by Darcia Helle
“It’s good.”
He looked at Dylan and said, “You get gourmet treats. I get dragonfruit. How is that fair?”
Dylan meowed and blinked his big green eyes. Lucianna picked him up and carried him into the living room. She curled up on the couch, the cat in her lap. “Sam claims he has information that will help us,” she said.
Vinnie got comfortable in the recliner. He sipped his water and said, “Not bad.”
“He offered a deal.”
“What sort of deal?”
She told him the details. He sipped his water and listened quietly until she got to the part about the money. Then he leaned forward and said, “Ten thousand dollars is a lot to hand over.”
“I agree.”
“What’s your feeling on this?”
“He definitely knows something,” Lucianna said. “The guy’s scared. My take is he’s going to run whether we do this or not. And, honestly, I get the feeling he wants to help. He seems to genuinely care about what happens to Corinne.”
“Or he feels guilty and wants to redeem himself.”
“There’s that too.”
“Okay,” Vinnie said. “But ten grand is still a large payoff.”
“Yes it is.”
“Does McCormick even have that kind of money? And would he be willing to go along with this?”
Lucianna stroked beneath Dylan’s chin. Then she turned back to her uncle and said, “I don’t know the answer to either of those questions.”
“But?”
“But what?”
He held her gaze in silence for a moment. “I see the but in your eyes, my dear. You want to do this.”
“I think Sam may have the answers we need.”
“And this is only about solving a case?”
“Yes.”
Vinnie shook his head, a smile playing on his lips. “You don’t lie well.”
Lucianna looked back down at Dylan. She scratched behind his ear as she said, “Corinne needs help. She’ll probably never get well if we don’t find the answers to what made her this way to begin with.”
“She may never get well, regardless.”
“I realize that.”
“I told you that it was never a good idea to get personally involved with a case,” Vinnie said. “The lines become blurred. It is no longer about business.”
Lucianna sighed. “This isn’t about Ian…”
“Of course it is,” Vinnie said. “And that’s okay, as long as you’re aware that your involvement is now on a different level. You’re smart. I know you can handle it.”
She met his eyes and smiled. “So what do you think about Sam?”
“Offer him five grand. Don’t give in too easily. And, when it comes time to make this deal, I’ll be there. If the information is not worthy, the money comes back with us.”
Lucianna nodded. “I’ll have to call Ian, see if he agrees to this.”
Vinnie asked, “Do you think he has the money?”
“I really don’t know.”
“But?”
Lucianna groaned. “Again with the but. But what?”
“But it doesn’t matter, does it?”
She looked at him. He flashed her a mischievous smile and said, “If he doesn’t, you plan on paying Evans yourself, don’t you?”
Lucianna gave a slow nod. She was about to offer a string of excuses when Vinnie said, “Does he know how you feel about him?”
She blinked, said, “Ian?”
“Well of course Ian. Did you think that I was referring to Sam?”
“Well I haven’t come out and said…”
“Love is a bitch of a thing, is it not?”
Lucianna laughed. “It sure is.”
***
By the time Vinnie left, it was well after midnight. A little late for a visit or even a phone call to Ian. No sense in waking him when there was nothing they could do at this hour anyway. She’d catch him first thing in the morning. Then they would talk it out and make their decisions.
She slipped into her pajamas, brushed her teeth, then crawled beneath her covers. Dylan hopped up, purring and nuzzling against her. She stroked his soft fur. A brisk wind rattled the bedroom window. She closed her eyes and thought about the blood money she had sitting in the bank.
Blood money sounded dramatic, even to her. But she didn’t know what else to call it. The money from her parents’ life insurance. Her father had killed her mother. What else do you call that sort of inheritance?
Her uncle had not touched a cent of that money for any purpose, although he took care of her and had every right to use it toward her expenses. Vinnie and her Aunt Mary had both refused. The money was hers, for when she got older. For her education. To make a life for herself.
Vinnie had put the money into safe investments. And there it sat. Still. She had gotten a scholarship to help with college. Vinnie and Mary had paid for the rest. They had claimed it was only fair, since they were paying for their son’s education. She had argued and, as was typical with Vinnie, she had lost.
She now had more than enough money to pay for a house of her choice, in cash. Yet she lived in this condo and paid rent every month. Silly, she knew. Wasteful as well. Vinnie had questioned her only once. And she had told him the truth. That the money felt tainted, like she was using her mother’s blood to get ahead, to make her own life easier. He had not agreed, though he had understood. And he had said that she would use the money when she was ready. When it felt right.
Using the money to help save someone’s sanity, maybe even her life, felt right.
Lucianna snuggled against Dylan. Now she just needed to convince Ian that the money wasn’t charity to him. She wanted to do it because she wanted to help, regardless of what did or didn’t happen in their relationship. She wanted to do it because in some bizarre way it felt as if her mother was guiding her.
Maybe helping Ian’s mother somehow gave her own mother’s death a purpose. She opened her eyes and could almost see her mother sitting on the edge of the bed, smiling down at her. She smiled into the dark, closed her eyes, and drifted off into a peaceful sleep.
Chapter 34
“This is crazy,” Sterling muttered.
Graham glanced at him, then back down at his plate. He stuck his fork into the pile of pancakes, lifting a big chunk to his mouth. As usual, he ignored Sterling’s statement. “Endicott’s first appointment isn’t until ten,” he said. “I figure he should be in his office by nine, maybe nine-thirty. We’ll get in there, you keep him distracted, and I’ll plant the bug.”
“And what pretense am I supposed to use in order to distract him?” Sterling asked. His eyes moved around the restaurant, which was fairly busy at this early hour. He picked up his coffee, put it down, said, “Not to mention the obvious of what ploy we’re going to use in the first place in order to get from his waiting room into his office.”
“What, you suddenly have no imagination?” Graham said. “What’s so hard about this? It’s not like you never worked undercover before. Not like you never lied before.”
“This is different,” Sterling said quietly.
“Jesus,” Graham muttered. “All right, I’ll do the talking, you plant the damn bug. Or does that deed also go against your high and mighty ethics?”
Sterling flinched at the tone of Graham’s voice. He stared down at his coffee and said, “I’ll plant it. But I don’t like this at all.”
“You got a better idea?”
“Yeah, I do.”
“Great, let’s hear it.”
“We go to the captain,” Sterling said. “Tell him what’s going on. Bring Ian McCormick in and find out what he knows, if anything at all. And also drag Evans’ ass in because we know he has information.”
Graham smirked, grabbed a piece of bacon and chomped on it. He said, “And you think it’ll be that easy? You think the captain is gonna just let all the fuckups slide? You don’t think he’s gonna rip us apart and hang us out to dry on our own?”
“I don’t know,” Sterling said. “But we get caught doing this and there sure as hell won’t be a way out.”
“Then we don’t get caught,” Graham said. “It’s that simple.”
“We come clean, we can still work this out.”
Graham sopped up the extra syrup with his last bite of pancakes. He continued to eat, acting as if he hadn’t heard. Finally, with a cold edge to his voice, he said, “You willing to come all the way clean? You gonna tell the captain how you got this deep to begin with?”
“What about you?” Sterling said. He’d had it with being the scapegoat. His blood pressure teetered on the edge of erupting. “What’s your stake in this, Graham? What the hell are you hiding that’s got you so willing to risk it all?”
Graham’s lips turned into a grin, though his expression showed no sign of amusement. His voice was full of barely controlled anger. “Stay the fuck out of my business,” he said. “You’re just lucky I didn’t toss you to the wolves when this all came down. Remember that.”
Sterling glared at his partner. His lips pursed tightly and he chewed the inside of his lip to keep from spouting his opinion of the man across from him. He despised Graham almost as much as he despised himself. And there wasn’t a damn thing he could do about it.
***
Lucianna woke to the sound of rain battering her window. She rolled over and glanced at the numbers on her alarm clock. Blinking the sleep away, she brought the numbers into focus and muttered, “Shit.” 7:42. She should have been up nearly two hours ago.
With a sigh, she pushed the covers off and stretched. Dylan looked up at her, his green eyes bleary with sleep. Lucianna frowned at him. “Why is it,” she asked him, “that you never fail to awaken me early on weekends? Yet when I need you to get me moving, you’re a lazy lump.”
Dylan gazed at her with disinterest, then closed his eyes and curled up in a ball. Ignoring her. Go figure.
By eight o’clock Lucianna had showered and dressed in jeans, a turtleneck, and a soft sloppy chambray shirt. She cursed herself for being so late. Ian would probably be at work by now. She’d wanted to catch him at home before he left. What she had to tell him wasn’t exactly conducive to a public conversation. But they’d both have to make do.
She grabbed the cordless phone off its base. Dylan looked up and meowed at her. As she dialed, she said, “Be patient. I’ll get your breakfast in a minute.”
A moment later Ian answered with a cheerful, “Good morning, Lucianna.”
Lucianna heard the smile in his voice and couldn’t help but smile herself. “Good morning,” she said. “Are you already at work?”
“I’m at Rob’s, my partner’s house,” Ian replied. “We’re just packing up the truck. Why, what’s up?”
“I need to talk to you. In person.”
“What’s going on? Do you know something about my mother?”
“Can you meet me at my office in about a half hour?” Lucianna asked. “It’s important.”
“Yeah. Sure.”
“Great. I’ll see you then.”
Lucianna clicked her phone off and rubbed Dylan under the chin. “C’mon you lazy bum. I have just enough time to feed you and make myself tea for the road.”
***
Sterling reluctantly followed Graham across the parking lot. The building was a brick duplex. Two glass front doors, side by side. The door on the left had a pediatrician’s name stenciled in black. Dr. Phillip Lawrence. On the right, the same black letters announced Dr. Charles Endicott.
Less than a minute ago they had watched Endicott’s Mercedes pull into the lot and swing around back. He had evidently used a back entrance. No lights came on in the waiting room. The office door beyond remained closed.
Graham pulled on the front door, which naturally was locked. He called Endicott’s name and tugged the door a few times, rattling the glass. Seconds later he banged on it, impatient with the lack of immediate response from inside.
Sterling shuffled from one foot to the other. The half-cup of coffee he’d managed to drink churned against the lining of his stomach. In his left coat pocket sat the tiny listening device. Bugging a psychiatrist’s office. How had he gotten to this point in his life?
Again Graham banged on the door. The metal frame rattled. He called out, “Dr. Endicott? Police! Please open the door.”
Sterling had an image of himself sitting in a jail cell, sharing space with one of the many creeps he had helped to put away. He had a sudden urge to flee. Felt his heart would explode from behind his ribcage. This would be the perfect time for a heart attack. He found himself wishing for one, praying actually. But God wasn’t about to help him out of this mess.
Inside, the office door popped open and a man of about fifty stepped into the waiting room. What was left of his hair was blond and thinning. His face was round, a bit chubby. The suit hung perfectly on his stocky frame. A deep charcoal, with a pale blue shirt that matched his eyes and a multi-colored striped tie.
Endicott hesitated a few feet from the door. He eyed the two of them suspiciously. Sterling couldn’t blame the guy.
Graham held his badge up to the glass door. Endicott’s eyebrows shot up and he strode forward and twisted the lock. Graham pulled open the door. Sterling followed him inside as Graham said, “Dr. Charles Endicott?”
Endicott’s brows furrowed. “Yes?”
“Detectives Graham and Sterling. Could we have a moment of your time?”
“What’s this about?” Endicott asked.
Graham inched into Endicott’s space, crowding him slightly without it seeming intentional. He said, “We’re in the midst of a murder investigation and have reason to believe that our suspect is a patient of yours.”
Endicott didn’t flinch. “You gentlemen know I cannot divulge information about a patient.”
Just then the front door swung open and in walked a woman dressed in a business suit and looking ready to pounce on the two strangers. She had overly-dyed white-blonde hair that would probably stay in place during a hurricane and wide brown eyes that darted between the three men. Sterling knew her to be Endicott’s secretary. And, as far as Graham’s plan was concerned, her timing couldn’t have been more perfect.
Graham flashed the smile he reserved only for women. “Good morning, ma’am,” he said.
She nodded, then looked to Endicott for an explanation. Endicott said, “It’s okay, Jan. These men are police detectives.”
That explanation didn’t seem to satisfy her, although she did go to her desk and sit down. Graham turned back to Endicott and, in a voice soft and conspiratorial, said, “Can we step into your office? We’ll only take a moment of your time. However, this really is confidential.”
Sterling felt the secretary’s eyes boring into him. He stuffed his hand in his coat pocket, felt the listening device sitting there. It should be burning his fingers or something. But nothing happened, aside from the flip-flops in his stomach and the pounding in his temples.
Endicott sighed and said, “All right. Though I don’t know what help I can be to you or your investigation.”
Graham and Sterling followed Endicott into the office. Sterling pushed the door closed behind him as the other two men wandered over to Endicott’s desk. On the opposite side of the room, a leather recliner and patterned loveseat were positioned close, with a small coffee table between them. Evidently that was the area where Endicott sat with his patients. Sterling fingered the listening device and tried to appear casual.
Graham stepped into Endicott’s space yet again. He kept his tone light, outlining a nonexistent case with an imaginary suspect. He moved around to the bookshelves, pulling Endicott’s attention with him.
Sterling wandered over to the sitting area. He kept an eye on the pair of men, making sure Endicott remained turned toward Graham, away from him. He felt as if he would vomit. Time crept so slowly it almost moved backwards. He listened to Graham weave his tale, listened to him ask Endicott’s professional
opinion, listened to the lies that would cost them both their jobs if they were caught. Then he made himself stop thinking as he pulled the bug from his pocket and stuck it on the under side of the coffee table.
Graham caught his eye. The corner of his mouth tipped up and Sterling could almost see the victory smile in his eyes. He kept up the conversation with Endicott, not wanting to arouse suspicion with an abrupt departure. They spoke for another minute or two, with Graham asking for insight into the imaginary suspect’s frame of mind. Endicott offered little, neither confirming nor denying whether he treated this suspect.
Graham made his way back around the desk, where Sterling stood as if he’d been there all along. Graham glanced at Sterling and offered a shrug. “It was worth a try,” he said. Then turning back to Endicott, he smiled and extended his hand. “My partner here told me you wouldn’t be able to help. But, you know, I had to come see for myself.”
Endicott’s expression grew smug and full of his own professionalism. He grasped Graham’s hand and they shook. He said, “I wish you both luck with your investigation.”
Sterling wiped his sweaty palm against his pants. He shook Endicott’s hand, saying, “Thanks for your time, doctor.”
Endicott walked them to the front door, ensuring they made a quick departure rather than stopping to interrogate his secretary. He wished them both a good day as they slipped out into the cold. Halfway across the parking lot, Graham began to chuckle. Vomit rose in Sterling’s throat.
Chapter 35
Ian arrived at the office less than five minutes after Lucianna. Vinnie was out digging up information. Lucianna flipped on the answering machine, brought Ian into her office, and closed the door behind them.
“What’s going on?” Ian asked. “You’re starting to make me nervous here.”
Lucianna motioned to a chair. “Sit down,” she said softly. She crossed the room and lowered herself onto the chair behind her desk. “I don’t mean to make you nervous, Ian. I just didn’t think this was something I should tell you over the phone.”
