24/7

by Joanna Wayne

  “Did you confront your husband about his relationship with Hal?”

  “No.”

  “Why not?

  “Because we were a couple in name only. I planned to get a divorce right after we returned to California. That is what you want to hear, isn’t it, that I was planning to divorce Nick?”

  He took a deep breath and exhaled sharply. “I know it sounds as if I’m harassing you. I’m not. I just need to know everything you know about your husband’s murder.”

  “If I knew who killed Nick, don’t you think I’d have said when some lunatic with an AK-47 fired on the car I was in with my daughter?”

  “Unless you thought you had good reason to keep quiet.”

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  “Was Nick blackmailing someone or involved in something illegal?”

  “Not that I know of.”

  “What about Hal?”

  “How would I know? He’s Nick’s friend, not mine. We seldom speak except to say hello in passing.”

  “Then how do you explain this note that was found in Hayden’s hotel room?” Carter took a plastic-encased slip of paper from a folder on his desk and handed it to her.

  Her name was on the top with the names of two men beneath it. She studied the note for only a few seconds before handing it back to him. “I don’t know those men, and I have no idea why my name is linked with theirs.”

  “Those are both violent criminals who’ve either served time or gotten off on one technicality or another.” Carter clasped his hands together and leaned in close as if the two of them were involved in a conspiracy.

  “Tell me what you know, Kelly. If you’re innocent, and I believe you are, then tell me so that we can stop a killer before he comes after you again.”

  She threw up her hands in exasperation. “I didn’t write the names. I don’t know those men. I don’t know why Hal had that note in his room. And I don’t know who killed Nick.”

  “Jack Sanders may think he’s invincible, Kelly, but he’s not. You need the police. Don’t play around with yours and your daughter’s lives.”

  “I don’t know anything to tell you. How many times do I have to say that before you believe me?”

  Carter glared at her and cracked his knuckles. “I could arrest you as a suspect, you know. The betrayed wife getting even. It’s classic motivation.”

  “You could, but we both know I didn’t do it. I have an alibi and I was shot at the next day by a man wielding an assault rifle. So arresting me would only make you look desperate for a suspect.”

  He placed his outstretched hands flat on his desk. “And I’m not that desperate—yet. You can go, but if you want to drop Jack Sanders I can probably make a case for getting you around-the-clock police protection.”

  “Thanks, but I’ll stick with Jack.” He might not be invincible, but he makes great pancakes.

  Sunday, 12:59 p.m.

  In PPS Car

  JACK’S CELL PHONE rang just as he and Kelly stepped into the car. He was eager to hear what Kelly had to say, but the call was from the medical examiner, and he really needed to hear the results of Nick’s autopsy.

  “Excuse me, Kelly, I have to take this one.”

  “Do you have results for me?”

  “Three bullet wounds. Gilly Carter was here when I pulled them out. He said they were from a nine millimeter handgun, if that helps.”

  “That helps. Thanks. Did it appear the bullets were fired at close range?”

  “Extremely close, and at an upward angle.”

  Then Nick might have been struggling to take the gun from the shooter. If he hadn’t been drunk and high, he might have saved his own life.

  “Did it look as if he’d been in a fight?”

  “No marks on the face to indicate that. No scratches above or below the wounds. No trauma to the head. Those are the high points. Does Mrs. Warner want me to fax the full report to her at PPS?”

  “Yeah, do you need her to tell you that? She’s sitting right here.”

  “No, she put your name down on the release form at the hospital. I’ll send it on over. Give her my condolences.”

  “Will do.”

  Kelly didn’t wait for him to ask how her meeting with Carter went before blurting out two names.

  “Devon Degrazia and Billy Sheffield. Have you heard of them?”

  Unfortunately, he had. Knew them by those names and the variety of aliases they went by.

  Degrazia had actually been a paid assassin for the CIA, back in the days when they had that sort of thing. Now he was in business for himself. He’d only done time for one murder and had gotten out on a technicality after spending six months in jail. He could afford the best defense attorneys.

  Sheffield was small-time, in and out of jail all his life on everything from simple assault to armed robbery convictions. He was out of jail now and back on the streets in Denver. Either one would kill for pay if the situation and money were right.

  Jack sped to the corner and turned just as the light turned red, then sped to the next corner and turned again, a move to lose anyone who might be tailing them.

  “So have you heard of them or not?”

  “I’ve heard of them. Why did Carter ask you about them?”

  “My name was on a list along with their names.”

  Jack tried but only managed to bite back half of the curses that flew to his mouth. “Where did Carter get the list?”

  “He found it in Hal Hayden’s hotel room. Carter told me the men were local criminals. It’s obvious that Hal hired one of them to kill Nick and me.”

  “What’s his motive?”

  “Maybe Nick was breaking up with him.”

  “Did you see signs of that?”

  “No, but I wasn’t paying attention to the two of them. Mitchell would probably know.”

  “If they were breaking up, Hal might have killed Nick, but why you?” Jack asked. “And it was your name, not Nick’s on the list.”

  “True, but jealousy and greed are the two most common motives for murder,” Kelly said. “That was in my script once. Maybe Hal killed for greed. I know he liked the lifestyle Nick offered and he wasn’t talented enough to ever reach that level of stardom on his own.”

  “And with Nick dead, he lost all of that. He definitely has no legal claim on Nick’s estate.”

  “So what do I do, just sit around and wait for one of the guys on the list or some other piece of scum to try to kill me again? The next guy with a gun could be anywhere. In that car, in that one, in that one.” Kelly pointed at every vehicle in sight.

  On a scale of one to ten, her frustration level was probably kicking around at twenty and his wasn’t far behind. The list had been found in Hal’s hotel room, so it made sense that either Hal was behind it, or someone had set him up. But why?

  Kelly turned and put a hand on his arm, all of a sudden excited again. “That must have been the list Nick was talking about in the hospital. He found out Hal was going to have me killed and when he confronted him with it, Hal shot him. That’s it. Case solved.”

  “And Hal’s motive for having you killed?”

  “Do you have to be so hung up on that?”

  “I just think there has to be more to this than we’ve ferreted out so far.”

  “Maybe it’s not as complicated as the cases you usually investigate. My theory is the perfect explanation. And the best part of it is that if Hal were paying someone to kill me and now he’s dead, the hit man won’t bother to finish the job. I mean, what would be the point of committing the crime since the hit man either already has the money or won’t be getting it?”

  “That’s a very neat package you’ve wrapped up.”

  “It makes sense, Jack.”

  Except that there was still no motive. He’d love to stop in town and smoke out one of his informants, but he couldn’t risk taking Kelly into those areas. And as nicely wrapped as Kelly’s package was, he wasn’t at all sure it didn’t
have an explosive hidden under the shiny paper.

  He checked the traffic behind him before steering the car into a U-turn. He couldn’t take Kelly to smoke out the informants, so he’d have to settle for the next best thing.

  Chapter Ten

  Sunday, 1:27 p.m.

  Downtown Denver Hotel

  Kelly had stopped being amazed at anything Jack and PPS were capable of, but it had been fascinating watching from a few doors down as Jack flashed his credentials and persuaded the young Asian woman cleaning room 1018 to open the door to room 1014.

  “The yellow police tape you just ripped from the wall said Do Not Enter By Order Of Police,” she said, once the cleaning woman had walked away.

  “That’s why I took it down. I’d never break the law.”

  “What did you say to the woman to get her to leave her cleaning cart and come open the door for you?”

  “That I’m here to search the room of the recently deceased guest. I could have spouted the Pledge of Allegiance and gotten the same response. I don’t think she understood a word of English. It was my PPS ID and my .38 that convinced her I was official.”

  “Or that you’re a thief. She may be calling security right now.”

  “She’s vacuuming. Just relax and keep thinking those positive thoughts you were having in the car.”

  But it was hard to stay positive as she stepped into the room and got a glimpse of the balcony where Hal had plunged to his death. Standing in this room and looking out, she could almost feel death.

  Hal’s death, Nick’s death.

  She swallowed hard and glanced around the room. It was in shambles. The drawers of the heavy wooden chest hung askew and the contents looked as if they’d been dumped and then stuffed in again with no attempt at order. A pair of boxer shorts dangled from one, a woolen muffler from another.

  Kelly stepped over the pile of dirty sheets that had been left on the floor. “How can they say there’s no sign of foul play when the room’s trashed like this?”

  “This is the work of Carter’s boys. That’s how they found the list with your name on it.”

  Hers and a couple of probable hit men. “What are we looking for?”

  “I don’t know,” Jack admitted, “but I’ll recognize it when I see it. We need to move quickly. I figured we’d have to fight our way through reporters, but I guess they just took their pictures and left. But anyone could show up at any time.”

  “From the looks of this room, I can’t believe there could be a shred of evidence left.”

  “Sometimes the best investigators overlook something. And since no foul play was indicated, the room wouldn’t have been combed by a CSI unit, which means there is even more chance of our finding a stray clue.”

  Kelly opened the closet door. It was taller than most hotel closets, built under a spot where the ceiling peaked. Hal’s clothes were still hanging there, including the tuxedo he’d worn to the premiere Friday night. She sank her hands into the trouser pockets and felt around for whatever she might find. She came up with a piece of lint.

  She kept going through his clothes, checking pockets. There were receipts, event tickets, scribbled notes that had no bearing on the case. But Hal was guilty. She knew it.

  But what if she was wrong and the man with the assault rifle was waiting and watching for a second chance?

  The heater kicked on, and a blast of hot air slapped her in the face, triggering a dull ache at her temples. “It’s stuffy in here.”

  “Why don’t you open the door to the balcony and let in a little fresh air,” Nick called from the bathroom. She couldn’t see him but she could hear him moving things around. She crossed the room again, unlocked the sliding-glass door and stepped outside.

  The icy wind whipped around the corner of the building, howling so loudly that it all but drowned out the noise from the street ten stories below. It cut right though her jeans and sweater, and the ache at her temple intensified into a pulsing pain. She ducked back into the room for her coat. That helped, but her nose and cheeks were still freezing.

  It must have been just as cold and windy last night when Hal stepped onto the balcony. But instead of retreating back into the warmth, he’d walked the few feet to the iron railing.

  Kelly did the same, leaning over just enough to see the sidewalk below the balcony. It was stained with blood. She grew nauseous at the thought of his body being flattened against the hard pavement.

  She stared shivering, and she couldn’t stop. One minute alive. One minute dead. It had happened to Nick. It had happened to Hal. It could happen to anyone.

  She looked over the edge again. A woman and little girl were walking hand-in-hand below her. They were laughing together as if they didn’t have a care. Didn’t they know that in an instant their lives could be torn apart and a killer could be firing at them on a lonely road?

  “How much fresh air do you need? It’s freezing out here.”

  She hadn’t heard Jack approach, but she was keenly aware now of his nearness and his protective arm around her shoulders. “Do you watch over all your clients this well?”

  “I don’t remember pulling any of the others off a freezing balcony.”

  “I meant the way you’re always here with a shoulder to lean on.”

  “No, the shoulder’s just for you.”

  His voice grew husky. Must be the wind. She turned to press her face into the warmth of his sweater, but instead met his smoky gaze. The frigid wind still howled, but suddenly she was flushed with heat. Her fragile hold on her emotions slipped, and she reached up and wound her arms around Jack’s neck.

  She pressed against him, not thinking and not caring about what she was doing. She was so tired of fighting everything.

  And then his lips were on hers, hungry, demanding, almost savage—the kind of kiss she hadn’t known in a long, long time. She kissed him back, over and over, withholding nothing. She lost her breath to his, and still she didn’t pull away.

  But then, hot, ridiculous tears burned at the back of her eyelids and started running down her cheeks. She tried to bite them back, but they wouldn’t stop. She pulled away from Jack and turned again to the balcony, holding on to the railing as sobs racked her body.

  Finally the tears subsided, and she reached into her pocket for a tissue. Jack took it from her shaking fingers and wiped away her tears.

  “I’m sorry,” he said. “I was out of line, way out of line.”

  “Don’t apologize. I kissed you. I don’t know why. And I don’t know why I cried. It just happened.”

  “You had a meltdown coming to you. You deserved it.”

  They left it like that and she returned to the closet, but this time pulled up a chair to use as step stool so that she could reach the very top shelf. She pulled down a quilt and an extra pillow and let them fall to the floor.

  There was still something back there. She balanced on the arm of the chair, teetering as she stretched until she could get her fingers around whatever they’d brushed against.

  Finally she had it in her grasp, but she let go and yanked her hand away. “Come here a minute, Jack. I found something.”

  He rushed from the chest where he’d been ravaging drawers. “What is it?”

  “A gun. It’s some kind of gun. You get it. I hate the feel of them.”

  Jack fumbled until he found it, then held it in front of him while he examined it. “A Browning nine millimeter. Good job, Kelly.”

  “I don’t think anyone had looked behind the quilt and sheets. They gave up too soon.”

  “Actually, I’m ready to get out of here, too,” Jack said.

  “Good.” She turned to grab her coat and noticed a square of paper on the floor by the chair that hadn’t been there before. Evidently she’d knocked it from the shelf when she’d pulled down the bed linens. She picked it up and turned it over.

  “What’s that?” Jack asked, stepping closer so he could see what she was studying so intently.

  “A photograp
h of me.” She handed it to him. “It was taken recently, but I don’t know when. I’ve only had that blouse a couple of months. Why would Hal Hayden carry around my picture?”

  There was only one answer to that question, and she didn’t need Jack to supply it. “My theory’s right. I know it is. Hal showed this picture to the hit man so he’d know who to take out.”

  Jack was still standing there, holding the gun in one hand and her photo in the other when she heard a click behind her. She spun around just as the door swung open and a smirking Detective Gilly Carter stepped inside.

  Sunday, 2:47 p.m.

  PPS Headquarters

  KELLY WAVED GOODBYE to Alex, but her daughter’s attention had returned to the video she was watching on a small-screen TV. Alex looked quite contented, nestled in pillows that had been piled onto a love seat. Sara was perusing some files at the desk now, but it was clear in the ten minutes Kelly had spent visiting with them that Sara and Alex had bonded.

  The hallway was empty as Kelly hurried to meet Jack. Gilly Carter had been furious at finding them in Hal Hayden’s hotel room. He’d threatened to arrest both of them, but as Jack had explained on the way back to PPS, that would have meant his having to admit publicly that Jack had found evidence the DPD had overlooked.

  Instead Carter had settled for confiscating the gun. She was sure he would have taken the picture of her, too, had he seen it. But if the gun had turned out to be the weapon used to kill Nick, both Jack and the detective would have to agree with her theory. Somehow Hal Hayden was behind all of this.

  Kelly’s mind slid back to the kiss she’d shared with him on the balcony. He’d brushed it all away as meltdown, but it had been more than that.

  It was the way he’d been there for her every second since he’d walked back into her life. Fourteen years ago, he’d been the rebel, but he’d taken all that wild, restless energy and harnessed it into something strong and brave and good. He was a hero, a man among men. A man you could always count on. That’s what Evangeline had been trying to tell her today.

  She found Jack in the lounge already biting into a slice of piping hot pizza.