She swept into the lab, pinching the glove between her fingers. “Ah, Clive. Just the man I was looking for.”
He glanced up, the fluorescent light in the ceiling making his bald pate look yellowish. “Hello, Kyra. Can I help you?”
She twitched the scarf at her neck. Those lights would do a number on her bruises, too. The other cops might know about the attack on her the night before last, but not all the techs would know.
Holding out the glove, she said, “Jake found this GPS tracker on my car. He had gloves on when he handled it and dropped it in here. We thought there might be prints.”
Clive cocked his head. “Someone’s tracking you?”
“Long story.”
“This isn’t another one of your off-the-record requests, is it, Kyra?” He clenched his jaw.
“No.” She placed the glove on the table in front of him, along with her phone and makeup bag. “Jake is fully aware of this and would’ve brought it in to you himself, but he left it at...in my car, after disabling it, of course. You can call and check with him if you like.”
She’d asked Clive to do a favor for her before, and when Jake had found out, he wasn’t happy. Clive usually did things by the book.
A smile stretched his thin lips. “I trust you. I can’t get to it right away, though. Plenty of prints to process from Walker’s house and car.”
“That’s fine. Just like the card you dusted for me, I’m pretty certain the person who planted it didn’t leave any prints.”
“You never know.” He untied the glove and withdrew a plastic bag for appropriate evidence labeling. “I’ll let J-Mac know if I find anything. Tied to the copycats?”
“Could be.” She didn’t feel like going into her whole relationship with The Player.
“Hi, Kyra. What brings you to our sweatshop?”
Kyra turned toward the door and smiled at Lori on the threshold. “Are you accusing Clive of being a hard taskmaster?”
“Never. We’re just swamped with work right now—that’s a good thing.”
“And I just dumped some more on Clive, so I’ll leave you guys to your work.” She twisted back to sweep up her phone and makeup. “Lunch sometime?”
“Absolutely.” Lori winked. “Once the chains come off.”
Kyra held up her hand to Clive, who’d already bagged and boxed the GPS device. “Thanks, Clive.”
Kyra made a detour to the restroom, and when she placed her phone on the vanity, she saw Shai’s text message confirming their appointment—the last of the day again.
A few hours later, rubbing the back of her neck, she’d wished she’d suggested lunch with Lori today. Jake’s and Billy’s desks were still vacant, and it became apparent she had a sandwich from the deli down the block in her future.
She spent the rest of the afternoon tying up some loose ends with the victims’ families and discussing Quinn’s memorial and funeral arrangements with Terrence. The ME’s office had called her this morning and let her know she could have Quinn transported to the mortuary. Terrence had picked one out and told her he’d handle everything, although she’d insisted on meeting him at the funeral home with Quinn’s suit.
Jake had texted her a few times and reminded her that he’d be meeting her when her session with Shai ended to follow her home. If he could put a guard on her 24/7, he’d opt for that.
She packed up for the day and tried to tiptoe past Captain Castillo’s open office door, but he called out to her. She backpedaled and hung on to the doorjamb. “I was just on my way out.”
“I won’t keep you. I spoke to Terrence today, and he told me he talked to you about the plans for Quinn.”
She nodded. “He knows so much more about these things than I do, so I’m going to let him take the lead. He’s consulting me about a few personal touches, but I sure wish we could catch Quinn’s killer before the memorial. It doesn’t seem right to hold it when the guy who murdered him is running around.”
“Don’t lose hope.” Castillo winked, and Kyra understood he didn’t want to say more.
She didn’t, either, and she pulled away from his door with a wave of her hand.
She’d allowed herself an hour and fifteen minutes to get to Shai’s office, and turned down San Vicente with ten minutes to spare. Shai’s office occupied a street with restricted parking, so that fact relegated her to grabbing a spot along the median strip of San Vicente again. This busy boulevard hadn’t given her problems last time, but she balked slightly as she turned the corner onto the street where she’d been attacked.
Her breath flowed a little easier when she saw a few people parking their cars and darting in and out of the office buildings along the tree-lined street. The sun hadn’t completely set yet but painted long shadows on the leaf-dappled sidewalk. As Kyra approached the courtyard of Shai’s building, she slid her hand into the gun pouch on the outside of her purse—just in case.
She hadn’t hit the right mood for a hypnosis today. Taking a deep breath, she approached Shai’s office door and shoved it open. Her greeting died on her lips as she noticed the door to Shai’s inner office firmly closed.
He’d told her last time he left that door open for his last appointment—her. The hair on her arms stood on end as a chill rippled up her spine. “Shai?”
She glanced over her shoulder at the courtyard, the trees surrounding it blocking out the setting sun. She slammed the door behind her...and locked it. Pulling her weapon from her purse, she crept toward the door to Shai’s inner sanctum and called his name again. As long as she didn’t accidentally shoot him, he’d understand her caution.
With the gun gripped in one hand, she tried the door handle with the other. She sucked in a breath as it gave beneath her fingers. Raising her weapon, she pushed open the door, the sweet woodsy scent of the candle barely perceptible over another smell, like wet pennies.
She shuffled into the room. As her eyes adjusted to the low light, she picked out open drawers and papers strewn about the floor. With her heart galloping in her chest, she stumbled toward Shai’s desk, her purse sliding from her shoulder, and almost tripped over his legs protruding from behind the desk.
Stifling a scream, she dropped to her knees and grabbed Shai’s warm hand. Warm. His hand was warm, despite the wound on the side of his head, soaking the carpet with his blood.
He moaned, and Kyra yanked the scarf from her neck and wrapped it around his head. “Hold on, Shai. I’m going to call 911. You’re going to be okay.”
She sprang to her feet to retrieve her purse where she’d dropped it by the door. As she grabbed it, a clicking sound had her whipping her head toward the outer office and the front door.
Her blood ran cold as she saw the door handle twist.
Chapter Sixteen
Jake careened around the corner and screeched to a halt behind the emergency vehicles, abandoning his car in the middle of the street. He vaulted over the crime scene tape and grabbed the first officer he saw. “What happened here?”
The cop shook him off. “Sir, you’re going to have to wait behind the line.”
Jake flipped out his badge with an unsteady hand. “What’s going on?”
“Someone was attacked in one of the offices. It doesn’t look good.”
The wheels of the gurney the EMTs were rolling into the office building courtyard squealed, grating against his ears. Jake swallowed. “I-is she dead?”
“She?” The officer shook his head. “The victim is a male, an older male, and he’s still alive.”
Relief making his knees weak, Jake staggered through the courtyard, clutching his badge. When he walked into Shai’s office, he rushed to Kyra perched on the edge of a chair, and fell to his knees in front of her. Blood smeared her blouse, and dabs of it dotted her cheek.
His hands circled her waist. “Are you all right? What happened?”
A s
ob bubbled to her lips, and she swayed forward, grabbing his shoulders. “It’s Shai. The Player got in here and attacked him.”
“The officer out front said he was still alive.”
“Barely.” Her fingers dug into his jacket. “I thought at first he’d been shot. There was so much blood around his head, but then I saw the paperweight on the floor later, after the police came. He was here. The Player was here.”
“He attacked Shai and then left before you came?” Maybe The Player hadn’t known about Kyra’s appointment today. He couldn’t imagine the killer would give up a chance to harm Kyra.
“He was still here, waiting for me.” Her gaze flew to the front door of the office. “When I first walked into the office, I sensed something was off. Shai told me he always left the door to his therapy space open before his last patient. It was open the previous time, but this time it was closed. So when I walked into the office, I closed the door behind me...and locked it.”
“You think The Player would’ve tried to come in behind you?”
Her eyes widened. “I know he did. After I found Shai, I ran back to get my phone to call 911. Someone was trying the door from the outside. He would’ve come in, maybe surprised me when I was with Shai.”
Jake took her hands in his. “What did you do? Where did he go?”
“I had my gun. I aimed it at the door and told him if he stepped into the office, I’d shoot. Told him if he didn’t leave, I’d shoot right through the door. He left.”
“You didn’t see him?”
“No.”
“Did Shai see him?”
“I don’t know. Shai was moaning and alive when I found him, but he lost consciousness before the paramedics arrived.” Kyra popped up from her chair as the EMTs wheeled the gurney from Shai’s therapy room. “Is he going to make it?”
One of the EMTs called out to her. “He’s still alive. Still unconscious.”
Jake stood up and wandered toward the inner office, where papers littered the floor and drawers and cabinets gaped open. “He was looking for something.”
Kyra touched his arm. “I’m pretty sure he was looking for notes from my session two days ago. He wants to know what I’m remembering.”
“Then stop remembering.” Jake squeezed her hand. “You don’t have to remember. We’ll catch him this time. We’ll stop him. He’s stepped back into the light, and he’s careless, nervous. He’s not the precise killer he was twenty years ago. We’ll get him, and you don’t have to do another thing.”
“No video footage of him, no prints, no witnesses. He’s still careful, Jake. He still knows how to play the game. Even if I can give you a description of what he looked like twenty years ago, that might help. It’s more than you have now.”
A muscled ticked at the corner of Jake’s mouth. “Shai’s hurt. He’s not going to be able to help you anymore. In fact, I’m going to request that Castillo remove you from this task force. You’re in communication with all of the victims’ families. You work with them, and leave the investigation part to us.”
Kyra’s eyes flashed blue fire, but then she took a deep breath. “Let’s pray Shai is going to pull through.”
“I’ll call the hospital as soon as they get him there.” He touched a finger to her cheek. “You have his blood on you.”
“You should’ve seen my hands before the EMTs cleaned them. I staunched the bleeding on his head wound with my scarf.”
“If he lives, it will be because of you.”
She dug into her purse for a tissue and dabbed the blood on her face. “I was just going to call you when you came charging in here. You were early.”
“As soon as I finished reviewing some evidence with Billy, I took off. Figured I’d park right in front of Shai’s office and wait for you in the courtyard. I wasn’t going to have you take any chances this time, but I didn’t realize he’d come at you another way. I wonder why he didn’t just wait for you in Shai’s office and ambush you when you came in.”
She lifted her shoulders. “He probably didn’t know whether or not Shai had any more patients coming. He most likely waited until one left, came into the office, attacked Shai, searched for my session notes and then left before someone else could come. He was probably staking out the courtyard, waiting for me or making sure nobody else was coming.”
The hair on the back of Jake’s neck stood at attention. “Do you think he knew you had an appointment?”
“I don’t know. Maybe he was just here to hurt Shai and search his office. My showing up was the cherry on top.”
“Your being alive and unhurt was my cherry.” He put his arm around her and pulled her close. “When I saw the emergency vehicles at Shai’s office and heard someone had been attacked, everything went dark for me. I thought I’d failed you.”
She kissed his jaw. “You never have, and you never will.”
* * *
BY MIDAFTERNOON the next day, Kyra knew Jake meant business when he told her he wanted her off the task force and shielded from the investigation into Quinn’s murder. He’d given her no updates, and everyone seemed to be tiptoeing around her.
He’d only called to tell her about Shai’s condition—holding steady but still not conscious. Jake also believed Shai’s hospitalization would put an end to her sessions. But while Jake had slept at her place last night, she’d practiced self-hypnosis and had gotten as far as she had with Shai, stopping in exactly the same place—just when The Player was about to turn and show his face. Maybe without Shai’s guidance she wouldn’t be able to get any further, but she wasn’t going to stop trying.
She didn’t think Jake would allow her to ever spend one night on her own again until the task force caught The Player. He’d already invited her over tonight for the entire weekend. It’s the only thing that still gave her hope that he’d share the progress of the investigation with her. She didn’t think he’d be able to resist talking to her about it all weekend—and she’d be there to encourage him. The weekend couldn’t come soon enough.
He and Billy had another busy day with briefings, a press conference and meetings with Chief Sterling. Once the chief found out that Jake and Billy believed The Player was responsible for Quinn’s death, he wanted them to go full speed ahead on the investigation—without her.
She knew Jake and Billy had also started the unsavory task of delving into the whereabouts of some of the cops at the Northwest Division during the times of some of the murders. The cops would also have to be of a certain age and have been around during The Player investigation twenty years ago. She didn’t envy them that task, even if the subjects might not ever find out they were under suspicion.
At the end of the day, with most of the task force clearing out, she stretched and ran her hand along her desk. She’d miss this desk, this room, her spot in the corner.
Clive poked his head in the door, peering across the room. “J-Mac and Billy still gone?”
“They left around lunch and I haven’t seen them since, and don’t think I will.” Until tonight, snug in Jake’s arms, where she could start to work on him.
She blinked as she noticed Clive still standing there, his brow right up to his shaved head wrinkled. “Can I help you with something?”
His gaze snapped to her eyes, his face smoothing. “Of course. I should be showing you instead.”
Her heart bumped in her chest. “Showing me what?”
“It’s regarding the GPS tracker found on your car.”
She put a hand to her throat, where the bruises from the attack a few nights ago were yellowing. “You found prints?”
“I found...something.” He put a finger to his lips and twisted his head to the side, scanning the war room, depleted of most of its soldiers. He lowered his voice. “I know Jake and Billy suspect someone on the inside. I don’t want to raise any suspicions or alarms—especially if I’m wrong.”
<
br /> “But if you’re right?” Butterflies swirled in her empty stomach, and she flattened her hand against her waist.
“Then I have a pretty good idea who put that device on your car, and that’s going to lead us right to The Player.”
She grabbed her phone. “I’ll text Jake.”
Clive inclined his head. “And if I’m wrong? If we’re wrong? I heard a rumor that J-Mac is kicking you off the task force. Will he allow us to do this little investigation—if he knows about it?”
She stared at the phone in her hand. If she told Jake about this, even if she could reach him now, he’d probably tell her to wait, step back.
Clive continued in a soft voice. “I did a favor for you once, Kyra. Dusted that playing card for prints—off the record. I even caught heat for it. You said back then you’d buy me lunch. This would be more appreciated than lunch.”
“All right. What do you want me to see? Is it in the lab?”
“I need to lift some prints off-site. I can take you over in my car, and we can be back here within an hour. If it’s nothing, no harm, and we’ll keep it to ourselves. Nobody’s reputation takes a hit.”
Kyra hesitated. Did Clive mean that he was going to lift prints from a possible suspect on the sly?
His phone rang, and he held up a finger. “My wife. That’s right, sweetheart. I am going to be late, but not too late. Dinner is still on with the Carsons. If I have to meet you at the restaurant, I will.”
When he ended the call, he held up his phone. “Monthly dinner plans with friends. When I thought I might be taking J-Mac out to this location, I warned my wife, but she’s good. Ready?”
If she could hand this to Jake, if she could do this for Quinn, it would make it all worthwhile. “Yes. I need a few minutes to pack up.”
“That’s perfect. Meet me at my car. It’s a white Prius parked on the street.” He patted the black bag hanging off one shoulder. “I have my materials.”
When Clive left the room, Kyra logged off her laptop and stuffed it into the case. She grabbed her jacket off the back of the chair and surveyed the room. A few members of the task force talked on the phone or clicked away on their computers. Nobody looked up. If Clive knew Jake planned to boot her off the task force, these team members probably already saw her as persona non grata.
The Trap Page 17
