Brad tugged a chair close to her and sat down. “For the moment. How you feeling?”
She ran a hand through the long strands of her hair before pushing it over her shoulder. “I’ve been better, actually. If this guy’s trying to get under my skin, he has marvelous skills.”
The collected façade of the reporter had slipped away, leaving a vulnerable woman in its place. Brad’s protective instincts kicked into full gear. “Do you have someone you can stay with? It’s not a good idea for you to be alone right now.”
Hazel eyes zoomed in on his face. “Why? You don’t intend to let him out, do you?”
Brad smiled. A peek of a sense of humor. Good sign. “Not hardly, but Ramsey’s got someone or several someones working for him, and until we know how far he wants his employees to go, you shouldn’t be alone.”
Kate nibbled her lower lip again. “I don’t want to involve my parents in this. They don’t like what I do anyway, and my dad will just want to shoot him.”
“Can’t say that I blame him.” Brad surprised himself by covering one of her hands with his. She didn’t pull away, which surprised him even more. “How about a friend?”
Her breath came out in a short huff. “There’s no one I’d want to throw into this ring of madness. If Ramsey has something planned for me, I don’t want to put anyone else at risk.”
“You can stay with me.” The words were out before Brad could stop them. He tried to tell himself it was because he used to be a cop, that the urge to protect was natural. But he’d never offered any other potential victim sanctuary at his house. So why Kate?
Her gaze flickered to the door before coming back to his face. The nibbling intensified. “Why would you want to get involved in this?”
“Ramsey’s my prisoner. I’m already involved. Besides that, I won’t be able to sleep unless I know you’re safe.”
She slipped her hand out from under his, ran her palm down the wooden arm of the chair. “We don’t even know each other.” She hesitated, then added, “I’m not even sure we like each other.”
“I think we do. We just got off on the wrong foot.” He gave her his most charming smile.
Kate crossed her legs, then uncrossed them. “I don’t want Ramsey to run me out of my home. I appreciate your willingness to help but I’m not ready to go anywhere just yet.”
“I kind of figured you for the stubborn sort.” He made a mental note to call O’Hara again. Kate might not think she was in all that much danger but Brad wasn’t willing to trust her beliefs, not when it came to John Ramsey.
Kate stood, her hands shaking as she reached for a purse that wasn’t there. She blinked, momentarily confused. Then her gaze cleared. “I should get back to work. I just need to collect my things from your office.”
Brad followed her out into the hallway, pulled the door shut behind them. “If you won’t leave your house, will you at least call me when you do get home this evening?”
She turned her head toward him and smiled. “Something tells me you shouldn’t have given up your badge, Detective.”
His steps faltered. If he’d had a choice… That type of thinking didn’t lead anywhere positive. He’d done what he’d had to do and wouldn’t regret the decisions he’d made in the past. “Some of us know when it’s time to hang up the shield. So about that call…?”
A smile passed over her face. “Yes, I’ll call you.”
“Good.” He handed her a card from the front pocket of his shirt. “Use the cell. I keep it with me.” Once she’d collected her things, he escorted her to the front of the building, leaving her with the warning, “If I don’t hear from you by nine, you’ll be hearing from me.”
Her nerves much calmer after the brief conversation with Brad, Kate headed to her car. The late-morning sunshine had already heated the inside of her Lexus to the boiling point and she quickly started the engine and turned the air conditioner on full blast.
An old Whitney Houston tune blared from her cell phone just as she fastened her seat belt. She reserved the ring tone for unknown callers, and the blocked number on her caller ID made her hesitant to answer.
“Oh stop it, Kate. The guy doesn’t get phone calls.” Sliding her cell between her shoulder and ear, she answered. “Kate Elliott.”
“Ms. Elliott, this is Angelo Salli. I’m John Ramsey’s attorney. We need to talk. Off the record. Can you meet me at the port?”
“Not a usual place for a meeting. How about Starbucks?” Kate backed the car out of the parking spot.
“No. No people. This has to be private.”
The hairs on the back of Kate’s neck stood on end. The last thing she wanted to do after the day she’d had so far was meet with a man she didn’t know in a place as big as the Port of Charleston. Though it was big, visitors were restricted so there wouldn’t be much traffic.
“Miss Elliott?” Salli’s voice held a sense of urgency. “Please. It’s important.”
“So is my safety. How about we compromise and I meet you at The Battery? Plenty of opportunities for seclusion.” But still within screaming distance of the locals.
A short blast of air came across the speaker. “Fine. The Battery. Can you make it by eleven-thirty?”
“I’m already on my way. Tell me what to look for.”
“I’ll be on one of the benches by the cannons. In this heat not too many people will be sitting, I’m sure.” A distinct click signaled the end of the conversation.
More intrigued now than nervous, Kate directed her car toward the interstate before placing a quick call to Aaron to let him know what was going on. She left out the part about the second note she’d gotten. Provided with that information, he’d have armed guards surrounding her house by the time she got home.
A rush of nerves had her pushing the button to slide the driver’s side window down even with the heat. She needed fresh air to clear her head. So much had happened so quickly, and if everything she’d read about Ramsey was true, he was only going to up the stakes.
What if he really did have someone working for him on the outside? She had no way of knowing the type of instructions he’d given the guy. Or maybe Ramsey had a fan who didn’t need to be taught.
And what if…? She shook her head. No. That was ludicrous. Still… She took the exit toward downtown Charleston, her palms damp against the leather steering wheel. During her short conversation with Salli, she hadn’t considered that he might be the accomplice.
“What kind of trouble are you walking into, Kate?” Before she could stop herself, she dug Brad’s card out of her purse, keeping one eye on the road. It couldn’t hurt to at least let someone know where she was…in case she didn’t return.
Ramsey was eating his lunch so calmly Brad had the urge to unlock the cell and smack the tray off the foot of the cot. With no conscience, the man didn’t care how his actions affected people. He only wanted the thrill of the scare.
Brad stopped in front of his cell, waited for Ramsey to look up. “I know about the game you’re playing with Kate Elliott.”
Ramsey took his time dabbing a blob of ketchup from the corner of his mouth. “Really? I wasn’t aware I was playing a game.”
“You have someone working for you, someone dumb enough to believe he isn’t expendable. I don’t have a doubt you’ll manage to have him eliminated once you’re through torturing Kate.”
“Who said I was torturing her? Did it ever occur to you, Warden, that she likes the attention?”
“Yeah, just what every woman craves—devotion from a serial killer.” Brad took a few steps closer, wanting Ramsey to get a good look at his face. The sorry excuse for a human being anticipated the moment of fear, the terrified expression on a woman’s face. But he wouldn’t find a victim here.
“I thought you might like to know that I’m going to turn over every rock in this city until I find your lowlife rent-a-thug, and when I do he’ll take up one of the cells here in my prison. Don’t think for one second you can beat me at any game.�
� He turned to walk away but Ramsey called out to him. Brad didn’t turn, just waited for the killer’s next words.
“Don’t you want to know if your sister suffered? Isn’t that what you’ve been wanting to ask me since I arrived here? I know you had a hand in my transfer to this prison. And it’s the reason you gave up your career, isn’t it?”
Brad forced himself to keep walking, though the questions pierced through his spine like poisonous arrows, burying deep into his heart. He didn’t need to ask the bastard the question. Ramsey wouldn’t have killed Hannah without making her suffer. It was the reason he killed.
He closed his eyes against the waves of pain and nausea welling up within him. Just when putting one foot in front of the other got a little easier, Ramsey had to twist the knife in his heart a little deeper.
Back in his office, he checked the calendar. Only four more days until Ramsey’s execution, and justice would be served for his sister. When she’d died, he’d lost so much more than a younger sibling. He’d lost the last remaining connection to his family.
Ramsey had taken that away, and nothing would ever return Hannah to him, give her back the life that had been brutally stripped from her, but he owed it to her to make sure Ramsey didn’t live past Saturday.
And he’d do his job without hesitation.
“What in the hell are you trying to do?” David met him in the corridor outside the death row dorm. “Lose your job?”
Brad’s hackles rose. “What are you talking about?”
“You’re letting this get personal.” David fell into step beside him. “And all someone has to do is put a bug in the state superintendent’s ear and you’ll be up for transfer before you can spit.”
“I’m not worried about the superintendent. And this happened in my prison. That makes it kind of personal.”
“That’s not why you’re doing this and you and I both know it. My advice would be to stay out of it, let the cops handle it.” David held up one hand. “And before you say you used to be a cop, I know that too. But this isn’t your case, and that reporter isn’t your responsibility. Don’t let Ramsey get to you like this.”
Brad gave a short bark of laughter that held no humor. “He got to me seven years ago when he killed my sister. I think it’s a little late to not let him get under my skin.”
David dragged a hand through his hair, cursed and shook his head. “Well, you’re only going to make matters worse by challenging the guy like that. Ramsey’s got nothing to lose.”
“You think I don’t know that?” Brad targeted his friend with a glare. “Every night I go to sleep knowing Hannah is dead and that bastard is still sitting here being fed and housed at the state’s expense. Every morning I wake up knowing I’ll never see my sister again while Ramsey is doing push-ups in his cell. And each time I walk through those front doors, I have to fight an urge to put a bullet through his brain. Do you know what stops me?”
He didn’t pause to give the deputy warden time to respond. “I know Ramsey has nothing to lose. Dying at my hand would only take away what is left of my life. So don’t lecture me on the guy, David. Whether I want to be or not, I’m an expert on John Ramsey.”
Frustration clawed at her insides. Three tries to reach Brad without success. If he did keep his cell phone on him, he wasn’t quick about answering it. She looked up from the parking spot she’d nabbed next to a meter, a rarity at this time of the day in downtown Charleston.
Salli had been right. Few people milled around in the park, though the concrete walk overlooking the Atlantic Ocean teemed with activity. She surveyed the area and spotted a round man wearing a dark suit seated on a black, cast-iron bench. That had to be him.
“Oh come on, Kate. You’ve been meeting with sources for years without Brad Jericho’s input.”
The reminder helped and, drawing in a deep breath, she stepped out into the unknown. She’d barely had time to cross the green grass before Angelo Salli stood and stuck out a palm covered in a fine sheen of moisture. “Ms. Elliott, thank you for meeting me.”
Kate took it reluctantly, then surreptitiously wiped her hand down the side of her black slacks. “What can I do for you?” With an expert flick of her finger, she switched the mini-recorder inside her purse on without Salli’s awareness.
The breeze, a little cooler coming in off the Atlantic, lifted her hair and swished it across her face, making her wish she’d tied it back for the day. As she pulled the strands away, she watched the attorney’s shaking hands.
“I think you should back off any story involving my client, and I can’t tell you any more than that. I’m treading a thin line here. The state bar frowns heavily on breaching a client’s confidentiality.” The wind ruffled the three strands of hair on the top of his head.
“You haven’t really told me anything yet, just given me advice I didn’t ask for and that I doubt I’m going to take. And the warning is something you could have given me over the phone, saving us both a trip. Although I’m not up on the all the logistics when it comes to a lawyer’s ethical requirements, I’m sure you could be a bit more specific without breaching confidentiality.”
His cheeks puffed out with a burst of air. “You got your interview with him. Let that be enough. Just do yourself a favor and take my advice.” He jammed his hands into the pockets of his slacks and looked around as though afraid of being overheard.
“Not unless you give me a good reason. Oh wait. Would it have anything to do with the flowers delivered to my house this morning or the note I received while I was at the prison?”
The blood drained from Salli’s face. “Flowers? Note? My client couldn’t possibly have had anything to do with that.”
“No? Then why do you look like someone’s got a gun pointed at your face?”
He draped his arms across the muzzle of the cannon and directed his gaze toward the water where several boats bobbed in unison. “Do you ever wish you could revisit your life? I mean, go back a few years and rethink what you chose to do with it?” Without giving her time to respond, he plowed on. “God knows I do. Every day. Every lousy time I have to go behind those prison walls and meet with my clients.”
Though she felt a pang of sympathy for the man’s unhappiness, Kate didn’t waste time offering any condolences. Salli had wanted to meet her, and she didn’t for one second believe it was only to tell her not to see his client.
“Mr. Salli, I’m aware that whatever was said between you and your client is confidential. However, if you have reason to believe a crime is going to be committed, you have a duty to report it. Is that why you wanted to see me? Has there been some type of threat against me?”
The lawyer shook off the wave of melancholy and took a step back. “I’ve said all I can say. Too much, in fact. Just do yourself a favor and let this one go. You won’t win any Pulitzers, and John Ramsey’s story isn’t one you really want to tell.”
Kate considered the veiled warning before pushing a little more. “He’s got people on the outside, doesn’t he? People he can control?”
Salli went a little bit paler. “Digging deeper is only going to bury you, Miss Elliott. I can’t say whether or not I believe in my client’s guilt, but I can tell you whatever he didn’t do on the outside of that cell, he’s probably done on the inside of it. If he is a killer, I’ve yet to see one with a conscience. At any rate, I’ve done all I can do. Either take my advice or don’t. You can’t say I didn’t warn you.” He gave her one last hard look and walked away on expensive loafers that squeaked.
Kate didn’t immediately return to her car. Instead she wandered over to a nearby hot dog vendor, helped herself to a foot-long and settled down on a bench while replaying the tape. Salli didn’t just sound scared, he sounded resigned, as though he had direct knowledge something was going to happen.
Maybe he did, but she wasn’t backing down. If Ramsey wanted to come after her from inside his cell, she was going to find out why. Of all the reporters he could have targeted, there had to be a
reason he’d chosen her. It might not be a reason she wanted to know, but now that Ramsey had already dropped the bait, there wasn’t any way she could walk away from it.
Standing, she curled the hot dog wrapped in one hand and lobbed it into a wrought-iron garbage container. Feeling a little more in control, she breathed in the smell of fresh ocean air on her way back to her car.
She had one hand on the handle when her nerves went into high alert. Someone was watching her. Spinning around for a better look, she pressed one hand over her heart to calm the rapid beats.
No one was behind her, and from what she could see, no one was watching her. Was she imagining things now?
Shaking off the sense of unease clinging to her, she slid behind the wheel of her car and started the engine. A check in the rearview mirror made her take a second look. Had someone been standing there? She thought she’d seen a flash of something, like clothing maybe. But if someone had been behind her car, there was no one there now.
No one could move that quickly, so it had to be her imagination. Seeing things that weren’t there was a classic sign of paranoia. She summoned up a laugh at herself and rolled her shoulders backward to ease the tension.
Work. She needed to go to work and forget about John Ramsey and his mind games. As far as she knew, he could only be toying with her, using her to have what would be his last bit of fun before his execution.
The thought brought a measure of relief. After Saturday, John Ramsey wouldn’t be able to toy with anyone.
Chapter Five
Brad left the prison late, stepping outside just as the clouds opened up. Rain beat against him as he ran to his truck. Once inside, he shook off as much dampness as he could and stuck the key in the ignition. Shivering a little from the wetness, he turned his cell phone on. The battery had dipped into the yellow zone, making him think twice about checking for messages. Damn. Where was the charger?
He shifted the phone to his shoulder to begin his search. The dying battery beeped in his ear. “Yeah, yeah. I hear you.” The rocking tunes of a Nickelback song drowned out the alert, and he quieted the ringtone by answering the call.
Now You See Me Page 4
