Deadly Connection

by Lenora Worth

  With a curt nod, he stood and searched around for any evidence of who might have attacked her. Then he sank down beside her as sirens shrilled in the distance. “You were headed to meet me, right?”

  She nodded. “I need—”

  “We’ll discuss that later,” he responded, getting up to wave to the EMTs and the patrol officer running toward them. “Right now, let’s get you and your partner some help.”

  Belle could only keep nodding as her adrenaline rush slowly began to sink down while the shakes took over. She wouldn’t let anyone see her falling apart but she did feel an overwhelming gratitude toward Emmett Gage.

  The man she’d come here to interrogate had just saved her life.

  * * *

  Emmett kept a close eye on the woman impatiently waiting for the paramedics to return from giving Gavin a report so she could sign off on no further treatment. She tapped her hands against the ambulance door and strained her neck to see what was holding them up.

  To keep her calm, he started talking. “I live in Dumbo, but I got home late. If I’d left a few minutes earlier—”

  “He might have shot you,” she said on a raw whisper. Then she looked up at him with eyes the color of dark rich wood. “Thank you for helping me with Justice. I need to make sure he’ll be all right.”

  Emmett glanced to where the dog had been moved off the path. “He should be fine. Might be off his game for a few days, though.”

  “I think we’ll both need to debrief,” she replied, checking on the still-unconscious K-9 again.

  When she moved to get up, Emmett held her back. “He’s sleeping. You need to sit here for a minute.”

  “I’m not good at sitting,” she admitted. Giving him a questioning glance, she asked, “So you know why I wanted to talk to you, right?”

  Emmett nodded. “I wasn’t late in an attempt to put off talking to you. I got held up with some red tape regarding a case we just closed.”

  “But you had good timing, anyway,” she said on a husky whisper, each word forced through pain.

  “Thankful for that,” he replied, taking his time in studying her. Her dark hair shimmered in the waning sunshine, but her eyes went dark each time she glanced at the still canine beside her.

  Belle fidgeted and glanced around again. “Why are the paramedics still talking to Sarge? I told them when they examined me earlier, I’m fine.”

  “You should go to the hospital.”

  “No. I can’t leave Justice.” She stood and leaned on the back of the ambulance, clearly not happy. “I can sign off. I don’t need anything. Is our veterinarian on her way?”

  “I heard your sergeant say she is,” Emmett told Belle, thinking the officer was single-minded about her partner. A good trait, but he wished he could reassure her about the canine. “Bringing her van and a special wheeled cot to get Justice back to her office in the K-9 training center. He’ll have his own dog-sized gurney.”

  He offered Belle some water and she took a tentative sip, then said, “I want to go straight there.”

  Emmett didn’t argue with her, but he figured the K-9 would sleep most of the night. “Then I’ll make sure you get there.” When he glanced up and saw an auburn-haired female wearing silver glasses approaching with a small rolling cot, Emmett touched Belle’s arm. “I think your vet is here.”

  Belle’s head shot up as she hurried toward the veterinarian, her anxious eyes showing fatigue and concern.

  While Belle talked to the doctor, Emmett thought back over the meeting they hadn’t had yet.

  Worry gnawed at his gut while he wondered about her. According to the request that had come into his office, she needed to verify the hit the NYPD had received that revealed his DNA matched the sample found on a watchband that had been collected as evidence at the cold-case murder site. Emmett could probably answer her question without a doubt. The DNA might be a match for his, but twenty years ago, he’d been twelve years old, living in South Brooklyn with his parents and grandparents, all of whom were dead now.

  The Brooklyn K-9 Unit needed information on the unknown relative he’d matched and since he only had one living relative who could have possibly been in the area, he was pretty sure he knew who they were looking for.

  Randall Gage. But he couldn’t picture his dad’s cousin Randall as a murderer. Always in trouble and always with one foot in the fire, yes. But capable of murder? What if Randall was? How would Emmett handle that?

  Emmett wanted to get to the bottom of this and fast.

  But first he needed to convince Belle Montera that she should go home and rest. Or go somewhere close. His place wasn’t far from here. Taking her there, however, might turn out to be more difficult than tracking the fugitive he’d been chasing over the last two days. She’d balk at that suggestion.

  From the way Belle was questioning the calm, patient veterinarian, he had a feeling she’d rather be with her partner right now than find out any facts from Emmett. The woman had been almost choked to death and her partner had been tranquilized. She was still in shock and worried about her K-9.

  “Let me help, Dr. Mazelli,” he said when the tiny woman tried to lift the dog. Justice had to weigh at least eighty pounds.

  “Thank you,” Dr. Mazelli said. “Belle should go home. Based on whatever was in that dart, Justice should wake up in an hour or so but he’ll be too groggy to notice anything, so it’s best if he has some quiet time. He should be fine tomorrow, but we’ll keep him off duty for a couple of days to be sure.”

  “You might want to convince Officer Montera of that,” Emmett replied. “She’s insisting she wants to stay the night with him.”

  After they’d lifted Justice up onto the cart, the doctor went over to where Belle stood talking to Sergeant Sutherland.

  The vet touched the officer’s arm and told her in a gentle tone that the best thing she could do was get some rest. “Justice will be fine with me. I won’t leave him alone, Belle, I promise. You need to take care of yourself.”

  “Do as she suggests,” Gavin told Belle as Emmett came hurrying up to them. “That’s an order.”

  “But, sir—”

  “Rest, Belle,” Gavin added.

  “I’ll get her home,” Emmett said, daring anyone to argue with him. He and Gavin had been officially introduced earlier so he hoped he wasn’t overstepping.

  The tough-looking sergeant stared him down, then said in a gruff voice, “Good idea. You two have some unfinished business, anyway. And when you’re done, I’d like a full report.”

  Sutherland didn’t give Belle time to argue. He marched off to talk to the other K-9 officers moving across the park. When her unit had heard the call coming through, they’d all come to assist. Dedicated and tenacious.

  Both she and Emmett had given their statements, but Emmett had noticed Sergeant Sutherland sizing him up earlier. Impressed that her commander hadn’t taken over the task he’d sent her to do, Emmett decided Gavin Sutherland was tough but fair. He’d want answers, but he’d let Belle do her job to get them.

  Belle turned to the dog sleeping on the cart. “I’ll walk with you back to your van,” she said to Dr. Mazelli before glancing over at Emmett. “I don’t like this but an order’s an order.”

  “I’ll come with you,” Emmett offered. “After you see Justice off, we can go somewhere and have our talk if you feel up to it.”

  Once they had the dog settled in the back of the big van, Belle rubbed Justice’s fur and patted him on his head, her eyes misty. “I’ll check on you soon, Justice. I promise.”

  “I’ll call in about an hour or so,” the doc said. “I’ll give you a full report.”

  “Gracias,” Belle replied, reminding Emmett of her Hispanic heritage. Then she turned back to Emmett. “I live in Fort Greene, but I can take a train home.”

  The rain came then, fat cold drops that would soon
turn into a downpour. They took cover under the trees.

  “My place is close by,” he said, glancing at the dark sky. “We can talk in private there and...I can keep an eye on you. I’ll give you a ride home later.”

  “I don’t think so,” she said on a huff of breath, exhaustion tugging at her. “But the sooner we get this over with, the sooner I can go and see Justice. If your place will get me out of this rain, I’ll go. But you don’t have to worry about taking me home. I’ll spend the night at the station so I can be near my partner.”

  Emmett decided not to argue with Belle Montera.

  But he was curious about more than the DNA match the K-9 team had discovered.

  Now, he also wanted to know more about this woman and why someone would want to strangle her to death.

  TWO

  Why had she allowed Emmett to bring her to his apartment? Belle didn’t know this man, but she did believe she could trust him. He had a stellar reputation as a high-ranking deputy marshal who served in SOG—the Special Operations Group, a tactical unit, which pretty much gave him carte blanche to do what needed to be done in any situation. He’d certainly done just that tonight. All of that aside, she’d rather be sitting with Justice. But Sarge had reminded her they needed information regarding the DNA match.

  “I’ll make sure you get back to the station to check on Justice,” Emmett said after giving her a towel to dry off. The drizzle outside hadn’t soaked them too much. “This was the closest place to talk in private.”

  He moved around the sparse kitchen, banging some pots and pans before he came over to hand her a glass of sparkling water and two pain pills. “Take these. I’m warming up some soup.”

  “I don’t need soup,” she said, exhaustion overtaking her. “I need information.”

  “Okay, then.” Grabbing a soda from the refrigerator, he came back into the den of the well-appointed apartment he’d told her he shared with a lawyer and a doctor. He’d explained on the quick walk over that he and his roommates never saw each other much so they wouldn’t be interrupted here.

  “Before I answer your questions, do you know why anyone would want to kill you?”

  Shaking her head, Belle took a breath, swallowed the pills and drank the water. “No. I mean I’ve collared a lot of people, but other than shouting at me on the way to the slammer, no one has ever threatened me before. This guy said I’d pay for what I’ve done.” Shrugging, she pushed at her falling hair and tried to readjust her ponytail. “That could be anyone that I’ve helped put away.”

  The man sitting across from her studied her for a moment. “So you didn’t recognize your attacker?”

  “No,” she said, a shiver moving down her spine. “He had on dark glasses and a big black hat. His face was full and puffy and he was heavyset. Like a weight lifter, maybe. But he wore a chunky ring—a signet ring. Gold. I remember the gold flashing in my face. Gold etched in black.”

  Emmett moved closer. “Maybe you can describe both the face and the ring to your forensic artist and then you can run the sketch through the system.”

  “I’ll do that first thing tomorrow,” she said, her throat protesting with every word. “Right now, I need to verify the DNA evidence found from a cold-case murder site twenty-years ago when Eddie and Anna McGregor were murdered. You’re a match to that DNA evidence, as you know. Can you tell me anything more? Are you familiar with this case?”

  Emmett’s eyebrows went up. “No, I wasn’t familiar with the case, but I did look it up once I was informed that I was a match for the DNA. Am I a suspect?”

  “No. We did a thorough background check on you. You were a preteen when the first murder happened, and you lived in another neighborhood. You were the closest match we could find on the public genealogy search site when we reopened the cold case recently. We pulled up this case when we had a similar case a couple of months ago. Double homicide and a child at home at the time. The assailant wore a clown mask with blue hair and gave the child a stuffed toy in a bag.”

  Filling him in on how twenty years ago Eddie and Anna McGregor were murdered in Bay Ridge, Brooklyn, she said, “Now, we have Alex and Debra Emery shot to death in their home two months ago. Same MO but different neighborhood than the first killings.”

  “And a child left at the scene?”

  “Yes, unharmed but given a stuffed animal in a bag.”

  Emmett’s eyebrows lifted. “And now I’m older and I live close by? So I could be considered a suspect in these new murders?”

  “Relax, you’ve been cleared. You were out chasing criminals in the Village on the night of the current murders. We have the exact time and location of your whereabouts.”

  He let out a sigh of relief. “Of course you would. But someone who’s related to me might be involved in both?”

  She took a sip of the sparkling water Emmett had given her, the fizz soothing on her throat. “Yes, according to the worn leather watchband found at the cold-case crime scene. It’s been tested for a match over the years but no hits. Until now. A relative of yours.”

  “What happened to the child in the first case?”

  “The McGregors had two children, Penelope and Bradley, who were adopted by the lead detective on the case and his wife. Penelope was found at the scene, but outside of the house. She was holding a stuffed animal. A monkey covered in plastic that she said the bad man gave her.”

  Emmett shut his eyes for a moment. Like her, he’d seen the worst of humanity.

  “Incidentally, both siblings work in our department now—Penelope, who goes by Penny, is a front-desk receptionist. Bradley is a K-9 detective and works with me in Emergency Services. However, Bradley was a teen when his parents were murdered and also a suspect because of some altercations that took place between his parents and him, but he was cleared. That stigma has stayed with him, though. So this new case—with either the same killer or a possible copycat—hits close to home for our unit.”

  “I don’t remember the original case,” he admitted. “And I’ve been too tied up recently in this undercover sting to even watch the news. But this does sound suspicious on the part of the second murder, especially since you work with the siblings involved in the first case. So you’re trying to find a connection?”

  “We’re trying to find out who was at the scene of the first murder and then we’ll see if it ties to the current case, though we have even less evidence to go on from the Emery site.”

  Emmett rubbed a hand down his face, fatigue coloring his expression. “I can see why this would be a priority for your unit.”

  “It’s been hard on Bradley and Penny. Being at the front desk, she hears everything. It’s traumatizing for her.”

  “I guess it would be terrible for both of them to relive that kind of trauma,” Emmett said. “My gut’s telling me this can’t be good for whoever this relative is, but I will tell the truth if I can pinpoint anyone for you.”

  “Tell me about your relatives,” she said.

  He glanced out the wide windows. The bright lights of the surrounding buildings gave them a great view of the skyline and the Brooklyn Bridge off in the distance. Belle searched his face, thinking he looked honest, but then, people could hide a lot behind a calm demeanor and a handsome face. She knew that firsthand. But she wasn’t here to accuse him of withholding information—yet. She had to find out about his family tree so he needed to be honest with her.

  Finally, he turned back to her, his stormy eyes pinning her to the comfortable chair by the window. “I only have one close living relative who could be nearby, my father’s cousin who’s in his sixties now. His grandfather and my mine were brothers. He grew up in Brooklyn, but I have no idea where he is now. Most of our distant relatives are scattered all over the country. That leaves him. But Randall couldn’t be a killer.”

  She let that declaration slide because he’d inadvertently given her a name. �
�Are you two on good terms?”

  “Not really. My dad knew him better since they were closer in age. I saw him every now and then at family gatherings. I think I remember him at the funeral when his grandfather died ten years ago. He’s a lot older than me and he stays in and out of trouble and can’t seem to get a break in life. I tried to keep up with him, but Randall is a loner.”

  “Do you have his last known address?”

  “No. Last I heard he was living in Pennsylvania in a rural area. He’s a recluse and likes living off the grid. He doesn’t trust the law or the government, according to what my dad told me.”

  Shaking his head, he looked at Belle. “Kind of ironic that you got a hit since Randall would balk at being on a family tree. My mom loved genealogy stuff, though. She found most of her side of the family and had just started on my dad’s side but...she suffered a fatal stroke and never recovered. She only lasted a week before she died.”

  Belle lowered her head and lifted her eyes to him. “I’m so sorry, Emmett. How long ago was that?”

  “Couple of years,” he said, his tone flat. “My dad passed away five years ago from a heart attack. He’d only been retired a year or so.”

  “That’s tough,” Belle said. “Tell me more about your mom’s research, if you feel okay about doing that right now. It might help us.”

  He gave her a slight smile. “She’d be willing to help, I know. She tried to load in every relative she could find—just their names since the site is public. But some of them wanted to send in their information and DNA, too. She was big into that kind of stuff—a hobby of sorts after she retired from working in a Brooklyn retail store for over twenty years.” Nodding toward another room, he said, “I have all her findings in a file somewhere in my closet. I wanted to pick up where she left off but can’t seem to find the time.”

  Belle believed him. “So your DNA is in the database because of her efforts?”

  He nodded. “My mom had joined up with some of our long-lost relatives to fill in the family tree. I don’t know how far she got but I can search her handwritten notes and her computer files. Like I said, most of our living relatives are scattered all over the country.”