by Kay Bigelow
“Cots, you know Commissioner Robinson, don’t you?” Leah asked when he returned to the condo. For some reason, Leah figured that if Quinn had connections in high places, Cots might, too.
“Of course.”
“Can you call and get me an appointment for tomorrow morning?”
“I can call, but I don’t think I’ve got the firepower to order her to do anything.”
“See what you can do to get us an appointment. We need an arrest warrant and a couple of search warrants.” Leah didn’t want to go to her captain or the chief of police for the things she needed to close this case. They’d want to know why she hadn’t reported in for duty and why she’d been acting alone. She didn’t have the time to fight that battle right now. She knew that at the time she’d taken her team and her case off the grid, she’d made the right decision and her bosses had agreed with that decision, but she also knew it might not fly with the chain of command now. She needed to focus on who killed the people in the park and why. After she did that, she’d work with the cops handling the bombing of the precinct house and the crime lab complex to see if there was a connection to her case. If it turned out the cases were connected, then she’d definitely been right to move off-site, and that would be the primary reason she gave to her superiors. If it turned out the cases weren’t connected…well, she’d figure that out when the time came.
I wonder if Quinn has the “firepower” to get me an appointment in the morning? She was damned sure not going to ask her.
Leah felt her phone vibrating in her pocket. She didn’t need to pull it to know it was Quinn. While she didn’t want to talk to her, she had too many unanswered questions about her and Grandini. Quinn had never said her name in front of Leah until earlier in the week. Do I really need to know more about Grandini or is it merely morbid curiosity? She knew Quinn would keep calling or, heaven forbid, come to the condo if she didn’t answer her phone. She didn’t want a confrontation with Quinn with Cots and Peony in the condo. Better to talk to her on the phone where she wouldn’t be tempted to punch her.
With a sigh, she pulled her phone out and speed-dialed Quinn.
“Thanks for calling me back,” Quinn said. “We need to talk. Can I come over?”
Technically, since it was Quinn’s condo, she didn’t need permission to come over. Leah didn’t want her there, but she didn’t want to go out in the storm, and Quinn might have information that could help her move on, personally and professionally. Hopefully, they could keep it quiet so it didn’t impact the other two in the condo. “Yeah, come over.”
Quinn didn’t mention the lack of enthusiasm in Leah’s voice but said, “I’ll be right there.”
In reality, it took Quinn nearly an hour to reach the condo; Leah spent the time trying to stay focused on the case but failing miserably as she considered the forthcoming discussion.
After Quinn removed her outer clothing, Leah led her into the bedroom. One look at Quinn’s expression told her that Quinn expected to get laid. Never again in this lifetime. Leah closed the door and turned back to Quinn.
“It’s time for you to come clean. No more of me having to pull information from you or find out things when they happen to come up. The truth. Now.”
Quinn didn’t protest. Instead, she sat on their bed and patted the space beside her for her to sit. Leah stayed standing.
She nodded, looking resigned. “Stephanie and I were together for four years before she took over as head of her family.”
Yet another thing we thought we knew but couldn’t confirm, and yet Quinn knew this and knew we wanted to know it. “Did you live with her?”
“Yes. We lived here for three years. I asked for the front door key card when she left and she gave it to me. I assumed it was for the front door to this building, but since I didn’t check to make sure, it could be to the front door of any building.”
“Did you love her?” Leah’s chest hurt as the words hit the air.
“Yes. Very much.”
“Did she love you?”
“Yes, very much.” Quinn stayed completely still, not meeting Leah’s eyes.
“But?” Leah waited. “Drude, Quinn. Answer me.”
“Her father didn’t like me because I’m an alien. I told him about being a Devarian when I asked his permission to marry Stephanie. His answer was immediate and emphatically no,” Quinn said bitterly. “It was okay to do business with me; it wasn’t okay for me to marry his daughter.”
She wanted to marry her. Before me, she wanted someone like that. She felt clammy; too hot, too cold. “Why did you ask for his permission and why didn’t you ignore the old man?”
“I asked because he was an old-fashioned man who expected such things. I extended that courtesy to him. I was willing to ignore his response, but Stephanie wasn’t willing to go against her father. I think she knew she wouldn’t win the battle. In the end, she chose her family over me.”
“How old were you?”
“I was twenty-nine. Steph was twenty-four.”
“Do you still have feelings for her?” Leah already knew the answer but needed to know if she would still lie to her at this stage.
Quinn flinched slightly but looked up. “Yes and no. I have feelings such as one would have for any distant, long-over relationship. I’m no longer in love with her, but there is a fondness there, yes. Each of us has changed a great deal over the years. She’s become head of an interstellar crime syndicate, and I have become a successful businesswoman who has to, occasionally, do business with the crime syndicates. I’ll admit, it has helped my business prospects that people know I had an association with the Grandini family.”
“People who know of the ‘association’ may think you’re still in bed with the family,” Leah said. She fought hard to keep her temper in check. Raging at Quinn would change nothing.
“You know I don’t care what people say about me.”
“I do know that. But I don’t have the luxury of not caring what people say about me. You can’t be a cop and have people believing you’re in the pocket of a crime syndicate.”
“I understand. I don’t know what to do about that, but I do understand your position and how untenable it might be. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner, but if you’d known you wouldn’t have been with me.”
You’re damn straight about that. Quinn didn’t sound like she was sorry either. Like most narcissists, she knew what she was supposed to say even if she didn’t actually feel the emotion of regret. Leah had seen it in interrogation rooms too many times to count over the years. She knew what no remorse looked like. “What’s your connection to Grandini today?”
“I hadn’t seen her for three years until yesterday at the museum.”
My God, the woman can’t stop lying about Grandini. Leah wanted to believe it. Desperately. But she didn’t. When Grandini had said point-blank they were sleeping together, Quinn hadn’t denied it. And she’d seen the way Quinn had looked at her. Leah knew the truth.
“Are we good?” Quinn asked.
“Seriously? You need to ask that question? Quinn, you’ve kept too many things from me for no good reason. You’ve jeopardized my career, and you’ve broken faith with me. You’ve lied to me and, on any number of levels, betrayed me. I have no idea what you told her about our case, and I’m not going to ask because I don’t believe you’d tell me the truth. And as for that stunt with the note under the door…” She shook her head, still baffled by it. “I don’t know what kind of game the two of you are playing, and to be honest I don’t care anymore. So no, we’re not good. Not now, never again.” Leah turned her back on Quinn. She didn’t want to cry in front of her whether they were tears of anger, disappointment, or sadness.
The silence lengthened uncomfortably before Leah sighed and headed for the door, but she paused and turned back to Quinn. “I don’t think it’s a good idea for you to stay here.”
“But I want to be here with the team.”
“You’re not a member of the t
eam, Quinn. You’re not a cop, and you’ve got no reason to be involved in my case. And even you don’t always get what you want. If you insist on staying here, I’ll take my team to a hotel.”
“All right, I’ll go. But can we maybe talk some more later?”
“Just go, Quinn,” Leah said wearily.
Once Quinn was gone, Leah heaved a big sigh. She tried to figure out how she felt. There were so many emotions—disappointment, betrayal, jealousy, anger, especially anger—swirling around inside her she couldn’t put a finger on any one of them and say that was how she felt. Trying to deal with her runaway emotions was exhausting. I need to get back to something safe to focus my mind on—like the murders in the field.
Chapter Thirteen
“Good morning,” Leah said as she entered the kitchen the next morning.
“Good morning, Boss,” Peony said cheerfully.
Cots mumbled something indiscernible. Leah didn’t bother asking what it was he’d said. He was obviously not a morning person.
“We’ve got another road trip today. Two actually.”
“Great. I love road trips. Where are we going?” Peony said.
“At ten thirty, we’re having tea with the commissioner, and at two, we’re meeting with the bishop’s personal assistant.”
“Have either of you looked outside yet?” Cots asked.
“No. Why?”
“Go look.”
Leah and Peony went to the large windows in the living room.
“How beautiful,” Peony murmured like the newcomer she was. It had apparently snowed the entire night. There was no dirty snow to be seen anywhere. The world looked new and shiny white.
Leah was more pessimistic, however. She didn’t see the beauty of the scene outside her windows. All she saw was eighteen more inches of new snow on top of the hundred and forty-four inches already on the ground. She also saw the trees swaying and knew the wind chill had to be way, way below zero.
“The good news is they’re predicting we’ll see sun today,” Cots said from behind them.
“Sun. I’ve barely seen the sun since I got here last fall. I miss the sun,” Peony said wistfully, exaggerating only slightly.
“And the bad news?” Leah had to ask.
“They have no idea how long it will take them to get the side streets to the point of being able to drive on them. But the main streets should be cleared in a couple of hours, maybe,” Cots said.
“Let’s hope so,” Leah and Peony said in unison.
“Anyone want breakfast?” Cots asked.
“If you’re making pancakes again, I’m in,” Peony told him.
“Me, too,” Leah agreed.
Leah and Peony joined Cots in the kitchen. “I want to know everything there is to know about Frank Martin. What he does for a living, how often his wife and child ended up in the hospital, who his enemies are. Everything,” Leah said.
“May I ask why?” Cots asked.
“The bishop may have simply been in the wrong place at the wrong time, but the killer or killers were there on purpose. What if this isn’t anything more than something domestic? That would mean someone who knew one of the coven members may be the killer.”
“And since most of the parents didn’t know, or said they didn’t know, that their daughters were involved in a coven, it could mean one of them was lying to us. I agree Frank Martin could be the one,” Peony said.
“Yeah, that’s kind of where I was going, too,” Leah said.
“It actually makes sense, doesn’t it?” Cots asked.
“What do you mean?” Leah asked.
“He’s a nasty piece of shit. He thinks his seventeen-year-old daughter is a whore. Who better to do this than someone like him?”
“Before we decide to close the case based on Martin’s ugliness, let’s find out what the man does for a living, whether he has priors, etc. Let’s finish this one by the book and let’s be thorough,” Leah said.
After the kitchen was cleaned up, they adjourned to the secure room where each of them got onto a computer.
Five minutes later, Peony said, “Got it. You’re not going to believe this.”
“What?” Leah and Cots said in unison.
“Martin works for the city’s Parks and Recreation Department.”
“Doing what?” Leah asked.
“He’s been in the maintenance department for over nineteen years. And here’s where it gets good. He heads up the crew that does tree maintenance,” Peony said.
“He maintains the trees?” Cots asked, clearly confused.
“In a matter of speaking. He prunes the trees, takes down dead or diseased trees, and cleans up the branches and limbs blown off during storms.”
“Yeah, so? Will you stop teasing us and tell us what’s got you so pleased with yourself?” Cots asked.
“He’s got a chipper assigned to him by the department,” Peony said with a wide grin.
“What’s a chipper?” Cots looked at Leah.
“A chipper, Cots, is a machine that you feed limbs and the like into and it chews them up and spits them out in tiny, biodegradable pieces.” Leah stared at the murder board, trying to put the new information into place.
“Just like the victims at the killing field,” Cots said.
“Exactly,” Peony said.
“Remember, let’s play this one by the book. We’ll need a search warrant to go over his chipper and we need more info on Martin’s job. Find out whether Martin used a chipper either the day of or the day after the murders,” Leah told them as she left the secure room to go to the living room to adjust her thinking on the case and to figure out what needed to be done next.
This was the first break they’d had in the case, and Leah’s gut told her they were finally on the right track. She had at least one huge hurdle to overcome, though. She was dead. She couldn’t go to a judge and request a search warrant. She couldn’t even make an arrest. And she wasn’t willing to turn the case over to someone else.
“We’ve got more,” Cots said, coming into the living room where Leah had retreated.
“What?” Leah asked.
“According to the maintenance department’s records, Martin didn’t use a chipper on the day of the murders. However, he was scheduled to drive one the next day to Central Park where a huge old tree had been blown down. Maintenance department records indicate that because it was New Year’s weekend, he checked it out at the end of the day on Friday so he could get an early start Monday morning. Apparently, he often checked the machine out the night before a big job with the sanction of the department.”
“Show me your surveillance tapes of his street,” Leah said.
“Come with me,” he said as he headed for the secure room.
Cots quickly had the tapes on the big screen on the wall.
“What are you looking for?” he asked.
“I have a dim memory of some sort of big maintenance truck parked on his street yesterday. I remember being surprised it was there.”
Cots sped the tape forward to the Martins’ street. Sure enough, there was a large truck in front of the house a few doors up the street from the Martin house.
“There it is,” Leah said.
“Yeah, I remember seeing it, too,” Cots said. “I think I can get a license plate number. I’ll run it and find out who it belongs to.”
“Good. Also find out if Martin was supposed to be working while he was home drinking beer and abusing his wife.”
Leah returned to the living room and began updating the murder board. She was getting excited about the prospect of making an arrest in this case, somehow. First, though, she had to overcome some hurdles. Maybe her meeting with the commissioner would lower a couple of those hurdles. At least I won’t have to stay dead that way.
“I ran the license plate from the truck,” Cots said as he entered the living room. “It belongs to the city’s maintenance department. It’s checked out to Martin for a job he was supposedly doing yesterday.”
<
br /> “So he was supposed to be working when, in reality, he was home?”
“Yes.”
“Good. It might be some leverage we can use against him in time.”
“How so?” Cots asked.
“If he’s been working for the city for nineteen years, he must be getting close to retirement. He won’t want to lose his pension. If we hit him with the fact we can prove he’s been at home while he was supposed to be on the job, he might be more willing to be helpful.”
“Let’s hope we won’t need leverage because that sounds awfully lame to me,” Cots told her.
“Yeah, I know, but right now I want to have as much ammunition as we can muster before confronting any of the players in this drama,” Leah said, knowing she needed more evidence, but she also knew they were finally on the right track.
She made a list on the murder board of the things she’d need until an arrest was made. She’d need a search warrant in order to give Scotty access to the chipper. She’d need an arrest warrant to be able to take Martin into custody. She’d need to take Martin somewhere since her precinct was no longer in existence. Equally important to those things was finding out why the bishop had been killed. The wrong place, wrong time theory for his death felt right, but someone had lured him to the park, and that someone was as responsible for his death as the person who fed him into the chipper.
When she ran out of things to put on the murder board, her mind returned to her job. She knew she’d have to resign from the police force. She was strangely okay with that. She’d been a cop for twenty years. Maybe she’d take a real vacation, like leave the planet and go somewhere else for a while. She and Quinn had talked about that a few years earlier but hadn’t actually done it. What am I going to do about all these feelings I still have for Quinn? I can’t be with her because I can’t, won’t, trust her again. But she still makes my heart beat faster when I think of her. How am supposed to stop my body and mind from wanting her?
