Tuesday, February 23, 4:45 p.m.
Noah stopped in front of the fifth and last waffle house on Jack’s list. It was a diner off the interstate, next to a gas station. He hoped this had been Christy’s last meal.
They’d missed Donner and Lyons. Neither had been at their desks, nor at home. They’d go back later, now turning their attention to Christy’s last movements. Four waffle houses had been busts and his partner had been silently surly.
Noah’s patience was fraying around the edges. “Let’s just get this done.”
But Jack didn’t move. He sat, staring at the waffle house. “I’m sorry, Web.”
The quiet words were the first his partner had uttered in hours. “About?”
“I was out of line. I knew Eve wasn’t trying to save her own skin.”
“That apology should go to Eve. I don’t understand why you said it in the first place.”
“It’s not that complicated. I told you I’d been trying to get her attention for months.”
“Let me get this straight. You are jealous of me? You told me to ask her out.”
“Thinking she’d say no. I never expected her to fall all over you in less than a day.”
“That was just an act.” No, it wasn’t. Not for me. And when Eve was able, she’d say it hadn’t been for her either.
Jack opened his car door. “Not from where I was sitting. Let’s go.”
Noah followed him into the waffle house, forcing his mind to think about killing, not kissing. Jack had Christy’s driver’s license photo in his hand, showed it to the hostess.
“We’re with the police, ma’am,” Jack said. “Have you seen this woman?”
“No, but I’ve seen you.” She pointed to the magazine rack. “You’re Phelps.”
Jack winced. “Can we talk to the manager or some of the other servers?”
“Have a seat, Detectives. Can I get you some coffee?”
“No, ma’am,” Noah said. “We’ll wait.”
The manager hurried out. “I’m Richard Smith. Please come back to my office.”
“We’re looking for anyone who saw this woman early Monday,” Jack said.
“This shift wouldn’t have been here during the night. You should come back tonight.”
It was what they’d heard four times before. “Thank you, we’ll do that,” Noah said.
“Or,” Smith continued thoughtfully, “we have security video of the cash register.”
They’d also heard that four times before, but three of the cameras were pointed toward the cashier, management more concerned about employee theft than robberies. The fourth video quality was so bad they couldn’t see anything.
“That would be a big help,” Jack said. “Thank you.”
Smith went to his computer and began typing. “Sunday between midnight and four?”
Noah and Jack exchanged impressed glances. “You have it digitized?” Noah asked.
“We just invested in a new system about a year ago. There was a robbery next door. A kid was shot pretty bad. They had an old system and you couldn’t see the shooter’s face. We’re open all night, too. All of our people were at risk. So me and the manager next door went in together, got a better system and made sure everybody knew it. So far so good. Nobody’s hit us again.”
After a few minutes of stopping and starting, Smith looked up. “This might be her.”
“It’s Christy,” Noah said, when he looked at the screen. “Time was 3:24.”
“Here’s the crew that was on that night, with their phone numbers, in case you can’t wait until tonight to interview them. You’ll want the original digital video file, I assume.”
“Thank you,” Noah said, with relief. “Not many shops put this much into security.”
Jack’s eyes lit. “You have cameras in the parking lot. Here and the gas station?”
“Yes, sir,” Smith said proudly. “We sure do. You want video of the same time?”
“Plus two hours on either end, please,” Jack said, then turned to Noah. “If somebody followed her home, we’ll be able to find them.”
Tuesday, February 23, 5:00 p.m.
“Tom.” Olivia stood with a big smile for the young man crossing the bullpen. He was the son of one of her sister Mia’s best friends, accompanied by a girl with a sober, terrified look, and Olivia was instantly curious. “You played a great game on Sunday.”
“Thanks. We need your help. This is Liza Barkley. Liza, Detective Sutherland.”
“Pull up some chairs,” Olivia said and listened as Liza told her story, haltingly. Heartbreakingly. “It must have been hard to learn your sister was in the life.”
“I am so scared,” Liza whispered. “What if one of her… customers hurt her?”
Olivia weighed her words. “Liza, you seem too smart for me to try to sugarcoat this. Prostitutes have a high mortality rate. If she’s been missing for two days and she hasn’t called when she always did before, it’s not good. After two days, her trail may be cold.”
Liza had gone paler, if possible, but her chin went up. “Do you have a sister?”
“Yes, and I wouldn’t take no for an answer either if my sister was in trouble. Let me check for you. I’ll find out if she was arrested in a group and who posted her bail, but I want something in return. Your promise you will not go hunting at night.” Liza nodded dutifully. “You’re going to do it anyway, aren’t you?” Olivia asked.
Liza nodded and Olivia sighed.
“Olivia?” Tom asked and she knew what was coming.
“No. I’m not going with you.”
“Why not?” Tom asked. “Come on,” he wheedled, then shrugged. “Mia would.”
Olivia shook her head. “That is a low blow.”
“But effective,” he said.
“If I can, I’ll go with you. Once. But I want your promise, Liza.”
Liza nodded. “I promise.”
Tuesday, February 23, 5:30 p.m.
Tom took Liza’s bag and hailed another cab. “I’m taking you home.”
“What if I don’t want you to know where I live?”
“Too late. Your address was on the police report. I won’t leave the cab. I promise.”
Liza believed him. She was too tired not to. “I keep saying thank you.”
“Then don’t, just get in.” He followed her into the cab, gave the driver her address.
“You’ve helped me, when you didn’t need to.”
“When I was little, my father knocked my mother around. People helped us when they didn’t need to. I learned a long time ago to pay it forward. So stop thanking me.”
“Okay.” She fixed her gaze out the window and made herself accept the truth. “I think Lindsay’s dead. But I can’t give up looking for her.”
“I understand. What time did you start hunting last night?”
“Eleven.”
“My uncle’s in town and I’m meeting him for dinner. I can’t cancel because he’ll get suspicious and I don’t think he’d like me hunting hookers with you tonight.” He said it under his breath so the driver wouldn’t hear. “It’ll be eleven or twelve before I’m back in the dorm. Do not leave without me. I will come and get you in my car. Promise me.”
“What about your cop friend? Will Olivia tell?”
“Tell my uncle? No. I think they’ve only met each other once at a wedding, so, no.” He put another twenty in her bookbag. “Get some food. Promise me.”
“Tom.” Overwhelmed, she had to say it once more. “Thank you.”
Tuesday, February 23, 5:50 p.m.
Jack dropped a photo on Abbott’s desk. “We think we found him.”
Abbott picked up the photo of a clean-cut forty-four-year-old man. “Who is he?”
“His name is Axel Girard,” Noah said. “He’s an optometrist in Edina. His car followed Christy Lewis’s out of the waffle house lot on Monday.”
“Does he have a record?” Abbott asked.
“No,” Noah said. “Only one speeding ticket years ago. He’s a churchgoing man and was volunteer of the year for doing free eye exams in inner-city neighborhoods.”
Abbott sighed. “And our killer glues their eyes open.”
“Exactly,” Jack said and put down a series of time-stamped photos. “Security video shows him waiting in his car for over an hour. When Christy came out, she went to the gas station next door. He moved his car so that he was closer to the shared exit. Christy filled up her tank. She leaves, and a minute later, so does Girard.”
“You can’t see his face in any of these pics,” Abbott said.
Jack showed him a close-up of Girard’s Minnesota plate. “But we got his plate.”
“Then pick him up. I’ll get Ramsey from the DA’s office to observe. Good work, both of you.” Abbott sat back in his chair and studied Noah’s concerned face. “Isn’t it?”
Jack scowled. “Web thinks it was too easy.”
Noah shrugged. “For such a supposedly smart man, that was a really dumb move.”
“Pick him up,” Abbott said again. “Then we’ll see how smart he is. Noah, wait. We requested the files from Eve’s study a few hours ago. Tell her I’m sorry.”
Noah nodded. Her life was now officially changed once more. “Okay.”
Tuesday, February 23, 6:20 p.m.
“What’s the verdict?” Eve asked when David came in, blowing on his cold fingers.
“You’ve got holes in your roof,” he said dryly. “I patched the one over your bed and I’ll do the other tomorrow.” He perched on the arm of her stuffed chair. “Who is that?”
“Gary,” Eve said with a nod toward the avatar on her screen. Gary sat on a bar stool at Ninth Circle looking very out of place and very geeky.
“He’s not your usual style.”
He was totally vanilla, exactly as Eve had wanted. “He’s from the template.”
“Why?” David drew the syllable out, suspiciously.
“Because I saw that handsome avatar that was talking to Christy in Ninth Circle the night she was killed. He was back in Ninth Circle dancing with an avatar I don’t know.”
“And then you called Detective Webster, just like you promised.”
“I did, but got his voicemail.” She’d wanted to rush up to the woman dancing with the avatar and warn her. The woman was new, one of Eve’s own designs. But she didn’t warn her, and it was eating at her. Instead, she waited while Gary kept an eye out.
“So what’s up with Gary?”
“I don’t want Noah to get in trouble, but I wanted to visit Claudio. Claudio designed the male dancer, so I couldn’t go using one of my designs. He’d have spotted me right away and thought I was spying on his new spring line. Claudio is very paranoid.”
“Claudio is very pricey,” David said.
“Spendy. That’s what they say here. Tell me you didn’t buy from Claudio.”
“Nah, just went for ideas. I spend my Shadowbucks on cars. Really fast cars.”
She smiled at him, delighted. “You’re a racer?”
“Occasionally. I had to upgrade my computer system. The Monte Carlo expansion pack uses more RAM than my computer came with.”
“You should’ve gone with the poker expansion pack. No additional RAM needed.”
“But racing is cooler. Do you play in the casino?”
“Used to. Now I just watch. One of my red-zones lives at the poker table. Awhile back, I was the top winner for weeks. But racing is cooler.”
“So why’d you go see Claudio?”
“I thought I’d find out about that avatar, see who he’s sold it to.”
David looked skeptical. “He won’t tell you that, will he?”
“He did. Gary asked for references. Claudio felt sorry for Gary’s plainness, and was happy to help him upgrade, giving screen names of clients, two of which bought the dancer. I’ll give them to Noah. He needs to call soon. I have to work tonight.”
David frowned. “I don’t like the idea of you being alone.”
“I work in a bar full of cops. I’ll be fine. If you’re so worried, come with me.”
He shook his head. “I’m having dinner with Tom.”
Eve frowned. “Not fair. The only time I have the night off, he’s at a game.”
“Take the night off. It’ll be like old times.”
It sounded sweet. “I want to, but I can’t. I missed last night and I need the money.”
“Then I’ll drop you off and pick you up at Sal’s.”
“That’ll work. I think I’ll call Noah again. Sal’s gonna be pissed if I’m late.”
Tuesday, February 23, 6:45 p.m.
“This is a mistake.” Joan Girard followed as Noah and Jack escorted her husband from their nice Edina home, wringing her hands in helpless misery. “A huge mistake.”
“Of course it is.” Axel Girard tried to soothe his wife. “Call the lawyer, he’ll know what to do. Keep the boys calm. Tell them I’ll be home in time to read their bedtime stories.”
“Now that’s a fairy tale, pal,” Jack said caustically. “You shouldn’t lie to your kids like that. But then again, what’s a little lie after three murders?”
“I’m telling you I have no idea what you’re talking about. Joan, go back inside,” Girard said, his smile forced. He gestured toward their picture window with his head, where two terrified children cried as their father was taken away.
Jack wasn’t gentle as he helped Girard into the backseat. “Keep your hands where I can see them or I’ll have to cuff you in front of the kids. Come on, Web. Let’s go.”
“Wait.” Noah’s cell was vibrating for the third time in minutes. “I need to take this.”
“Fine. Just hurry.” Jack got behind the wheel, turning to watch Axel Girard.
Noah glanced at his caller ID. Eve. “What’s happened?”
“I tried to call you before,” Eve started.
“This isn’t a good time. Can I call you back?”
“No. I have some information and need to leave for work. I don’t think you want me to be talking about this in the bar. I found the male avatar. He’s in Ninth Circle.”
Still outside the car, Noah stared at the man in the backseat. “Right now?”
“Yeah. I’m lookin’ right at him.”
So am I, Noah thought, but his gut wasn’t right. “You’re sure it’s the same guy?”
“As sure as I can be. You told me not to approach him.”
“You mean you didn’t? Not even as Nemesis?”
“I didn’t want to get you into trouble. But I did get into the user files. The avatars were changed and I have the dates and times the codes were accessed. You ready?”
He pulled his pad from his pocket. I didn’t want to get you into trouble. Noah cursed himself for not having told her they’d requested the study files. He should have, but he hadn’t. You’re a coward. “Yeah, I’m ready.”
She rattled off times and dates, all within the last three days. “He didn’t access any of their files until after you discovered Martha’s body,” she said. “I don’t know why. I also have user names for you on the dancer. Don’t worry, nobody will know it was me.”
Noah wrote it all down. “This is incredible, Eve. Thank you.”
There was a half beat of silence. “What’s wrong, Noah?”
Everything, he wanted to say. Girard was sitting in the backseat, lips moving. Praying, Noah thought. Joan stood on their front porch, crying. Neither of them had been on the computer when they’d arrived. The family had been at the dinner table.
“I’m not sure,” he said.
“Look, Noah, this guy is hitting on women in Ninth Circle left and right. If this is the guy, he could be hunting as we speak.”
But Girard was not hunting. “Yeah, I know. Do me a favor and call Abbott. Tell him about seeing the avatar. He can go online and monitor.”
“He knows how?”
“Ah, he’s a quick study. He figured it out. How are you getting to work tonight?”
“I have my car back, but David’s scared to let me drive alone, so he’s driving me.”
“Good for David. You got your keys back, then?”
“No. I looked, but didn’t find them. I’m still using the set Callie gave me last night.”
“I’ll see if CSU found them at the scene,” he said. He drew a breath. “Eve… we had to request the participant files from the university. I’m sorry.”
There was another beat of silence. “I knew you would. It’s not your fault, Noah.”
“I’m still sorry. I’ll stop by Sal’s later if I can.”
“That’s fine,” she said, but it was as if all the air had been forced from her lungs. She disconnected and he felt as if all the air had been forced from his lungs, as well.
Jack rolled down his window. “You okay?”
No. “Yeah. I’m coming.”
Tuesday, February 23, 7:55 p.m.
“Excuse me, Miss Wilson?” Eve looked up from the drink she was mixing to see a petite redhead perched on a bar stool, her hands folded primly on the bar. Eve had seen her before. She was Trina, married to Noah’s cousin Brock, who occasionally sat with Noah as he drank his tonic water. Trina sometimes came in with her girlfriends and they were pretty good tippers, but somehow Eve doubted Trina was here for a drink today. Eve knew when she was being scrutinized. And found wanting.
She smiled, despite the jitters in her stomach. “Chardonnay, right?”
Trina didn’t smile back. “Right, but I’m not here to drink tonight. I came to see you. What are your intentions regarding Noah?”
“I don’t know what you mean.”
“You kissed him today in the Deli. Don’t look so surprised,” she added dryly. “You of all people should know how the rumor mill churns.”
“Cops and firefighters,” Eve murmured. “Nosy bastards. No offense intended.”
Humor flickered briefly in the woman’s brown eyes. “None taken. So?”
“I could say it’s none of your business,” Eve said.
Trina’s eyes narrowed. “But you won’t. I care about Noah. He’s a good man.”
“I know,” Eve said quietly.
“And for some reason he cares about you.”
“I know,” Eve repeated, brushing aside her irritation at for some reason. Trina was protecting her family. That Eve understood. “That kiss…” Didn’t mean anything, she wanted to say, but that was a lie. “Was a mistake. I’ve told Noah I’m not interested.”
“You kissed him, where everyone would see,” Trina said, her lips thinning in disapproval. “You never struck me as a tease, Eve.”
“I’m not a tease,” Eve responded, indignant. But several customers were watching, so she leaned forward. “Talk to Noah. It needs to come from him. It was for his job.”
Trina looked taken aback. “You’re helping him?” she asked.
“I’m trying. But you don’t need to worry. I don’t intend to cling when it’s all over.” Eve’s tone was harsh, sardonic. Because clinging was exactly what she wanted to do.
“I see,” Trina murmured. “You do realize that you can hurt him?”
Eve swallowed hard. “Yeah. I got that part. I’m doing my best not to.”
“And you’re not interested? At all?”
God, yes. “No,” she said. Firmly.
Trina sat back, all primness gone. “You’re as bad a liar as he is.”
Eve blinked at her. “Excuse me?”
Trina pulled a bowl of salted peanuts closer. “You want him. He wants you. He’s a good man. You seem to be a good person, too. So what’s the problem here?”
Eve shook her head. “Wait. You want me to want him?”
“I want you to cling like socks out of the dryer.” She popped a few nuts in her mouth while Eve stared. “He’s overcome a lot. From what I’ve read on the Internet, so have you. Two lost souls, both want each other… Color me a romantic, but it could work.”
Eve’s cheeks flamed. “It’s not that simple.”
Trina’s red brows rose. “Why not? You dying? Six months to live?”
Eve coughed. “No,” she said, stunned.
“Diseases? Witness protection? Secret husband? Undercover nun?”
Eve shook her head, feeling like she’d been run over by a very small truck. “No.”
“Do you like him?” Trina wagged her forefinger in warning. “And don’t you lie to me.”
“Yes,” Eve murmured. “Very much.”
“Good. Now we’re getting somewhere. So you like him, you want him, and there are no reasonable impediments to a relationship that I can see. Do you like roast beef?”
Eve had given up trying to keep up. “Yes.”
“Good. We eat Sundays at five.” She pulled a folded piece of paper from her pocket.
Eve saw it held an address, neatly printed. “You planned to invite me all along?”
“Yes.” Trina smiled then. “Noah made me promise not to interfere, but I figured that kiss this morning nullified any promises previously rendered. I wanted to talk to you, find out if you were leading him on.” She sobered. “You’re not. Whatever’s bothering you is real. But time is precious and Noah’s wasted a lot of years. Figure out how to deal with whatever’s keeping you from ‘being interested.’ See you on Sunday.”
And with that she slid off the stool and left, leaving Eve staring after her.
Tuesday, February 23, 7:55 p.m.
“So all we have tying this guy to the murder is his car leaving a parking lot after one of the victims?” ADA Brian Ramsey frowned into the glass separating them from an ashen-faced Axel Girard. “Nothing more?”
“No,” Noah said. Either Girard was good or he was telling the truth.
“That’s not enough to at least hold him?” Jack demanded.
“Not unless you have something physical tying him to the victim or the scene.”
Jack huffed in frustration. “Dammit, Brian.”
“What about his alibi for Sunday night when the Lewis woman was killed?”
“His wife says he was with her,” Jack said sarcastically. “All night. Like we haven’t heard that before. Dammit, those pictures don’t lie. He was there.”
“His car was there,” Brian corrected. “That’s what the defense will claim.”
“He never reported it stolen,” Abbott said. “If the wife says he was with her all night, he couldn’t have been in the parking lot to begin with. Somebody’s lying and those pictures from the diner’s surveillance system are clear.”
“Crystal clear,” Jack added. “Wives always say their husbands were there all night.”
Brian grunted his agreement to that. “Noah, you’re being awfully quiet.”
Noah glanced at Jack, who was glaring at him. They’d had this conversation already and Jack was not a happy partner. Jack was also an uninformed partner. Noah hadn’t told him about Eve’s call. He’d started to a dozen times, but… hadn’t.
“I don’t think he did it, but I sure as hell don’t want to take the chance that I’m wrong. If he did it, I don’t want to give him opportunity to kill again.”
“What about his alibis for the nights the other two were killed?” Brian pressed.
“Ian’s time of death windows are wide on the other two,” Noah said. “As best we can pinpoint, Girard was home with his wife.”
“We passed out photos of the three victims at our press conference today,” Abbott said. “They’ll run on newscasts and in the papers. We’re hoping to find somebody who saw these women the night they were attacked.”
“That’s good, but that doesn’t help me right now,” Brian said.
Noah thought of the dates Eve had given him, when the killer had changed his victims’ avatars. If Girard had alibis for those times, other than his wife, he’d be cleared. But if he used the information Eve had given him, Ramsey would want to know where it came from and if it resulted in proving Girard’s guilt, they couldn’t use it anyway.
And Eve’s hacking would be exposed.
Noah blinked hard. Too little sleep and too much worry were fogging his brain.
“Noah?” Abbott prodded. “What are you thinking?”
Noah rubbed his temples, hard. “That we need more information. His car was there, but was he? And if he wasn’t, how did his car get there? He’s involved somehow, Brian. Can’t we keep him here until we figure out how?”
Brian shook his head. “Until you can place him at the scene, you can’t hold him.”
“Goddammit,” Jack spat. He glared at Noah. “You know he’s going to do it again.”
“I know he’s going to do it again,” Noah spat back, “but he might not be him.”
Brian shrugged. “Cut him loose, guys.”
“We’ll put an unmarked car on his house,” Abbott said. “That’s the best we can do for now. Get something physical to connect Girard. But first, take a break and cool off.”
“I don’t need a break,” Jack said, disgusted. “I’m going to the morgue. Maybe Ian’s finished with Samantha Altman by now. Maybe he’s found something physical.”
Noah winced when Jack shut the door too hard.
Brian Ramsey was looking at him with concern. “You okay, Web?”
“Too little sleep, too much coffee.” And too much worry. “Thanks for coming.”
Abbott looked distinctly unhappy. “I’ll cut Mr. Girard loose. Noah, go to my office.”
Feeling like a kid about to be scolded by the principal, Noah could only obey.
Ten minutes later Abbott closed his office door, a cup of coffee in each hand. “There’s a fine line between too much and not enough,” he said, handing him a cup.
“Too much and not enough what?” Noah asked and Abbott shrugged.
“You tell me,” he said, sitting in his chair. “And I mean that. You better tell me.”
Noah’s head nodded. His mouth, however, did not cooperate.
“Sometime today,” Abbott added sharply. “What’s going on between you and Jack?”
“Too much and not enough,” Noah muttered, then met his boss’s eyes. “Eve.”
Abbott looked unsurprised. “Are we talking turf war or cold war?”
Noah laughed, but it wasn’t a happy sound. “Both. Jack’s been after her for months.”
“Yeah, I knew that. I go to Sal’s. I’ve got eyes. And today Eve locks lips with you.”
Noah’s brows went up. “You know about that, too?”
“Yes,” Abbott said, clearly annoyed Noah would even ask the question. “I sent two uniforms to keep an eye out. Instead they got an eye full. What were you thinking?”
I wasn’t. For those few seconds he’d held her, Noah hadn’t thought about anything at all. Except that he’d wanted more. He still did.
“It wasn’t planned, Bruce. She’d been confronted by her advisor’s assistant and that asshole Buckland within the space of an hour. She was trying to keep her involvement… secret. Jack accused her of doing so to protect her job.”
“And wasn’t she?” Abbott asked, and Noah shook his head.
“No. She knows it’ll all come out eventually and she’ll lose her spot in the program.”
“There are other graduate programs.”
“She said she’d be blacklisted from those. Anyway, Jack apologized later, said he was basically jealous. Of me.”
“Yeah,” Abbott said, again unsurprised.
“Why do I get the impression that you know all and you’re just making me dance?”
“Being captain is more than nodding when you bring me information,” Abbott said testily. “I know my staff. Personalities have to work. Until this week, yours and Jack’s did.” His frown softened. “And you didn’t see your face last night when she was talking.”
“When?” Noah asked, feeling testy himself now.
“Every time she opened her mouth. Do I need to take you off this case?”
“No.” Noah drew a breath. “She called you about the male avatar, right?”
“She did. I’ve been following him off and on.” Abbott pointed to his screen. “He’s still there, doing the tango. And if he’s in there, Girard can’t be him. Is that it?”
“Partly, yes. And partly that it just doesn’t feel right, Bruce. After all he’s done to date, he drove his own car and let it be photographed by security cameras.”
“How could he have known he was being photographed?”
“Because there were about a hundred signs all over the goddamned parking lot,” Noah snapped, frustrated. “That was the point of the surveillance system. The two store owners wanted everybody to know they were on candid camera. That was the deterrent.” He rubbed the back of his neck. “Plus, I just don’t think he did it, Bruce. I’ve been doing this job a long time and I don’t think he did it.”
“Jack’s been doing it a long time, too,” Abbott said quietly.
“Don’t you think I know that? Don’t you think he informed me of that, several times?” Noah pushed his knuckles into his throbbing temples. “There’s more I couldn’t tell him.”
“Because you’re not supposed to know.”
Noah looked up. “Now you’re scaring me.”
“I figured this was bound to happen. Eve hacked into ShadowCo’s server. What did she find that we can’t legally use?”
“Times that the killer logged in and changed the avatars’ faces.”
Abbott’s eyes sparkled with interest. “Times that Axel Girard will need alibis for. Why didn’t you tell Jack?”
“Today Eve offered to go onto the university’s server to get us the test subjects’ files. She said she could do it faster. That’s when Jack accused her of trying to keep her job and said we couldn’t use the info anyway. About the second thing he was right. But a week ago? He would have grabbed those files as fast as she could have printed them.”
“Now you’re wondering how much of Jack’s sudden moral uprightness is true belief and how much is the fact Eve rejected him. And how much of your willingness to accept illegally gotten information is because you want to catch a killer versus being smitten.”
Noah sucked in one cheek. “God, you are scary good.”
“That’s why they pay me the medium-sized bucks. I’ll find out if we can get a warrant for Girard’s house and office, including the computers, based on what we know.”
“If he is guilty, he’ll wipe the evidence tonight. Or he’ll destroy it.”
“Then we’ll have to go the conventional route, request ShadowCo’s records, and hope that they cooperate.”
“Have they so far?”
Abbott shook his head. “We requested the victims’ files and they said that they are ‘committed to providing their users with a place where their anonymity remains secure.’ ”
“Sometimes you want to go where no one knows your name,” Noah said.
“Exactly. We’ll keep an eye on Mr. Girard tonight, then in the morning the two of you pay him a visit at work. Find out where he was at the times Eve said the killer changed the avatars. We can at least do that.”
Noah stood. “Did Olivia and Kane search that apartment next to Martha Brisbane’s?”
“They did. It was filled with bags of garbage. Some was Martha’s mail.”
“Because he made her clean the house.” Noah frowned. “Why would he do that?”
“Don’t know. I made sure Carleton knew, so he could incorporate it into his profile.”
“Were there any papers, documents showing her Shadowland movements?”
“So far no. Olivia and Kane have gone through about half of it. Micki had the carpet vacuumed and all surfaces dusted for prints, but if we find Kobrecki’s prints, they’ll just say he was doing maintenance. Micki will have a prelim report tomorrow morning.”
The thought of Micki reminded Noah he needed to ask if anyone had found Eve’s keys. One thought of Eve spurred another. “Eve had some screen name possibilities for that dancing avatar. She thought you might be able to use them in a warrant.”
“I already know his name. He’s Romeo62.”
Noah looked at Abbott’s screen. “What happened to your other guy?”
“Ditched him. Meet Lola.” Lola was a statuesque raven-haired stunner. “I’m trying to get Romeo to talk to me, ask him to meet me. My guy avatar was a definite liability.”
“Better for you to go undercover than Eve.” Who wanted to catch this guy for all the right-and wrong-reasons. Either way, Noah wanted her off the playing field.
“I thought so, too. If Girard’s innocent, we need to continue the Romeo lead. Work things out with Jack. I won’t have you working against each other. Are we clear?”
“Yes, sir.”
Tuesday, February 23, 8:45 p.m.
“Miss Wilson?” For the second time that evening Eve found herself summoned. A man stood at the bar, looking out of place in a suit. He was an infrequent customer, but she didn’t know his name and for the life of her, could not remember his drink.
She smiled her bartender smile. “Yes, how can I help you?”
“It’s more how I can help you. I’m Dr. Carleton Pierce. I’m a psychologist.”
Apprehension tickled the back of her neck. “Nice to meet you,” she said as he put a piece of paper on the bar. Immediately she recognized her own name. “My thesis abstract.”
“I work with Noah Webster. Today I heard an interesting story about a confidential informant. Web was adamant on keeping this person’s name secret. He’s worried I’ll turn him… or her… in. I wanted you to know that I don’t plan to.”
Eve’s exhale was controlled, her frown confused. “I’m sorry. I’m not following you.”
He smiled gently. “I’m really here to help you. It took me five minutes to locate your abstract in the university’s online library. Using Shadowland as a training tool has amazing therapeutic potential. But your study has attracted the attention of a dangerous man. I was there, yesterday, at your friend’s house. I was shaken. I still am.”
A chill raced down Eve’s back as she thought of Christy, hanging from that rope. Her eyes… “You’ll have to talk to Detective Webster, sir. He has all the information.”
“Because you gave it to him,” Pierce said kindly. “That was very brave, Eve. You could be facing disciplinary action for breaking double-blind, but I think I can stop that. I know Dr. Donner’s boss, Dean Jacoby. We’re old friends. I can smooth the way.”
She studied his face. “Why?” she asked baldly.
“You’ll need others throughout your career, Eve. We all do. Colleagues, experts. Mentors. You found yourself in an untenable situation and you did the right thing. I’d hate to see you penalized. You have a great career ahead of you. It would be a travesty for you to lose it all before you even begin.”
He took a business card from the pocket of his expensive suit and slid it across the bar. She stared at the card for a moment before putting it in her pocket. Then she met his eyes, remembering her manners. “Thank you. I’ll keep it in mind.”
He nodded once. “Good,” he said and turned to put on his coat and gloves.
“Dr. Pierce, does Detective Webster know you came?”
“No. But as I said, it took less than five minutes to connect the study with you. You will be found out, but I think you knew that before you came forward.”
“Yes, I did,” she murmured and in his eyes she saw respect.
“Call me when you’re ready for me to talk to the dean. But I wouldn’t wait too long.”
She toyed with the business card in her pocket as he walked away, then sucked in a breath when Sal appeared at her elbow. “Who was that?” Sal asked, frowning.
“Psychologist,” Eve answered. “Works with the Hat Squad. Interested in my thesis.”
“I see,” Sal said stiffly and Eve looked up at him. He looked angry and… hurt.
He’d eavesdropped. No surprise there. “Go ahead. What did you hear?”
“ ‘Disciplinary action.’ And last night you were with the Hats. What’s going on?”
Eve dropped her voice. “Sal, somehow my thesis project is being used to hurt people. I can’t tell you any more than that. I’m sorry.”
“All right,” he said in begrudging acceptance. “So what about disciplinary action?”
“The way I got information was… against the rules.”
He met her eyes and once more she felt the scrutiny of another. But this was different. This was Sal. “Would you do it again?” he asked quietly.
“In a heartbeat,” she said without hesitation. “Less than a heartbeat.”
“Good enough for me,” he said, then his eyes went sly. “So what about the kiss?”
Eve looked up at the ceiling, flustered. “Oh for God’s sake.”
“I knew it,” Sal said smugly, rubbing his hands together. “I won the pool.”
Eve stared at him. “There was a fucking pool?”
“Well, not a fucking pool.” Sal snickered. “Just a kissing pool.”
I should have known. She controlled the anger that rose, knowing it came from humiliation. “Well, I hope you won a bundle,” she said quietly and he sobered quickly.
“Only a beer,” he said. “Eve, what’s wrong?”
Everything. A business card she was afraid to use, directions to a dinner she was afraid to attend. A good man who wanted her when he shouldn’t. A man she wanted, but couldn’t have, who’d end up hurt when this was over. A career on life support before it began. And over it all, three dead women, a dangerous man, and the real possibility he could strike again. That he was hunting fish in the very barrel she’d stocked.
A sudden urge to weep grabbed at her throat and she took an unsteady step back. “Nothing. I’m fine. I just need a break. Can you mind the bar?”
Without waiting for his answer, she went back to his office, hearing his heavy sigh. “Goddammit,” he muttered, which Eve thought summed it up pretty well.