by Polly Iyer
“I did. The ones who got back to me didn’t notice a titanium wedding band on any of their officers. A few didn’t know what titanium looked like.”
“Maybe one of the others will hit pay dirt.”
“You still think there’s a cabal of sorts?”
Nodding, Lucier said, “I do. At this point, the whole force is suspect.”
Craven laughed. When he noticed Lucier’s solemn expression, he said, “You’re serious?”
“An exaggeration, but there are more people involved than I originally thought. Fortunately, they’re taking out their own people for damage control. Makes our job easier.”
Craven seemed to consider that. “What’s your plan now?”
“If the boss approves, I’ll take a few days coming to me to get my strength back and hope Diana and I don’t get killed in the interim.”
“You’re staying with her?”
“Yes.”
“I’ll assign a patrolman to keep watch.”
“Thanks. Cash is with her now.”
“Good. Take care, Ernie, and keep me informed of your next move.”
“Will do.”
Craven left, leaving Lucier alone with his thoughts of cops killing not only bad guys but cops too.
* * * * *
“I’d rather keep you for observation another day or two,” Doctor Golden said.
“But you’re going to let me go because you know for a fact I’ll be safer at home than here. The hospital can neither afford nor is it equipped to police the police, not to mention the men in blue guarding me would scare your patients.”
The doctor released a long sigh. “Unfortunately, you’re right.”
“What about my assailant? Is he dead?”
“No, but he’s critical.”
“I’ve ordered a guard on his room.”
“You mean someone might want to kill him?”
“If he survives, he’s got the answers we need. His partners in crime won’t want him to talk.”
“That means he’s not the end of your problems?”
Lucier shook his head. “No.”
“Hate to hear that.” Golden unwrapped Lucier’s bandages and inspected the wound. “Bet you had some pain. Looks like you tugged at your stitches.”
“No pain.”
Golden gave him a steely glare. “Liar.”
“Okay, a little,” Lucier admitted.
“I’ll have the nurse change your bandages. She’ll give you instructions, and I expect you to follow them. I don’t want to see you in the ER with an infection.”
“I promise.”
“She’ll be right in. Good luck, Lieutenant. I hope you find whoever wants you dead before he finds you.”
I hope we find Feldman’s son before it’s too late.
Chapter Thirty-One
The Worst Case Scenario
Diana let Willy Cash into her house shortly after six a.m. He examined the doors and windows, closing all the blinds, checked the outside heating and air units, and searched both inside and out for bugs. When he cleared her house, he sat down at the kitchen table and ate the bacon and eggs Diana prepared. After, he delved into paperwork.
Diana carried on with housework she’d put off all week. Every so often, Cash checked the front of the house and the back. To her delight, Lucier called around ten to inform her that the doctor would release him after lunch. She removed the freshly washed linens from the dryer and made the bed in the guestroom. Then she cut up ingredients for a pot of beef stew and put them on the stove to cook.
“There has to be something I can do, Willy. Some way I can find out who’s committing these murders.”
“If Marty Feldman lives, we wouldn’t need you, but if not …” Cash left the sentence hanging. “You do great with dead bodies.”
Diana’s eyes opened wide, and “Willy!” came out in a high-pitched voice. “Doing great with dead bodies? Aargh! What does that say about me?”
“I didn’t mean anything bad. I mean, you’re great at what you do.” He groaned. “I should probably shut up now.”
Diana would have laughed if the situation weren’t so grave. “Ernie didn’t mention Feldman might die.”
“I sure hope he doesn’t, and not only to get a line on who’s behind this. Cops don’t like shooting people, despite what some think. I know one cop who had terrible PTSD after he killed someone.”
“Oh, dear.” Diana thought a minute. “Maybe if we get something of Feldman’s son, a cap or T-shirt ―”
“And you find out where he is? That’s a great idea, but first his mother has to admit he’s missing.”
Scowling, Diana said, “Why would she hide that?”
“Because they used the kid as a pawn to make Feldman kill the lieutenant, and they might not let him go.”
“Poor woman must be beside herself crazy.”
“She’s foolish, that’s for sure.” When the doorbell rang, Cash said, “I’ll go. You stay put, Florence Nightingale.”
Diana laughed out loud. “That’s me. Gonna nurse my man.”
When Cash called back that Beecher and Lucier were at the door, she hurried to greet them. She stood on tiptoes to kiss Lucier, who lifted her chin to kiss her so he didn’t have to bend down. His pale face concerned her. “How are you?”
He shuffled to the sofa. “Good. I’m good. I’m also hungry, and I want whatever that terrific smell is coming from the kitchen. The food in that hospital is enough to keep people sick and in the hospital.”
“Beef stew will be ready soon. Now come on, sit down on the sofa. Florence will fetch you a cup of coffee and some toast.”
Lucier looked around. “Who’s Florence?”
Cash blushed. “An inside joke. I called her Florence Nightingale.”
Lucier laughed, then winced as he eased himself down into the cushions. “Crouching in the bathroom last night didn’t speed my recovery. Any news of Feldman’s son?”
“His wife insists her kid isn’t missing. She says he’s with his grandparents on vacation.” Beecher scoffed. “You know that’s bullshit. Someone told her if she talked, they’d kill the boy.”
“What I figured,” Cash said.
“Let’s hope Feldman pulls through,” Lucier said. “I told the doctor to call me immediately if his condition changes, one way or the other. Sam, I want you at the hospital. If Feldman dies, you break the news to Mrs. Feldman.”
“Even if Feldman lives, he won’t talk if his son’s life is in danger,” Beecher said. “And if the kid can identify his abductors, he will die.”
Lucier repositioned himself. “Tell me something I don’t know.”
“Why can’t Diana find the boy?” Cash asked.
Lucier glanced at her with a hopeful expression.
“You know I can’t promise anything,” Diana said, “but I’m willing to try. First, Mrs. Feldman has to admit her son is missing, then we need her permission to let me try and find him.”
“Someone must have threatened her,” Beecher said. “I know my wife would keep her mouth shut if this happened to one of our kids. She’d be scared to say anything.”
“Maybe if I went to see her,” Diana said. “Time might be important.”
“We’ll arrange to take you to her house. If we can convince her that she’s gambling with her son’s life, she may help. Diana can’t go to the hospital. We might as well make a public announcement. When you leave the house, Willy will be with you.”
“Don’t worry. I’m not going out alone. One bullet whizzing by my head is enough to last me a lifetime.”
“Go back to the hospital, Sam. If Feldman dies, you have to convince the doctor and everyone else to keep the news quiet. Tell him to call me if he resists.” Lucier sniffed the air. “Is that stew ready? I’m starved.”
* * * * *
Lucier woke at the steady beep of his phone. He’d fallen asleep on the sofa and was alone. He checked the readout. Beecher.
“Feldman died a few minutes ago
,” Beecher said. “Dr. Havel said they did all they could, but the damage was too extensive. Sorry, Ernie.”
The wonderful beef stew he’d devoured earlier lay like a block of cement in his stomach. He hated hearing about Feldman for many reasons, not the least of which was another dead cop, one he killed.
“Is his wife still there?”
“She is.”
“Does she know about her husband?”
“Havel told her. She’s distraught. I brought up her son, and don’t worry, I was sympathetic and considerate.”
Lucier wanted to scoff at Beecher’s attempt at self-awareness but held back. “And?”
“She started to deny the boy was missing, but when I said he was in danger now that her husband had passed, she broke down completely. I told her our plan and how Diana wanted to find her son. Her sister was there, and they went into a huddle, finally agreeing. Ernie, I don’t think I’d make a good grief counselor, but I did good today.”
“Excellent, Sam. I need to talk to Dr. Havel. Is he around anywhere?”
“Saw him a minute ago. Let me check at the desk.” After a moment, Beecher came back on the line. “He’s here. I’ll hand you over.”
“What can I do for you, Lieutenant?” Lucier recognized the impatient tone.
“I need you to keep Feldman’s death quiet, Doctor, except for his family and the medical personnel involved.” Lucier explained the dilemma of Feldman’s missing son. “If the men who took the boy think Feldman is still alive, his son may have some time. The kid’s their ace in the hole. If they know Feldman is dead, they’ll have no use for him. They might let him go if they haven’t shown themselves, but we have no way of knowing.”
“I see.” There was a long pause. “Keeping this quiet won’t be easy. This is a hospital, and news travels fast, especially with the press hanging around every time there’s a police-related incident. Since Feldman has been in the ICU, which is relatively isolated, we may have a chance to keep his death from leaking. I’ll see what I can do and let you know. Sorry, Lieutenant, I know how you must feel.”
Lucier thanked the doctor and broke the connection. No, you don’t, doctor. I’ve killed a man, maybe an innocent pawn. He felt worse from that than from the wound paining his chest.
He called Cash and told him to come to Diana’s right away. The boy’s captors would kill him. They’d already killed two cops and who knew how many others to carry out their twisted brand of justice. He wouldn’t take bets they wouldn’t kill an innocent boy who could blow their scheme to smithereens.
“Did I hear your phone?” Diana said.
“Huh? Oh, yeah. Feldman died a few minutes ago.”
Diana lowered herself into the armchair. “Oh, no. I’m so sorry, Ernie. I hoped he’d pull through.”
“Me too.”
She reached to touch him. “He would have killed you. He shot into the bed, thinking you were under the covers. You can’t feel guilt over that.”
“I know, but I do. I should have shot him in the knee or arm, somewhere other than a killing zone.”
“Even after he knew you weren’t in the bed, he still tried to kill you. You told him to drop the gun, and he turned to shoot again. It was him or you, and I’m glad it was him.”
Lucier scrubbed his chin stubble. “Everything you say is true. That doesn’t make me feel any better.” He explained what he asked the doctor to do.
“Who told his wife?” Diana asked.
“The doctor. Sam told her about your plan to help find her boy. She agreed.”
Diana sighed. “Okay. Should I go to the hospital?”
“No. If any reporters or news hounds staked there see you, all hell will break loose. Sam will take Mrs. Feldman home. Cash will drive you to her house.”
“Okay.”
“If news about Feldman breaks, and the kid has seen his abductors, he’s dead. We need to get to him before that happens. You’re our best chance. Maybe our only one.”
Diana tsked. “Don’t put that pressure on me, Ernie. You know that makes me nervous.”
“Sorry. I’m not thinking about political correctness now. I’m thinking about saving a boy’s life.”
“You’re right, but don’t you have to get permission from Craven for me to go?”
“Yes, but I’m not going to.”
She stared at him a long time. “I thought you made a deal with him.”
Oh, yeah. “I did, but the fewer people who know what we’re doing, the better.”
“Do you think your captain is involved?”
“No, but someone higher than Chenault is. He wouldn’t follow just anyone. He was too much of an egomaniac and control freak. But if the right person appealed to his sense of revenge, knowing or suspecting what he did to his father, he would, and did. If I tell Craven, he might confide to someone he trusts, and word might spread. Then there’s the leaker or leakers. I can’t allow this news to get out. For the safety of everyone involved, including Feldman’s kid, I’ll keep this within our group. I’ll deal with the reprimand later, which I’ll deserve.”
Chapter Thirty-Two
Circling Birds
As a child, when Diana’s psychic ability failed her, she blamed herself. As she grew to understand her rare gift, she accepted her fallibility. Success or failure was out of her control.
“You look nervous,” Willy Cash said.
“I remember doing this when I was a kid, only then the police brought me an article from the missing person. I rarely confronted those looking for their lost kin. I’m not looking forward to facing Mrs. Feldman, especially when her husband is accused of attempted murder, not to mention dead.”
“She obviously didn’t know him well.”
“What if he had nothing to do with the revenge murders? What if they abducted his son solely for the purpose of blackmailing him into killing Ernie?”
“Then whoever is behind these murders is worse than we thought. It’s one thing to take out a bad guy ― and being honest, that’s one more person off the street who might harm someone else ― but their intentions, good or bad, have escalated to eliminating people who could expose them. I still fear for you and the lieutenant.”
Diana didn’t need to hear that. Willie Cash was a good cop, but he was the youngest and least experienced on Lucier’s team. Who was looking after the love of her life, alone and injured in her house?”
“Call Halloran to go to my place and stay with Ernie. He’s by himself and in no condition to protect himself.”
Cash hummed thoughtfully. “I didn’t think of that, and if the Lieutenant did, he wouldn’t say anything.”
With his Bluetooth phone connected to his ear, Cash speed-dialed Halloran to ask if he could stay with Lucier. “Don’t let him think we’re babysitting him. He won’t like that.” He listened. “Okay, I will.”
“What did he say?” Diana asked.
“He’s checking out a shooting per captain’s orders. Beecher is at Mrs. Feldman’s. He’ll go to your place when we get there.”
Diana sighed. “I feel better. Ernie’s not used to needing help, but now he’s hurt and he knows it.”
“He’s lucky to be alive.”
Diana set her gaze outside the window. So am I. Lucier had saved her life, and he could have been killed in the process. They drove the rest of the way to the Feldman house in silence. When they reached their destination, one car sat in the driveway. Beecher had parked on the street.
“Glad to see the place isn’t overrun with reporters. That means they don’t know Feldman is dead.”
“Relax, Diana,” she said aloud.
“They have her son,” Cash said. “She’ll want to see you.”
Diana blew out a breath. “Okay, let’s get this over with.”
The front door opened before Diana and Cash got there. A heavyset woman with short dark hair and a ruddy complexion answered the door.
“Ms. Racine. I’m Marilyn Chase, Sheila’s sister. I’m happy you’re here.”
She turned to Cash.
“Detective William Cash.” He offered his hand and said, “Sorry for your loss.”
She snorted. “Don’t be sorry for my loss. I couldn’t stand Marty. That’s no secret. My sister and I are both distraught ― about Alan, not Marty.”
Whoa. Diana reeled inwardly at this unexpected wrinkle. Maybe they’d learn more about Marty Feldman today than they’d anticipated.
“Come inside,” Marilyn Chase said. She led them through the entry and down a hall to the kitchen. “I’ve given Sheila a tranquilizer. She gathered some things of Alan’s for you, Ms. Racine.”
“Call me Diana.”
“Glad you guys are here,” Beecher said. “I’ll go to my next assignment.” He winked as he headed for the door. Cash spoke to him quietly, then Beecher left and Cash joined Diana.
The woman sitting at a round wooden table looked like a blonde Marilyn Chase, minus a few years. Appearing dazed, she stood when they entered. A final dab at her puffy red eyes, and Sheila Feldman tucked the tissue into her pocket. She shuffled toward Diana and held out both hands.
“Ms. Racine. Thank you so much for coming.”
Diana latched on to the woman’s icy-cold hands, receiving nothing from her touch but anxiety about her son. “Lieutenant Lucier had hoped your husband could help identify the person behind this. I’m so sorry for your loss.”
The sisters exchanged glances. “Marty and I had our differences and lived separate lives. Still, I’m sorry he’s dead. I would’ve called the police when I found out my son was missing, but Marty warned me not to. He said they’d kill Alan if I did. Then he said he had things under control.” She snickered. “I guess saving his son meant taking another man’s life.”
“Did he mention any names? Give any hint who might be behind the kidnapping?”
“No. I begged and screamed and cried, but he wouldn’t talk. At that moment I could have killed Marty myself. He knew who took Alan. He knew.” She chewed on her bottom lip. “Marty was the kind of cop who loved power over people, and he was the same way as a husband. He loved Alan, I’ll give him that. Whoever took him knew Alan was Marty’s Achilles heel.”
