I’m Watching You

Chapter Seventeen

Tuesday, February 24,

8:30 a.m.

Jack was pleased. „We got more than a DNA sample from the lid of that coffee cup,“ he announced. „Our guy’s got a sore throat. We found traces of mentholyptis in the coffee, like he’d been sucking a cough drop at the same time he was drinking.“

„Oh joy,“ Mia said sarcastically. „It’s flu season. Let’s round up everybody with a sniffle.“

„It might be why he missed,“ Abe mused. „He’s not feeling well.“

„Poor baby,“ Kristen said unfeelingly. „My heart bleeds for him.“

„Regardless, he might screw up again.“ Mia held up a plastic bag. „And now we’ve got a maker’s mark. Hot off the press.“

Spinnelli took the bag and held it up to the light. „It’s in good shape this time.“

„They recovered it from Carson ’s right lung,“ Abe offered. „The surgeon was able to get it out just a few hours ago.“

„I’m glad we were there,“ Mia growled. „He almost threw it away.“

„But he felt so bad about it he asked Mia out to dinner to apologize,“ Abe added with a grin and after another second of growling, Mia grinned, too.

„A doctor this time. I’m movin’ up in the world.“

Spinnelli shook his head with an unwilling smile. „So what’s next, people?“

„Julia will autopsy Arthur Monroe today,“ Mia offered. „It’s strange, you know? Conti’s death was so brutal and Monroe…“ She lifted a shoulder. „Just a pop to the head and he’s done. Not what I would have expected him to do to a guy who molested a little girl.“

„Conti was an aberration,“ Jack said. „He got so riled when Conti – what was it – ’publicly assassinated’ Kristen. That was… personal. Now he’s back to business.“

„Maybe he’s rattled,“ Kristen said thoughtfully. „He lost control with Conti.“

„Which could be another reason he missed Carson last night,“ Abe said. „I want to know how he lured Carson to the ambush. We know Skinner got a delivery the day he was murdered. Let’s find out if Carson did, too.“

Spinnelli frowned. „Ask him.“

Mia shook her head. „We waited around after the surgery, just to see if he’d come to, but he didn’t. The hospital’s supposed to call us when he regains consciousness.“

„What about Munoz?“ Spinnelli pressed. „How does he connect to Carson?“

Mia shrugged. „ Carson told the guys at the scene he’d hired him as his bodyguard.“

„Apparently a lot of the defense attorneys are doing that,“ Kristen said dryly. „One of them faxed me his bill just before I left the office yesterday afternoon.“

„Hell of a bodyguard,“ Jack muttered. „Guy didn’t even have a gun.“

Mia frowned. „You didn’t find a gun? He had a holster. I remember seeing it when they zipped up the body bag.“

„We didn’t take it,“ Jack said. „The only thing we got from Munoz’s body was his phone.“

„Then somebody else took it,“ Abe said. „Somebody saw the shooting go down and took the gun before the cops got there.“

„Maybe the killer took it,“ Jack said.

Mia shook her head. „Then why didn’t he take Munoz’s cell phone, too? That’s how we knew where to find them – the cell phone.“

„GPS again,“ Jack said. „You’re right, Mia. If he’d had the presence of mind to take the gun, he should have seen the cell phone, too. It was clutched in Munoz’s hand.“

„That means we have a witness,“ Abe said.

„Who saw a van with a fictitious magnetic sign,“ Kristen sighed. „So what?“

„One of these days we’re going to have a witness who actually sees something worthwhile,“ Abe insisted. „Marc, can you get somebody to sweep the pawnshops? My bet is that Munoz’s gun wasn’t cheap, and whoever stole it will hock it.“

Spinnelli wrote himself a note. „I’ll ask Murphy to do it. He just closed a big case.“

„Whoever took it probably has a couple guns of his own already,“ Mia muttered.

„Everybody does but me,“ Kristen grumbled.

Abe’s lips curved. „You can pick yours up tomorrow, but if you want to visit it first, you can come see Diana Givens with us. Since you’re on an ‘overdue vacation.’“

„What?“ Jack asked openmouthed. „What happened?“

„I got put on administrative leave. The defense attorneys say I’m a menace.“ She said it deadpan and Mia snickered.

Abe’s lips twitched. „We’re punchy, Marc. None of us got any sleep last night.“

Spinnelli looked over at Kristen. „You didn’t go to the scene, did you?“

Kristen shook her head. „No, I but I couldn’t sleep either. I did some research last night while you were at the hospital with Carson.“ She tapped the stack of papers on the table in front of her. „With the exception of the Blade members and Angelo Conti, every one of the attacks has been related to a sexual assault. There doesn’t seem to be a pattern, though. There’s no chronology. He jumps a year forward, back, then forward. There’s no commonality in sentence except that not one did any physical time. Some got off entirely, a few were plead down. He’s got lawyers and defendants. I’d say he’s choosing his victims at random, but that the deck’s stacked with sex crimes.“

„Okay.“ Spinnelli gestured to the papers in front of her. „So what’s in those?“

„All the sexual assaults I prosecuted over the last five years where the perp did no physical time. I don’t think there is a connection between the cases. But the killer has a connection to one of these cases, I’m sure of it. It may not be one of the victims he’s already avenged. Maybe it’s still to come. Maybe the others are…“ She shrugged. „Public service.“

„Our humble servant“ Jack blew out a breath.

„Exactly. Anyway, chances are good that the next time he strikes, it will be someone on this list, either a perp or his lawyer.“

Spinnelli recoiled. „Please tell me you’re not suggesting we guard all those people.“

„No, Marc. But remember how Westphalen thought there had been a trauma recently? Well, you’ve investigated all the original victims so far and found no real trauma around the time of the first killing – Anthony Ramey. I thought I’d start calling the victims of these cases and finding out how they are. Find out if any of them have experienced significant trauma.“

„If it’s the killer, they won’t admit to any recent trauma,“ Jack said.

Kristen lifted a brow. „I thought of that. This isn’t going to necessarily be a smoking gun. It may eliminate some of the names on this list. Do you have a better suggestion? You have DNA, one unconscious man, a partial fingerprint and a bullet“

„The man may regain consciousness and the bullet we can trace,“ Abe said.

Kristen shrugged. „So trace it. My looking up old cases shouldn’t affect that.“

„It could help, Abe,“ Mia said slowly. „Besides, Kristen’s on ‘vacation.’ If it were me, I’d be nuts without something to do.“

„There is that,“ Kristen admitted. „Other than finishing my basement mantel, I’d just be twiddling my thumbs and that would drive me crazy. I’m not suspended from John’s office, I’m just not working any active cases. Nobody said anything about archived cases.“

Abe understood the need to keep busy. He’d thrown himself into the job when Debra was shot. Most days, it was the only thing that kept him going. „Do it from here,“ he told her. „I don’t want anyone tracing calls to your house.“

„There are a lot of names here,“ Spinnelli said. „This will take you hours. Days.“

Kristen looked at each one of them sharply. „Look, we’ve got nine bodies. Nine. I don’t plan to go to any of their funerals and cry, but they’re dead nonetheless. Skinner left behind a wife and kids. They deserve justice if nobody else. My life is on hold and my mother was threatened last night. Until we catch this guy, I have all the time in the world.“

Tuesday, February 24,

9:15 A.M.

Mia leaned against the glass countertop, staring at Diana Givens who stared at the bullet through a magnifying glass.

„Well?“ she demanded. „Have you seen it or not?“

Diana glanced up, annoyed. „Keep your pants on.“ She bent her head down, squinting. „Intertwined M’s or W’s. I haven’t seen anything like this, but one of my customers might.“

„So where can we find your customers?“ Mia pressed.

„Well, I told you I was going to invite them over, but I didn’t think you’d be back with a good bullet so soon.“ She passed the bullet back to Mia and grabbed a sheet of paper from under the counter. „Here. I’ll give you their names. You can talk to them if you want.“

Mia gave Diana a smile. „Thanks. We’ll owe you one.“

Tuesday, February 24,

11:30 a.m.

„I hate hospitals almost as much as morgues,“ Abe grumbled.

Mia kept her eyes on the rising elevator display. „I know. You told me last night while we were waiting for Carson. Several times.“ The bell dinged and the doors opened. „Don’t be such a baby. Come on, I want to talk to him before he goes unconscious again.“

A nurse frowned as they came into Carson’s room. „He’s in no shape to talk.“

„He’s alive,“ Mia snapped. „That puts him in better shape than the nine bodies in the morgue.“

Carson lay against the pillows, his face ashen. „Munoz?“

„He’s dead,“ Abe said quietly.

„Hell of a bodyguard,“ Carson mumbled. „I’ll have to remember not to pay his bill.“

Mia rolled her eyes, but her voice was professional when she stepped up to Carson’s bedside. „We just have a few questions, Mr. Carson, then we’ll leave you to rest. We need to know what brought you to that particular spot last night.“

Carson closed his eyes and took a shallow breath. „Information,“ he said. „I got a call on my cell phone before dinner. Told me they had information about Melanie Rivers.“

„Who is Melanie Rivers?“ Abe asked and Carson grimaced.

„Little white trash.“ He breathed and they waited. „She filed a rape charge against my client, said he’d molested her at a party. She knows he’s got money.“ He breathed some more. „She just wants a settlement. Her pound of flesh.“

Abe bit back his distaste. „Maybe she’s telling the truth.“

„So what if she is?“ Carson opened his eyes, sharp and canny despite his physical state. „I know what you think about me and frankly I don’t care. I don’t expect you to do much of anything anyway.“

„And why is that?“ Mia asked coldly.

Carson’s gray lips twisted. „He’s doing your dirty work for you, this killer. If the tables were turned, I’d look the other way, too.“

Mia opened her mouth to say something then pursed her lips firmly. Abe stepped in to continue. „Who had your cell phone number, Mr. Carson?“

„Not many people. That’s why I went to meet him. He said he’d gotten my number from a mutual friend and he wanted to help me out. For a fee.“ He breathed heavily, then batted away the nurse’s hand when she tried to adjust the oxygen line in his nose. „Said he wanted two G’s. If we’d won the case, it would have been cheap.“

Abe was wondering what kind of friends a parasite like Carson would harbor when he had a sudden thought. „Would Trevor Skinner have known your cell phone number?“ he asked. „Maybe had it in a phone book?“

„Probably.“ Carson drew a labored breath. „Trev kept his life in his BlackBerry.“

„You mean his electronic organizer?“ Mia asked.

Carson nodded. „Clever little thing. Trev could send e-mails from anywhere.“ He lifted a brow. „His BlackBerry wasn’t on him when you found him, was it?“

„No.“ Abe shook his head. „No, it wasn’t.“

„Then I’d say you have your work cut out for you, Detectives. Trev knew the private lives of every one of his clients and half the lawyers in town. Judges, too.“

Tuesday, February 24,

1:30 p.m.

Spinnelli frowned. „Judges, too? What did he mean by that?“

Mia squirted ketchup over her burger. „He just smiled and told us to figure it out. S.O.B.“

„He’s right, though.“ Abe considered the implications yet again. „If the killer has Skinner’s organizer, he has enough ammunition to hold him for weeks.“

„Speaking of ammunition,“ Spinnelli said, „what happened at the gun shop?“

„She gave us names of customers who make their own bullets,“ Mia said. „We’d visited the first two on the list when we got the call from the hospital saying Carson was awake. Neither had seen the mark before, but we still have four more names.“

„Well, we got a reply on opening Aaron Jenkins’s juvenile record.“ Spinnelli clenched his jaw. „No, no, and no.“

Abe sighed. „Then let’s visit the mother after we see the other old men.“

Mia peeked in the bag. „One more burger. We brought it for Kristen. Where is she?“

Abe’s eyes took yet another sweep of the office area. She’d been his first thought as he entered, occupying a corner of his mind even as they’d updated Spinnelli over lunch. But Mia had smirked at him smugly, so he’d held back his demand to know Kristen’s whereabouts.

Spinnelli shrugged. „She took a break about an hour ago. She went to lunch.“

Abe felt the hair on the back of his neck stand on end. „You let her go? Alone?“

„She’s a grown woman, Abe,“ Spinnelli said mildly. „And not a stupid one. She told me where she was going and asked Murphy to take her there. Some place called Owen’s. It’s a diner, I take it.“

Abe relaxed a bit. „It is.“

„But you’ll still call her to make sure she’s all right,“ Mia added slyly.

Abe concentrated on his burger, well aware of the knowing glance passing between Marc and Mia and not giving a damn. „I will.“

Tuesday, February 24,

1:30 p.m.

„You cleaned your plate,“ Vincent said approvingly.

Kristen looked down at the crumbs. „I was hungry.“ Which surprised her. After hours of accepting the pent-up anger of the victims she’d once represented, she’d thought her appetite gone. She’d come here to get away for a little while, agreeing to lunch only after Owen shook his finger in her face before disappearing to train his newest hire. Kristen winced at. the crash of dishes and Owen’s shout. „I’m not sure who I feel sorrier for. Owen or the new guy.“

Vincent shook his shaggy head. „I think you should feel sorrier for me. I’ve got a mind to stop by Timothy’s to ask his mom when he’s coming home. How sick can one grandmother be? He needs to get back to work before I lose my temper.“

„How long did Timothy work here?“ Kristen asked and Vincent scratched his head.

„Well, I’ve been here for fifteen years. Owen bought the place about three years ago and hired Timothy about a year later. Anyway, you want some pie? I made it this morning.“

„You twisted my arm, Vincent.“

Vincent grinned his slow grin. „With ice cream?“

„Of course.“

Vincent was heaping scoops of vanilla on her pie when the little bell on the glass door jangled. Kristen shivered at the blast of cold air at her back, then glanced over her shoulder when Vincent slowly lowered the ice-cream dipper and stared. Kristen stared, too, needing a minute to process the face above the calf-length fur coat that seemed out of place in a diner whose seats were cracked vinyl. Then realization clicked.

„Sara?“ John’s wife. Oh, God, she thought, looking at Sara Alden’s stricken face and thinking the worst. „What’s wrong? What’s happened to John?“

Sara unbuttoned her coat with cool grace. „Can we talk privately, Kristen?“

„Of course.“ She led her boss’s wife to a booth in the corner.

Sitting, Sara abruptly asked, „Why did you think something was wrong with John?“

„You went to a lot of trouble to find me here. I just assumed… How did you find me?“

„Lois said you might be here. She said you were out of the office indefinitely.“

Kristen felt the sting, deep inside. „Yes, that’s true.“

„John is responsible.“ Sara’s eyes flashed with anger.

Bewildered, Kristen shook her head. „No, John’s boss made the call. John said he tried to keep him from putting me on leave, but Milt was determined.“

Sara’s lips curled. „Yeah, I’ll just bet John tried real hard.“

Kristen wasn’t sure how to respond to that. „Sara, what’s going on here?“

„Lieutenant Spinnelli’s office called this morning. A Detective Murphy said they were confirming alibis for everyone in John’s department for the nights those men were murdered. He asked about John.“

„That’s true, but it’s standard procedure. Lieutenant Spinnelli’s just making sure that they’ve looked at everyone who was involved in all those old cases. Is that what you’re worried about, Sara? I can tell you, nobody suspects John. He’s not involved in murder.“

„He lied,“ Sara said flatly. „John told Spinnelli’s man that he was home in bed with me. But he lied. He was with another woman. He thinks I sleep, but I know when he’s gone.“

Kristen sat back and drew a deep breath. John was on Spinnelli’s list of sharpshooters. She knew that. She’d also dismissed it as soon as she’d seen his name on the list. Not once had she entertained the notion that John Alden could be involved in murder. John went to great lengths to follow procedure. To ensure all the statutes were followed, that every convicted man was convicted legally. He was a good prosecutor.

But apparently a bad husband.

„Oh, Sara.“ To her dismay Sara’s eyes filled with tears. „I wish I knew what to say.“

Sara dug into her purse for a handkerchief. „He actually expected me to lie for him.“

„Did you?“

„No.“ Sara glared through her tears. „Well, not exactly. I told Detective Murphy that John never came to bed that night, that I couldn’t say for sure where he was.“

„But you know where he was?“ Kristen asked gently.

Sara pulled her fur collar high on her neck, gathering her composure. „He’s talked in his sleep for years, Kristen. He says all kinds of things. Sometimes things I shouldn’t hear, but I’ve been a good wife all these years and haven’t shared any of his confidences.“

Kristen’s eyes widened at the implications. „He talks about cases in his sleep?“

„Among other things.“

„He said the other woman’s name in his sleep?“

„He did. Have you wondered how Zoe Richardson found out about the letters addressed to you, Kristen? About how he signs the letters ‘Your Humble Servant’?“ Kristen’s mouth fell open. „He muttered about it,“ Sara said softly, „in his sleep, a few nights after all this started, so I’ve known. So did Zoe Richardson.“

Kristen swallowed, connecting the dots but still unable to believe the picture. „He’s having an affair with Zoe Richardson? John? John Alden? My boss?“

„Your boss. My husband. Richardson’s not his first, Kristen. But this is different. You’re in danger and it’s because that woman plastered your face all over the news as some kind of link to this killer. I know about Friday night and Sunday night. You’ve been attacked twice.“

Kristen pressed her fingers to her lips, her brain reeling. „I…“ She met Sara’s eyes across the table. „Why didn’t you call him on the cheating before?“

Sara lifted a shoulder, misery in her eyes. „I was humiliated, so I let it go.“

„Until now.“ Kristen closed her eyes under the enormity of it all.

„I won’t lie for him, Kristen. And he should pay for what he’s done to you. The night you found the first letters, in your trunk? You tried to call him. Three times.“

„He didn’t have his phone on.“

„Because he was with her. He came home in the middle of the night, sneaking in like the dog he is. Took a shower, thinking I was sound asleep. I turned his phone back on, listened to his messages. Then I deleted them so he wouldn’t know what I’d done.“

„He was mad at the phone service for losing his messages,“ Kristen remembered, her mind still reeling. „He was mad at me for not calling him.“

Sara slid out of the booth. „Perhaps he’ll be taking a ‘vacation’ soon, too.“

Kristen watched her go, sighed, then took out her cell phone and dialed Spinnelli.

Tuesday, February 24,

5:30 P.M.

„Come in, sit down.“

Abe looked around the little apartment owned by Grayson James. There was a small fireplace with a mantel upon which rested several trophies, all for marksmanship. „Thank you for taking time to talk to us, Mr. James.“

„Diana said you’d be coming. She said you’re interested in maker’s marks.“ He put a small lamp on the kitchen table and flipped it on. „Let’s have the bullet.“

For the sixth and final time that day Mia drew out the plastic bag holding the bullet. No one else on Diana’s list had been able to help them.

„Can I touch it?“ James asked.

„By all means,“ Abe said and watched the old man handle the bullet with deft fingers. James held the bullet under the light.

Then sat down slowly. „Where did you get this?“ he asked.

Mia looked at Abe, a new energy in her eyes. „You’ve seen it?“

„I have. More years ago than I’d like to remember.“ For a long moment, James stared at the bullet, his face taking on a faraway expression. Then he blinked and gave the bullet back to Mia. „I had a friend when I was a boy, back before the War. He and I would shoot together at his father’s cabin.

His father made his own bullets, taught us to do it, too. That was his mark. I’d never seen it before and never seen it since. Where did you find it?“

„Your friend, Mr. James,“ Abe said as calmly as he could. „Can we talk to him?“

James’s lips thinned. „Not unless you’re into séances. Hank Worth died at Iwo Jima in 1944.“

Mia exhaled, her disappointment as palpable as his own. „Any surviving children?“

„Nope. He was only eighteen when we joined up. Look, I’ve helped you. The least you can do is tell me where you found this bullet. You’re detectives, so whatever it is, it can’t be good. I hate to see someone tarnishing Hank’s memory. He was my friend.“

Abe hesitated. „I can’t give you details, Mr. James, but we’re homicide detectives. This bullet was used in an attempted homicide.“

James’s eyes widened as he put two and two together. „You’re investigating that vigilante, the one killing criminals and lawyers.“

Mia’s back straightened at the implied accusation in James’s voice. „We are.“

„Seems like a quandary,“ James said. „He’s poppin’ off guys that deserve it, but still…“

„Still?“ Mia asked.

„Still, it’s killin’ all the same. I did it, in the war, because I had to. But it changes you. When you take the life outta somebody else’s body, it changes you.“

Mia looked lost for a moment and Abe knew she was remembering the firefight the night her old partner was killed. She’d shot a man that night, killing him. The punk’s pal shot both Mia and her partner. Mia was lucky to be alive. „Yes, Mr. James,“ she said, „it does. We need to find this guy. Please tell us anything else you remember.“

James was regarding her soberly. „My friend had a sweetheart before he shipped out to the Pacific. They’d planned to get married when he came back, but she up and married somebody else not two months after he left. Killed him, it did. Wait here.“

They waited in silence and a few minutes later James returned. „Here’s the letter he sent me. It’s dated December, 1943. Here’s her name, his sweetheart, that is. Genny O’Reilly. Said he’d just gotten her letter, but the mail took forever in those days. It could have been months before that she actually married the guy.“ He handed them the yellowed page. „I’d like it back when you’re done with it. Sometimes my memories are all I have left.“

Tuesday, February 24,

6:00 p.m.

Zoe’s boss, Alan Wainwright glared. „What were you thinking?“

Zoe glared back. „That if I got him drunk enough he’d let something slip.“

Wainwright sneered. „Like his zipper? My God, he’s the damn DA. Do you know how it feels to get reamed a new asshole by the mayor and the network execs?“

„Do you know how much our share has jumped since I broke the story?“ Zoe shot back. Today hadn’t been a picnic for her either, having to endure the catcalls and lewd ‘requests’ as she crossed the newsroom. It might as well have been a locker room. John Alden wasn’t the first man she’d used her body to get close to, but she picked men who would be discreet specifically because she didn’t want her story denigrated by sexual come-ons.

Wainwright paused, then smiled wolfishly. „Seven points.“

„So get off my fucking case,“ Zoe snarled. „I did what I needed to do. And I’d do it again.“ She grabbed her briefcase and headed for the door. All she wanted at this point was a hot bath and a glass of wine.

„Spinnelli told the mayor. Two guesses as to who told Spinnelli.“

Zoe froze. „Who?“ she asked, even though she knew only one person would warrant the smugness she heard in Wainwright’s tone.

„Kristen Mayhew.“

Zoe’s breath came out in a hiss and Wainwright chuckled.

„Just thought you’d want to know.“

Tuesday, February 24,

6:30 p.m.

Jacob Conti sat at his desk in the darkened room. He heard the murmured voices in the hall and knew Drake had come with a report, his second of the day. He knew the killer had struck twice since killing his Angelo, this last time leaving alive a witness.

He knew that his wife hadn’t left her bed since their son’s murder. He knew that in her few hours of lucidity she’d wept for her son in great heaving sobs that tore his heart out. He knew that she slept now, the doctor having given her yet another sedative.

He knew that his son’s body still lay nude and cold and butchered in the morgue.

More than anything else, he knew Angelo’s killer would pay-Drake slipped in and closed the door behind him. A moment of silence passed, then Drake’s voice came through the darkness. „Can we turn on a light, Jacob?“

„Whatever. It doesn’t matter.“

Light flooded the room. Jacob blinked his eyes against the sudden glare.

Drake approached with a frown. „You aren’t doing any good by sitting here in the dark.“

Jacob returned the frown. „Save the advice and tell me what you have.“

Drake drew a small notepad from his breast pocket. „She has very little family. A mother in a Kansas nursing home with Alzheimer’s who she visits religiously once a month and a father who says they haven’t spoken in years.“

„Why not?“

„He wouldn’t say, but I know there’s bad blood between them.“

„Then I take it he’s not dead. Yet.“

Drake shook his head. „I get the feeling his death wouldn’t be the club you’re looking for. I had a black rose and a note left on her mother’s pillow last night.“

Jacob’s lips twisted in a sneer. „Melodramatic, Drake.“

Drake shrugged. „It was meant to be. My man’s posing as an investigator following up on the flower and the note. If my man can’t dig anything up, there isn’t anything there.“

„Everybody’s got something. Even squeaky clean ASA Mayhew.“

Drake didn’t look convinced. „We’ll see. Your thug who attacked her Sunday night told her that if she didn’t talk, people around her would die.“

„Yeah. I told him to tell her that.“ He’d meant it, too. „So what?“

Drake grunted, still displeased with the maneuver. „So I built on that. She’s had no significant others in the last five years that I’ve been able to trace, but lately she’s been spending a lot of time with Detective Abe Reagan.“

Jacob scowled. „If Reagan’s guarding her, that’ll make her harder to corner again. Mayhew’s no dummy.“

„Which is why I didn’t want her attacked in her own home,“ Drake said angrily.

Knowing Drake was right just added to his frustration. „So what are you going to do about it?“ Jacob demanded. „I want that vigilante.“ He clenched his fists. „I want the man who beat my son to death and Mayhew knows who he is. She has to.“

„I really don’t think she does, Jacob. I think if she did, he’d be in jail.“

„I don’t want him in jail. I want him here.“ Jacob thumped his desk.

Drake’s brows lifted. „She’s spent time with Detective Reagan and his family.“

Jacob relaxed. Family always made for good leverage in any negotiation. „Good. I want an answer. I don’t care where it comes from.“

Drake’s grin was wolfish, stirring his own blood. „That ball’s in motion.“

Tuesday, February 24,

7:00 p.m.

Abe pulled into his parents’ driveway and shut off the motor, his hands shaking with a barely suppressed mixture of fear and fury. He looked over at Kristen who still peacefully slept in the passenger seat, her face slightly flushed, her chest rising and falling rhythmically. She’d been out like a light almost as soon as they’d pulled away from the station. She’d missed the trill of his cell phone, his muttered oaths in response to Aidan’s urgent summons. Then she’d missed the melodic chiming of her own phone. And again more epithets as he answered, listened to the mocking voice of the caller who refused to give his name.

His eyes flicked over the collection of cars in front of his parents’ house. Everyone was here. Sean and Ruth and Aidan and Annie. He and Kristen would simply add to the number that gathered in support.

She would blame herself. She would be wrong, but she’d blame herself nevertheless. He couldn’t put it off any longer. He shook her shoulder briskly. „Kristen, wake up.“

She turned in the seat, leaning into his arm, murmuring something unintelligible. She turned her face into his palm, so trustingly he felt his heart clench. When this was all over he was going to take her far away, to someplace where it would be just the two of them. Someplace where she could finally relax, take out those damn hairpins. Someplace where he could take her in his arms tenderly and teach her to unlock the mysteries of her own sensuality. Show her that she wouldn’t, couldn’t disappoint him. Ever.

„Kristen, honey, wake up.“

He watched her lashes quiver, then lift. Slowly she came awake, then lifted her chin with a jerk when she realized where they were. „You said you were taking me home.“

He closed his hand over the back of her neck and gently squeezed. „I will. First I have to see my folks.“ He hesitated and she sat up straighter in the seat.

„What’s happened?“ She studied his face in the darkness of the SUV’s cab, then sagged back against the seat, her expression defeated and for that alone he wanted to catch both Conti and their humble servant and make them pay. „Who?“

„My dad,“ he said unevenly and she closed her eyes. „He says he’s okay, but I didn’t want to take his word for it. Aidan says he’s pretty banged up, but…“

„Let me guess,“ she said bitterly. „Whoever did it wanted to know who ‘he’ is.“

He wouldn’t lie to her. „Yes.“

Wearily she rubbed her forehead. „I told you I shouldn’t come around your family. I shouldn’t be here right now. Go in and see your father. I’ll call a cab to take me home. Truman’s on tonight, I think. I’ll be fine.“

I’ll be fine. The words echoed in his head and something just snapped. He twisted, bringing his angry face within inches of her startled one. For a second they stared, then he took her mouth with a ferocity he immediately regretted. He was angry, but not with her. She was fragile and vulnerable enough without his making it worse. He pulled away, but her hands pulled him back, holding on almost desperately. She kissed him hard and long and when she finally let him go they were both breathing like spent athletes.

„You are not fine,“ he whispered against her lips. „You’re scared and so am I.“

„I’m sorry, Abe. I’m so sor – “

He cut off the apology with another hard kiss, gentling it after the initial searing contact. He adjusted the angle, seeking a closer fit, finding it, backing off only long enough to let them both catch their breath, then returning for more. He ended it without ending it, pressing kisses to the comer of her mouth, her temple. The hollow behind her ear and down her neck, forcing himself to remain gentle when her body shuddered.

„When this is over, I’m taking you far away,“ he murmured, the deep rumble of his voice shaking her down to her core. „We’ll lie on the beach and forget all about this.“

Don’t make promises, she wanted to say. They were here because someone had beaten his father. Because of me. That wasn’t something even the Reagans could easily ignore and she just didn’t think she could bear their reproach, no matter how much they deserved to feel it. Kristen turned her face into his hand and kissed his palm. „Go see your father,“ she said. „I’ll wait.“

„You’re not staying here by yourself. Come with me.“

It wasn’t a request, she knew. Just as she knew it would be foolish to tempt fate and stay in the car alone. Unprotected. So when he opened her car door, she slid down without a protest and walked, his strong arm around her shoulders.

From the laundry room she could smell Becca’s dinner cooking, but there was a forbidding quiet that was foreign to the Reagan household. Abe pushed open the door to the kitchen. Five pairs of eyes turned to look at them, all filled with rioting emotions, Becca’s with fear, Aidan’s with fury. Sean and Annie’s held disbelief. Ruth stood beside Kyle, holding a roll of gauze and she shook her head slightly. Kyle kept his face stubbornly averted and Kristen saw Abe swallow hard before approaching his father. His eyes slid closed and his throat worked as he struggled to keep his composure.

„How bad is it?“ she heard him murmur to Ruth.

„I’ve had worse,“ Kyle snapped, but his speech was slurred. „I’m a bloody pulp, but I can still hear and talk.“

„How?“ Abe asked simply.

Becca drew in a breath. „He was leaving the grocery store and a man – “

„I can tell it, Becca.“ Kyle struggled to sit up in the chair and Aidan was there to help him, but Kyle pulled away. „I can do it. I was leaving the store and a man stuck a gun in my kidney. Told me to walk quietly and took me behind the store.“

„How many were there?“ Abe asked.

„Four,“ Kyle answered and Kristen shuddered from her spot in the laundry room. „Told me to tell you to figure out who the vigilante was or they’d move on to the rest of the family.“

Abe looked around abruptly. „Where’s Rachel?“

Ruth put a steadying hand on his shoulder. „She’s in the bedroom with the kids.“

„Where is Kristen?“ Kyle asked. „You shouldn’t have left her alone.“

„I’m here,“ Kristen said quietly. „I’m fine.“

Kyle raised a bandaged hand. „Come here.“

On trembling legs Kristen complied. Whatever he had to say wouldn’t be nearly bad enough. One look at Kyle’s face made her trembles start all over again. Purple and black bruises covered his face and a patch of thick white hair had been shaved, a bandage in its place. Both hands were bandaged, his right more so than his left. She sank to her knees at his feet and stared up at him, blinking back tears. He’d sat with her all night, playing solitaire, keeping her company. Making her feel safe. And for his kindness he’d been beaten within an inch of his life. She opened her mouth and he made an impatient noise.

„If you say you’re sorry, I’ll be forced to kick your ass,“ Kyle said through swollen lips and a hysterical giggle bubbled up in her chest. Kristen forced it back and responded the only way she knew would preserve his dignity.

„I was going to ask how the other guys look,“ she lied dryly.

His blue eyes gleamed with appreciative humor. „Not as pretty as me,“ he said.

Standing behind him, Becca smiled tremulously. „You didn’t cause this, Kristen. You’re as much a victim as anyone else.“ Kyle nodded, then winced in discomfort.

„Is anything broken?“ Kristen asked him.

„A few ribs. My pride.“ Kyle grew very serious. „You will not tell them anything, Kristen. You have to promise me that.“

Kristen huffed in frustration. „I don’t know anything. If I did, the killer would be in prison. If I thought it would do any good, I’d call Conti and tell him I don’t know anything.“

„It won’t do any good,“ Abe said and she looked up at him. „They called your cell phone while you were asleep. Said they’d be getting in touch with you every day until you had an answer. They don’t care how you get it, they just want to know who the killer is.“

Every day. She controlled the feeling of helpless panic and made her voice steady. „Can you trace the call?“

Abe shrugged. „I already made the request, but I can almost guarantee we’re talking about a stolen or disposable cell phone.“

„Can’t you pick Conti up?“ Aidan asked. „Use any excuse. You know it’s him.“

Abe’s lips thinned. „It wouldn’t do any good, and he’d sue us for false arrest. He’s behind this, but he’s not doing this himself. Spinnelli’s already been warned by the brass not to pick him up until they have something that will stick.“

Kristen stood up. „Well then, let’s find out who’s doing it for him. My first guess would be the man who was with him the day he pushed Julia up against her car. His name is Drake Edwards. He’s Conti’s right-hand man. Rumored to be one sick bastard.“ She looked down at Kyle. „Did you see any distinguishing marks on any of the men who did this?“

Kyle’s swollen lips twisted in a grimace. „Only the ones I put on ‘ em myself. I didn’t see any of their faces, but one of the guys should have a really bad bruise on his left cheekbone.“

„I’ll call it in,“ Abe said.

Becca waved her hands. „Enough of this sitting around. Sean, you get plates down to set the table. Aidan, you can carve the roast. Annie, I need you to help me peel some more potatoes. I’ve got to stretch dinner for four more plus the children.“

Kristen took a step back. „Becca, I – “

Becca silenced her with another hand wave. „Hush, Kristen. You and Abe I planned for. It’s the rest of my brood that I wasn’t anticipating.“

Becca’s insistence was reflected in the faces of the other Reagans. They weren’t throwing her out. She felt the knots in her stomach slide free. She was still part of this amazing family. „Then let me peel some potatoes.“ She glanced at Annie. „If you don’t mind.“

With an encouraging smile, Annie handed her a knife and they got to work.

Tuesday, February 24,

7:00 p.m.

The sun had gone down and still he sat, thinking, wondering, remembering in the darkness of his kitchen. The picture of Leah was to his left, the stack of bullets to his right, and in the center of the table, the fishbowl, still filled with names. So much evil in the world. He was only one man whose time was drawing to a close. Three cards sat in front of the fishbowl. He didn’t need to turn on the light to be able to see their names. Their names were permanently etched in his memory. A judge, a defense lawyer and a serial rapist. He closed his eyes, remembering the look on Leah’s face the last time he’d seen her alive. So very, very alone. Because of the judge, the lawyer, and the rapist. They all deserved to die.

And they would. But he’d have to be careful. Once he killed the judge, they’d start to narrow it down. Once he killed the defense attorney, they’d figure it out. The rapist himself would suspect and run away. And he’d be left without his vengeance.

That could not happen. So how to kill them all so that the others didn’t suspect they were next? But he wanted them to suspect, just a little. He wanted the lawyer to hear the judge was dead and be afraid. He wanted the rapist to feel hunted, to feel terror as had his Leah.

He wanted each man to know why he was being killed.

And he wanted each one to feel a great deal of pain.

He sat there in the dark, running through various scenarios, finally returning to his original plan. He would hunt down each one like the dogs they were, disable them, then bring them here. He would hunt them quickly, efficiently. But once captive, he would kill each one slowly, until they begged for mercy.

The mercy they received would be equal to the mercy they showed Leah.

In other words, there would be none.

Tuesday, February 24,

10:00 p.m.

Kristen’s eyes widened when they pulled into her driveway. The cruiser was conspicuously absent. „What happened to Truman?“

„They needed to pull him back onto patrol. Half a dozen guys called in with the flu and Central was scrambling to fill their shifts. I told them it was okay.“

There was silence for a moment from the passenger seat. Then quietly she said, „Because you said you’d stay with me.“ They hadn’t discussed it until now. In his mind it had been a given, but he could practically see the wheels of indecision turning in her head and he understood. The other two nights he’d stayed had been special cases. Both times she’d been attacked. Last night, his own father had stayed, a respectable guard. But tonight was different. Just a man and a woman alone in her house. To say he hadn’t fantasized the possible outcomes would be a lie. One part of his brain was fantasizing at this very moment and he was grateful for the darkness that surrounded them. „I’ll sleep on your couch.“

She leaned back, turning only her head to look at him. „You would, wouldn’t you?“

„Yes,“ he replied without hesitation. „Until you decide otherwise, yes.“

One side of her mouth lifted. „So it’s up to me?“

He didn’t smile. „Totally.“

„Will you at least kiss me good night?“

He did smile at that. „Just don’t ask me to tuck you in. My principles are only so strong.“ Without giving her time to comment, he helped her down, then reached for the laptop bag she had in one hand and the Marshall Field’s shopping bag in the other. „What’s in the bag?“

„Magazines,“ she said over her shoulder. „Annie and I were talking about redoing my kitchen while we were peeling potatoes. She loaned me the magazines so I could get some ideas. I’m thinking about tearing out a wall and doubling the size. Maybe doing a French Provincial style. You can take a look at the pictures and tell me – “

She broke it off with a startled exclamation and a second later he saw why. The side of her house by her kitchen door was covered in black spray paint. Blade graffiti, six feet tall. A long horizontal line trailed toward the back of her house, a stylized arrowhead at its end.

„I’ll get a light. Stay here.“ He deposited the bags at her feet, got a heavy flashlight from the SUV, then carefully walked along the edge of her house, his weapon drawn, shining the light on the snow until he found what the gang had left behind. „Shit.“

„What?“ she said from behind him and he jumped.

„Dammit, Kristen, I told you to stay by the door.“ But it was too late. His admonition was interrupted by her sharp intake of breath.

„Oh, Abe, no.“

„Hold this and don’t move.“ He handed her the light and pulled out his cell phone and hit Mia’s speed dial. „Come to Kristen’s,“ he said. „We just found Aaron Jenkins.“