way to ask where she’d bought them? She hustled to keep up and took her phone out of her purse to text Angus about her brunch plans. Though she’d promised not to leave the office, being with the HDD administrator and a protection detail should be enough to keep her safe. They exited the building, where a car was already by the curb with one of the security agents waiting to open the door.

  “Thank you, George,” Opal said, settling into the back seat next to Nari. Once the door had closed, she turned to face her. “You could have my job someday, you know. You have the background and the strength for it.”

  The woman was still trying to mentor her? Nari grew warm. “I quit yesterday, remember?”

  Opal sighed. “You quit because your father put you in an untenable position, and that hurt your feelings.” She patted Nari’s hand, a diamond-and-sapphire ring shining brightly on her finger. “I don’t blame you, but you shouldn’t destroy your entire career because of hurt feelings.” She clasped her hands in her lap.

  Nari swallowed. The woman definitely had a point. “I appreciate your taking an interest.”

  Opal chuckled. “I like you. I also like your father, although he acted like a moron in this case. I don’t think he wanted to hurt you, but he’s been confused why you chose the HDD. The guilt he feels about your childhood has blinded him.” She shook her head. “Men, even the smart ones, can be such dumbasses sometimes.”

  Hearing the elegant woman use the word “dumbass” made Nari laugh out loud. Wasn’t that almost the same thing her mother had said the other day? She covered her mouth and calmed herself. “I totally agree.”

  “I know.” Opal peered out the window at the traffic. “But we need to set the boundaries of how much harm they can do. I don’t want to overstep, but are you still seeing Angus Force?”

  Nari paused. Was HDD trying to get to her through Opal? Wait a minute. Opal was HDD. “I believe he’s innocent.”

  “That’s irrelevant,” Opal said quietly. “That doesn’t mean he won’t demolish both your career and your heart.” The car roll
ed to a stop in front of a building composed of white brick and long columns. She waited until the door opened before stepping out.

  Nari followed. Her career and her heart? Yeah. Angus could probably affect both, but she trusted him. Didn’t she? Frowning, she walked up the stairs and into a restaurant with old-world charm. Dark wood, fine bottles of wine in a cabinet, and burgundy-colored carpets.

  Opal smiled at the host. “I have a reservation for Clemonte.”

  “Of course.” The young man lifted two thick menus. “Follow me, please.”

  The conversations in the room were muted. Nari recognized three US senators, several lobbyists, and the White House chief of staff. The maître d’ passed them all for a spacious table in a private room toward the back.

  “This is lovely,” Opal said, sliding along the plush bench.

  Nari sat across from her and accepted a menu, waiting until the host had left before speaking. The woman had clout to score a private dining room for two people. “Are you questioning me about Angus for the HDD?”

  Opal’s laugh was contagious. “No. If I wanted you questioned, I’d haul you into an interrogation room, not take you to a delicious brunch.”

  Well, that was fair. Nari read the menu. The second Opal put down her menu, a waitress appeared. They both ordered and then waited for mimosas to be delivered.

  “Cheers,” Opal said, holding up her glass.

  Nari clinked and then took a sip. Excellent. “I doubt you usually conduct exit interviews.”

  “No,” Opal agreed, her beautiful eyes shining. “Only when somebody’s father goofs up their team placement out of confusion because men are dumb sometimes. You know, I do try to be involved during those situations.”

  Nari laughed. The woman did have a good sense of humor. “So what’s happened?”

  “Well, you quit. I yelled at your father for a good amount of time and then we made up.”

  “I’ve never seen anybody yell at my father. How did that go?” Nari asked, taking another sip.

  “It was probably easier to take since we’re dating each other,” Opal said.

  Nari set down her glass. “I wondered if we were going to discuss that matter.”

  “There’s nothing for us to discuss.” Opal partially turned to look beyond Nari. She frowned. “What in the world?”

  The door opened and a man moved inside, even his face covered in a black mask. He moved gracefully and held a weapon.

  Nari reacted instantly. She charged.

  * * *

  Angus shifted on the seat. Nari should be about finished with brunch and he was done with this interview. “Either arrest me or I’m out of here.” Hopefully they wouldn’t call his bluff.

  A knock sounded on the door, and Tate stood to open it, leaning down so a uniformed cop could say something in his ear. His broad back visibly tightened and he turned, his eyes burning. “We apparently have another victim. She’s already been identified as Dr. Emily Shelman. Does that name ring a bell?”

  Angus straightened. “Yes, but I think you already know that. She’s the doctor who called time of death on Henry Wayne Lassiter six years ago. Where did you find her?”

  A muscle ticked down the long cord of Tate’s neck. “She was found in your HDD office by a janitor sent in to clean.”

  The news was like a punch to the gut. Angus swallowed. “Was there a note?”

  Tate looked at Buckle. “I want to view the scene.”

  Buckle nodded toward Angus. “What do you want to do with him?”

  Angus stood. “Either take me to the scene or I’m going there on my own. Come on, Tate. You know I didn’t do this, and I can help analyze the scene and the note. I can compare it to all the others for you.”

  Tate’s expression didn’t so much as flicker. “All right.”

  Buckle straightened. “Hey. We don’t want him with us.”

  Tate shrugged. “He’s going either way, and I’d rather keep an eye on him. We could place him under arrest, but he’d be out in hours, and then we’d have to hand the case over to the prosecuting attorney’s office—if the HDD didn’t try to steal the entire case before we could. I’m not done yet.”

  Angus walked toward the door. “Stop talking about me like I’m not here.” How annoying. He sent a quick text to Nari, letting her know he might be late and to please hang out at HDD headquarters after brunch with the administrator. Maybe she could spend some time with Brigid. He sent a second text making the suggestion while following Tate out to his unmarked car. It certainly wasn’t the Bentley Angus had spent time in the day before.

  The drive was made in silence and Angus studied the two detectives in the front seat. They worked well together, but there were no signs of affection or even friendship. It was a new partnership. “How long have you two worked together?” he asked, testing his theory.

  “Three weeks,” Buckle said, peering out the passenger side window. “Why?”

  “Just curious.” She’d answered one question, so he went for broke. “What’s your first name, anyway?”

  Tate cut him a look in the rearview mirror.

  Angus shrugged and grinned. “We’ve spent a lot of time together and I’ve been wondering.”

  Buckle partially turned around to look at him. “What did you guess?”

  “Something strong and old-fashioned. Margaret or maybe Hayden.” He tilted his head. “Or Joan. Yeah. Joan would be a good name for you.” His guessing game was pissing Tate off. Interesting.

  “Hmmm,” Buckle said, turning back around.

  Of course, Buckle was a good name, too. Angus looked out the window as they drove toward the mainly deserted parking area of his former office building. “Did the janitor say how the killer got inside?”

  “No,” Buckle said. “However, the uniform who called it in didn’t see any sign of forced entry.”

  That didn’t mean anything. That crappy old office would be easy to breach; it wasn’t as if HDD had sprung for security cameras. Not even in the elevator. Angus tried to settle his bulk in the back seat, but his knees were still shoved up. Not that he complained. Buckle would probably push her seat back even farther.

  They drove across the parking lot, and he surveyed the dismal park to the left of the seventies-style building. For a short time the place had meant something to him. They’d put away some dangerous criminals from this building, and it was a slap in the balls for Lassiter to drop a body there.

  Crime scene tape cordoned off the building and several patrol cars were parked with their lights swirling. Techs searched the parking lot on the other side, and one guy was visible in the park.

  “You stay with us,” Tate said.

  “Right.” Angus exited the vehicle and looked around. The entire area felt deserted. He turned and ducked under the crime scene tape before walking into the building he’d entered thousands of times. “The elevator is a little sketchy,” he warned them.

  Buckle rolled her eyes, but when the cab jerked and hitched on descent, she planted a hand against the wall. Once they finally hit the bottom and bounced, she was the first out of the elevator. Her sigh of relief was palpable.

  Angus looked at the techs fingerprinting the entire room. “He wouldn’t have left any evidence. You know that, Tate.” Angus partially turned to face somebody he’d thought was a friend. “You also know that the feds are going to take this case if you don’t solve it, and quick. I can help you.”

  Buckle brushed by him, careful where she stepped. “Don’t a lot of killers try to insert themselves into investigations of their crimes?”

  “Yes,” Angus answered before Tate could.

  “This way,” a uniformed officer said, gesturing them toward what used to be the computer room.

  Angus hid his relief that the victim hadn’t been left in his office, where he’d spent many a night. He strode across the bullpen and looked into the computer room, where the doctor had been dumped on the eastern counter, her feet bound and her heart missing. Her eyes were c
losed and her blond hair hung off the side of the counter, almost to the floor.

  “Jesus,” Tate said, taking in the scene.

  A tech handed over a note already secured in a plastic bag.

  Tate turned and held it up so they both could read it.

  Dearest Angus,

  This one was so much more satisfying, and I can only surmise it’s because we’re both engaged again. How I have missed you. From what I’ve been able to glean, you’ve missed me as well. To think that you were wallowing away with alcohol in the middle of Kentucky without me. I can’t tell you what that means to me. Who would’ve thought that we’d both survive the night we shot to kill? It’s kismet, my very good friend. Until next time.

  Yours,

  Henry

  PS The night grows tired, the energy unleashed upon this moment in time that cannot last. A vision of the abyss, drawing me in, only her face halting the time that must occur in the game of the gods.

  Tate crossed his arms. “How does this killer know you were drinking yourself to death in Kentucky?”

  “That’s a damn good question,” Angus said. He had to go with trust here. “I think somebody in either the FBI or the HDD has helped Lassiter somehow.”

  Tate rolled his eyes. “Sorry, buddy. I don’t see that.”

  Buckle excused herself to take a phone call and immediately returned. “Angus Force? You’re under arrest for the murder of Dr. Emily Shelman. Turn around and place your hands at your back.”

  Tate frowned. “What are you doing?”

  “We have the results from the security tapes that were taken from the doctor’s apartment building.” Buckle smiled. “Guess who broke down her door yesterday?”

  Angus sighed. Well, shit.

  Chapter Thirty-Three

  A bullet winged by Nari’s head and she ducked, plowing into the man dressed all in black. “Run, Opal!” She knocked the man into the door, and he aimed an elbow down on her shoulder, grabbing on and dragging her toward the door.