Count to Ten

by Karen Rose

Mia made it to the back of the crowd and looked around. The uniforms stationed at this area looked puzzled. “Nobody matching that description came through here, Detective.”

  Mia swore softly and set off at a jog when she saw her. She was walking fast, a scarf covering her head. And now... She was getting into a white Chevy Cavalier. Mia started running, but the car pulled away from the curb, made a quick turn, and was gone before Mia could get more than the first three letters of the license plate. “DDA—” Shit.

  Mia stopped abruptly in the middle of the street. Dammit. The woman was like a damn ghost. Disgusted, she headed back. Spinnelli was still on the platform.

  Solliday pushed his way around the crowd and met her along the side. “The woman on the tape had brown hair. Why did you chase a blonde?” he demanded.

  “I honestly don’t know. But getting mad at me won’t help, that I can guarantee.”

  “Look, we’re in this investigation together, Detective,” he said, his voice tense and too controlled. “Don’t ever tell me to ‘cover you’ then slip away again. What if it had been someone we needed to follow? I had no way of knowing if you needed backup.”

  “It was personal, all right? I don’t think it had anything to do with this case.”

  Solliday’s eyes flickered. “You walked away from a press conference we threw to draw out a killer because of something personal?”

  Put that way, she could see his point. “Yeah.”

  Spinnelli came up to them, his eyes narrowed. “What was that all about, Mia?”

  Mia pursed her lips. “I... I’ll explain.”

  “Damn straight you will,” Spinnelli snapped. “Debrief in my conference room in ten minutes. Don’t be late.”

  Mia watched him walk away, managing to control her wince. Solliday still stood staring at her, dark eyes flashing. “I’m sorry,” she said. “It won’t happen again.”

  “To paraphrase your leader, damn straight it won’t.” Then he walked away.

  “Goddammit.” But Mia wasn’t sure who she was swearing at. After a minute, she went inside the precinct, deciding she was swearing at herself.

  Chapter Eleven

  Wednesday, November 29, 10:45 A.M.

  All eyes were on her when she walked into the conference room. Spinnelli, Jack, Miles. And Solliday. She sat next to Jack, her stomach churning.

  “Did the woman from the news video show?” Spinnelli barked without preamble.

  Solliday cleared his throat. “No. Mia thought she saw somebody she recognized, but it turned out not to be the video woman. We got some more amateur video taken yesterday evening. We’re hoping to find a lead there.”

  He was covering for her. Mia bit down on the inside of her cheek. As angry as he’d been, he was covering for her. He was acting like a partner. But I didn’t.

  Spinnelli pushed. “You must have seen somebody you knew to disappear like that.” He frowned. “Without communicating your intentions. Who did you see?”

  Mia met Spinnelli’s hard gaze. “I didn’t see the woman from the video. Sir.”

  Spinnelli drummed his fingers once. “Then who was she?”

  Mia laced her fingers together, hard. “It was a personal matter.”

  Spinnelli’s eyes narrowed. “Well, it just became public knowledge. Who was she?”

  Her churning stomach turned upside down. Now everyone would know. “I don’t know her name. I saw her for the first time three weeks ago. She’s popped up a few more times in the last few weeks. Then again today.”

  Spinnelli’s eyes widened. “She’s been following you?”

  “Yeah.” Mia swallowed hard, but the bile still burned the back of her throat.

  “What does she say, Mia?” Solliday asked, very quietly.

  “Nothing. She just looks at me. Then runs before I can find out what she wants.”

  “She saluted you today,” Solliday said.

  She saw it in her mind. That little salute with that small reluctant smile. “I know.”

  Miles leaned back, his eyes sharp. “You do know who she is.”

  “I know who I think she is. But she has nothing to do with this case. Sir.”

  Spinnelli cocked his jaw. “She’s following you. Last night you were shot at.”

  Mia frowned quickly. “That was different. That was Getts.”

  Spinnelli leaned forward. “You don’t know that for sure. So tell me, Mia.”

  It was not a request. “All right. I found out the day of my father’s burial that he’d had a son with... with a woman not my mother. The boy is buried in the plot right next to his. The woman who’s been following me was there, at the burial. She looks just like my father.” She lifted her chin. “I assume she’s his daughter, too.”

  There was a long moment of uncomfortable silence. Then Jack reached over and covered her hands with one of his. She hadn’t realized how cold she was until she felt his warmth. “You’re going to pull your fingers out of their -sockets,” he murmured, loosening the death grip she had on her hands.

  Spinnelli cleared his throat. “I take it you never knew about these... siblings.”

  “No, sir. But that’s not really important. The fact remains that I diverted my attention from a stakeout for personal -reasons. I’ll accept the consequences.”

  Spinnelli looked at her, hard. Then blew out a breath. “Everybody out. Except you, Mia. You stay.” Chairs scraped as Miles, Solliday and Jack rose to their feet.

  When the door was shut, she closed her eyes. “Just get it over with, Marc.”

  She could hear his footsteps as he paced the length of the room. Then he stopped. “Look at me, Mia.” Bracing herself, she did. He stood on the other side of the table, his fists on his hips, his mustache bunched in a frown. “Hell, Mia. Why didn’t you tell me?”

  “I...” She shook her head. “I don’t know.”

  “Abe said you told him you were distracted that night. Now I guess it all makes sense.” He sighed. “I’m not sure I’d have done anything differently.”

  Her heart thumped hard in her chest. “Sir?”

  “Mia, we’ve known each other too long for this shit. You have a personal problem, you take personal time, okay? But under the circumstances, I would have followed her, too. You think she’s a danger?”

  Mia drew her first easy breath in an hour. “I don’t think so. Like Solliday said, today she saluted me. It was almost... -respect. All I could think was that we were -watching for -suspicious faces and there she was. But she showed up before the arson started.”

  “She just gives you the creeps.”

  “Yeah. Makes me wonder how many more there are out there.”

  “Well, figure it out on your own time,” he said, but gently. “Now, get back to work. I want to know who that woman in the news video is, ASAP. You’re dismissed.”

  Mia made it to the door, then paused, her hand on the doorknob. “Thanks, Marc.”

  He just grunted. “Get out of those monkey shoes, Mitchell.”

  Mia got back to the bullpen and stopped. Dana stood next to her desk, a small cardboard box clutched in her hand. “What’s up?” she asked, dropping to her chair.

  Dana lifted her brows. “I’ve come to report a homicide.” She set the box on Mia’s desk and pulled out a crab, its claws wrapped with rubber bands. It wasn’t moving.

  Mia wrinkled her nose. “Jeez, Dana, what the hell is that?”

  “It was a Maryland crab. I caught it with my own hands. It was alive and would have been alive if you’d come last night. Now it’s dead and you’re to blame. I want justice.”

  “I can’t believe people eat those. They look like giant bugs from a bad fifties flick.”

  Dana dropped the dead crab back in the box. “They’re pretty tasty, which you would have found out if we could have cooked this one for you. I heard there was a press conference, so I figured you’d be here. I’ve been worried. How’s your shoulder?”

  “Good as new.”

  “And now you’ve got a
new owie. What did you do to yourself now?”

  “Dodged a bullet,” she said carelessly and Dana’s eyes narrowed.

  “This new case?”

  “No.”

  “You’ll tell me later. For now, I need to know what’s happening on this arson case.”

  “You know I can’t tell you specifics, Dana.”

  Pain flashed in Dana’s brown eyes. “I knew Penny Hill.” And she was mourning her, Mia could see. “She was a good person. You’ll catch who did this?”

  “Yes.” Now if they had a lead or two, she’d feel better about that promise.

  “Good.” Dana tilted her head. “And everything else? How’s all that?”

  “I had to tell Spinnelli. She was at the press conference.”

  Dana blinked in surprise. “Damn.”

  “She got away again, but I got half her license plate this time.”

  “You want Ethan to track her down?”

  Dana’s husband was a PI with a way around computers. “Not yet. I’ll try first.” Mia’s gaze swerved to the edge of the bullpen, where Solliday had entered, a small television under one arm and a VCR under the other. He’d covered for her when he didn’t have to. Dana twisted around to see what she was looking at and whistled softly.

  She looked back, her appreciation evident. “So who is he?”

  “Who?” But it was a bad plan to play dumb. “Oh. Him.”

  “Yeah, him.” Dana’s lips twitched. “Want me to run a background check on him?”

  Mia felt her cheeks heat, knowing exactly what Dana meant. She’d run Ethan through the system herself when Dana got all floppy-eyed over him and they’d been married just a few months later. It didn’t take a detective to connect the dots. “Not necessary. That’s my new partner.”

  Dana’s eyes now flashed amusement. “You were a little sparse on the details, girl.” She stood up as Solliday put the video equipment on Abe’s desk. “Hello, there. I’m Dana Buchanan, Mia’s friend. And you are?”

  Solliday shook the hand Dana extended. “Reed Solliday, her temporary partner.” His mouth curved, his eyes warming. “You’re the foster mother.”

  Dana’s smile broadened. “I am. Right now I have five, but I’ll get another soon.”

  “I was a foster kid. My parents were active in the system for years. Good for you.”

  Dana still held his hand, studying his face in a way that made Mia’s cheeks hotter. “Thank you.” She let go of his hand and turned back to Mia. “Call me later, or I’ll come find you. That’s a promise.” She gave a backward wave as she walked away.

  Mia grabbed Wright’s video. “Thanks for getting the TV.”

  “No problem.” Watching her friend from the corner of his eye, Reed tossed Mia the cord. “Plug it in and I’ll set it up.” When the redhead got to the edge of the bullpen, she stopped and looked back. Her brows lifted in silent -challenge, then she disappeared into the hall. There had been a comforting quality to her voice and in the way she’d held his hand, as if they’d been old friends. “She forgot her box,” he said.

  Mia glanced up and laughed. “She would. It’s got a dead crab in it.”

  “Your friend brought you a dead crab?”

  “It was supposed to be a culinary delight.” She ducked under her desk to plug the cord in, then stood, briskly tugging at her dress uniform. “Let’s look at Mr. Wright’s opus.”

  Reed popped in the video. “This is the footage of the fire we saw last night.” In silence they watched the fire scene, watched themselves. Reed swallowed the wince when the camera caught him fumbling with his boots and Mia taking over the task.

  “I’m sorry about that,” she murmured and he remembered the look in her eyes when he’d rebuked her. Remote, as if she’d pulled back from a slap. But you’re stuck with me. The words were telling in light of what she’d just divulged. What a shock it must have been to find her father had a second family. He searched for something to say.

  “Mia, about what happened in Spinnelli’s office...”

  Her eyes never left the small screen, her jaw going taut. “Thanks for trying to cover for me. You won’t have to do it again.”

  “I didn’t mean that. That woman. Your...” He faltered. “It must have been a shock.”

  Her eyes narrowed at the video as a young woman with a braid came into the picture, briefly. “There’s Carmichael, skulking around.”

  She’d shut the door on the subject. “She kept to the background,” he said.

  “I should have seen her.”

  “Maybe. You’ll be looking for her next time.”

  She shot him a guarded glance. “Carmichael, yes.”

  He held her eyes for a moment before she looked away, back to the screen where the scene had changed. Wheaton stood at the curb, fluffing out her hair and checking her makeup. “Jared’s brother Duane was standing pretty far back,” he said.

  “It’s going to make it hard to get anything unless he -ventures closer.”

  “It’s still quarter to six according to the time stamp. The woman’s not here yet.” He pulled Mitchell’s chair around their desks. “Sit down. This could take a while.” The picture focused on Wheaton, before finally zooming out. Reed sat up straight, suddenly alert. “She’s there.” The blue Hyundai was parked off to the side and the woman was standing at her car door, staring up at the house, just as she had on Action News’s video.

  Mitchell had leaned forward, squinting. “Can we get a make on the plate?”

  “Maybe your computer enhancement guys can,” Reed said doubtfully. “Duane’s still too far away for me to see anything and the angle’s bad.”

  Then as if heeding their wish, the camera crept a little closer, taking a trip along the outer boundary of cars and onlookers. Reed held his breath. “Just a little farther.”

  “Holly’s on,” Mitchell said. “Her people are paying attention to her. Duane’s getting a little braver. Come on, boy. Move your ass closer.” Duane did, the video inching closer to the car. Finally it stopped, the plate still too small to read, but in full view.

  “Closer, boy,” she murmured, but the camera hovered in place for a few seconds, then abruptly moved back to -Wheaton’s camera crew who were dismantling equipment. Then there was static as the video stopped.

  “I think that’s the best we’re going to get,” Reed said. “Let’s take this to the computer guys. Maybe we’ll get lucky.”

  Mitchell pushed her chair back. “The computer guys are on the fifth floor. You take them the video. I’ll change and meet you. Don’t have any fun until I get there.”

  He watched as she jogged from the bullpen. She’d closed herself off, just as she had when he’d touched her face. He should let it go. But he wasn’t sure he could.

  Wednesday, November 29, 1:05 P.M.

  Mia stared out the window of the SUV as Solliday slowly drove past the teachers’ parking lot. “There it is. One blue Hyundai, registered to Brooke Adler, English teacher.”

  “Your computer guys did a good job blowing up that video frame.”

  “Technology is a beautiful thing,” she agreed as he pulled into a visitor’s space. “Adler’s got a clean sheet. She doesn’t seem like a likely arson suspect.”

  “Agreed. But she knows something. Or thinks she does.”

  “Agreed. If she’d set the fire, I think she’d look satisfied, but she just looked guilty.”

  “The fact that she works with delinquent kids is as good a tie as any so far.”

  “Our arsonist isn’t a novice. You said so yourself. Could he really be a kid?”

  “I said his fire-setting methods were sophisticated. I don’t think he’s a little kid. A teenager would certainly fit the profile.” He angled his head. “What’s wrong, Mia?”

  She met his eyes, troubled. “Penny Hill was burned alive. On purpose.”

  “And part of you doesn’t want to believe a kid is capable of that,” he said quietly. “While the other part knows better.”

&nbs
p; She nodded, the truth of it a bitter taste in her mouth. “That about sums it up.”

  He lifted a shoulder, sympathetic. “We could be wrong.”

  “I hope not. It’s the first real lead we’ve gotten.” She slid to the ground. “Let’s go.”

  She walked through the school door he held open, thinking she could get used to somebody like Reed Solliday. Doors, chairs, coffee. She was getting spoiled.

  A woman sat behind the glass. Her badge said she was Marcy. “Can I help you?”

  “I’m Detective Mitchell and this is Lieutenant Solliday. We’ve already provided ID to your security guard at the gate. We’d like to speak with Miss Adler, please.”

  “I’m afraid she’s in class right now. May I take a message?”

  Mia smiled obligingly. “You may not. You may tell her to come talk to us right now.”

  A man appeared to their left. “I’m Dr. Bixby, director of Hope Center. Can I help?”

  Mia distrusted him at first sight. “Only to assist us in speaking to Miss Adler. Now.”

  “Marcy, arrange for coverage in Miss Adler’s room. Come with me.” He led them to a small room, spartanly furnished. “You can wait here. It will be more private than the lobby. As her employer, I have to ask. Is Miss Adler in some kind of trouble?”

  Mia kept smiling. “We just want to talk to her.”

  Uncertainly the man closed the door, leaving them alone with an old desk and two worn chairs. The single window was covered with black bars. It was what it appeared to be—a prison for bad kids. “I always wonder if they’ve got places like this bugged.”

  “Then let’s ask her to step outside,” Solliday said simply and Mia looked up at him.

  “No ‘Don’t be so paranoid, Mitchell’?” she asked.

  “Does Abe say that?”

  “No, never. He just flips a coin to choose lunch. Heads is good. Tails is vegetarian.”

  He paced the length of the small room and once again she was taken with the fluid grace with which he moved. A man his size should look cramped and out of place in a room this small. Instead, he moved like a cat, balancing on the balls of his feet. Graceful, but... restless. “I take it you’re not taken with vegetarian fare,” he murmured.