by Karen Rose
“That’s sounds fair,” Hanson said. “So then, how is Andy Gold connected to Meredith Fallon? Or was he merely a pawn because he was friends with Linnie?”
“I’m thinking he was a pawn. I mean, Shane was targeted because Bruiser lost track of Linnie,” Scarlett said sadly. “And Tiffany was killed because of her association to Shane. It keeps coming back to Linnie, who’s out there somewhere on her own.”
“Bruiser either figured Linnie would run to Shane or that Shane would know where she would hide,” Hanson said.
“Makes sense,” Adam agreed, but something wasn’t right. He studied the timeline and saw the logic hole. “Bruiser was in Chicago when Andy Gold’s place burned down. We’re dealing with more than one person.”
“You’re right,” Isenberg said. “The suspect was in Chicago at eight thirty last night, our time, looking for Shane. He didn’t leave until at least one forty-five a.m., after he’d killed Tiffany and her mother. So who’s the other person? Voss?”
“Maybe,” Hanson said. “We’ll know once we get a search warrant for his house.”
Continuing to stare at the timeline, Adam grimaced. The restaurant hostess. Colleen Martel. Can’t believe I forgot about her. “Whoever killed Andy—whether it was Bruiser, Voss, or whoever—had to have known that Meredith would be taking Mallory to Buon Cibo yesterday afternoon. We know a man called the restaurant hostess on her cell phone and asked her to seat Meredith at that specific table, but we still don’t know who that was.”
“Did any of the girls at Mariposa know where Meredith and Mallory were going?” Scarlett asked.
Adam shook his head. “I talked to Trip right before we left the condo. He’s been at Mariposa House all afternoon talking to the girls, and they all told him no. Mallory didn’t know the name of the place until she and Meredith arrived. So it comes back to Meredith.”
“And Voss,” Hanson said. “We can see if the hostess recognizes his voice once we pick him up. We need that warrant, Lieutenant.”
Isenberg’s reply was cut off when the briefing room door swung open. Adam gaped at his cousin Dani, who stood in the doorway, uncharacteristically upset. Adam slowly capped the marker he’d been using and warily approached her. “Dani? What’s wrong?”
Isenberg frowned, clearly unhappy at the interruption. “Dr. Novak, this is not appropriate behavior. You can’t just—”
“I’ve seen the girl you’re looking for,” Dani interrupted.
Everyone else stood then and Isenberg’s expression smoothed. “Then come in, please,” she said. “Close the door behind you.”
Dani obeyed and took the chair Adam offered, putting a small box on the table.
A rape kit. Adam had seen too many in his career not to recognize one on sight. “Is that hers?” he asked. “Linnie Holmes’s?”
“She didn’t call herself that. Her ID said Denise Johnson.”
Adam leaned against the table nearest her. “Relax,” he said quietly. “You’re all wound up.” And that wasn’t like her at all. “What happened?”
Dani drew a long breath through her nose. “First, why are you looking for her?”
“She’s a person of interest,” Isenberg said, and Dani shot her an irritated look.
“I’m not stupid, Lieutenant. She’s a victim, but you’ve got her face plastered all over the Internet. I saw it as soon as I turned on my laptop this afternoon. So, since I called CPD about her rape kit last night, but nobody’d come to collect it, I decided to bring it myself. And because I did a rape kit and then stitched her up and found her a safe bed to sleep in, I’m invested. I need to be sure she is going to be treated properly when she’s found.”
“Wait.” Hanson leaned forward, his eyes lighting up. “You know where she is?”
Adam felt the same thrill, because this was the lead they’d been hoping for.
Dani blinked, as if just realizing he was there. “Oh, hi, Wyatt.” She and Deacon had been a fixture at their baseball games, back in the day. She and Hanson had even tried dating once, long before Hanson was married, but both agreed they were better as friends. She gave him a distracted smile now. “I didn’t see you. I’m sorry. Who’s this?”
“I’m Detective Currie,” Nash said with a smile. He had a way of putting people at ease that Adam had always envied. “I work with Hanson.”
“Nice to meet you.” She turned back to Adam. “Why do you want the girl?”
Adam sighed. “Dani.”
“A-dam,” she replied. “I’m serious. What’s she wanted for?”
Adam shook his head. “Nothing yet. She was in the SUV with the shooter yesterday. She called 911 anonymously this morning to tell us where to find the SUV, but it had already been moved.”
Dani closed her eyes. “I was afraid of something like that.” She looked up, first at Adam, then at Deacon, then shook her head. “She came to the clinic last night.”
“Because she’d been raped,” Adam supplied, because Dani was not easily shaken, except today she was.
“Brutally. It . . .” Dani pursed her lips. “It wasn’t the first time.”
“She may be involved in a prostitution ring at the college,” Hanson said.
Dani flinched. “God, I hope not,” she said fervently.
“Because she’s HIV positive?” Isenberg asked.
Dani covered her surprise with a slow blink. “I can’t—”
“Linnie told us,” Adam interrupted. “In the 911 call, so we’d be careful with the SUV.”
“Where is she, Dani?” Hanson asked, but gently this time.
Dani sighed again. “I took her to a shelter last night. Look, if she’s involved in something, I don’t think it’s voluntarily. I think she’s being coerced.”
“Dani,” Adam said, hunkering down so that he met her eyes, one brown and one blue. “She can identify the person who’s killed seven people in the last twenty-four hours and who shot up our van when we were driving here today. Meredith, her grandfather, and two innocent young men were riding in the back. Agent Troy was hit. He’s in the ER.”
Dani’s eyes widened. “Will he be okay?”
“Yes, but we were lucky. Dani, honey, you know me. Know us. We’ll be careful and we will do our best to bring her in unhurt. You know that.”
Dani nodded. “I know. It’s just that she’s so afraid of the man who hurt her. When you go, let Scarlett lead. You guys will terrify her. Plus, they won’t let you all into the shelter. It’s supposed to be a secret shelter.”
“We’ll be discreet,” Adam said, trying to be patient. “Please, Dani?”
She blew out a breath. “Fine. I took her to St. Ambrose’s shelter.”
“Under my uncle Trace’s church?” Scarlett asked, her brows shooting up. “You left her with seventy-year-old nuns?”
Dani frowned. “She’s not violent, Scarlett. She didn’t have any weapons and she was so weak from blood loss, fatigue, and hunger that she wasn’t a threat. Besides,” she added with total seriousness, “Sister Angela is only sixty. And Sister Jeanette kickboxes.”
Adam heard Nash cover a laugh with a cough.
Scarlett’s lips twitched. “Fair enough. They are tough old birds.”
Isenberg cleared her throat. “Next steps, Adam?”
“Scarlett and I will go to get Linnie,” he said. “Gently,” he added when Dani opened her mouth. “We’ll bring her in and Hanson and Nash can observe her in interview.” He sped on when Hanson and Nash opened their mouths. “We’re not going to send a delegation. But we will take backup. How many exits out of the church?” he asked Scarlett.
“At least five,” Scarlett said. “You need a delegation just to cover all the exits.”
“All right,” Adam muttered. “Hanson and Deacon take the back exits, but only Scarlett and I approach the door. Nash, can you stay and search for Jolee’s car?�
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Nash looked up from his laptop. “Already on it.”
Dani stood up. “I’m going, too.”
“You think she’ll trust you?” Isenberg asked incredulously.
“No way in hell, not after you guys show up. But she’s my patient, so I’m going.”
Isenberg shook her head, displeased. “I can’t stop you, but stay out of their way.”
Dani nodded. “Understood.”
Adam hesitated. “What about Mrs. Voss? Penny’s only six. She’s not going to be cooperative in a counseling session for much longer.”
“I’ll observe while you’re gone.” Isenberg raised a gray brow. “I’m still capable.”
Adam inclined his head, acknowledging her point. “Okay, boss. Video it for me?”
“You got it. Now go and get Linnie.”
Adam started for the door, going through the things they hadn’t yet covered in his mind, the biggest of which was the shooting of their van. “CSU is collecting the bullets that hit our van. If I’m not back by the time they’re done, have them check ballistics against the bullet that killed Andy Gold.”
“I will,” Isenberg said. “Go.”
Chapter Nineteen
Cincinnati, Ohio
Sunday, December 20, 4:50 p.m.
“I’m sorry,” Meredith murmured, closing her hand over her grandfather’s. After leaving Dani in the conference room, she’d come back to find him staring out of the same window, the same lost expression on his face. Looking every one of his eighty-four years.
Because next week, it would be seven years since Meredith had lost her parents and he’d lost his only son. But it wasn’t anything they ever spoke about. Not since it had happened. The grief had been palpable. And he and Gran had been so worried about her.
Which she’d given them so much reason to be. At least she could make sure that he didn’t worry about her any longer. She could give him that much.
She led him to the chair where Hanson had sat the night before and pulled another chair close for herself. And then she just rested her head against his shoulder and they sat together in silence until Meredith couldn’t take it any longer.
“I’m so sorry,” she whispered.
He nuzzled her hair with his grizzled cheek. “Why?”
“Because you’re sad. And because you’ve had to put on your brave face this weekend so that nobody knows you’re sad.”
He kissed her temple. “Well, I won’t deny that it would have been more convenient if all this had happened a month from now, but . . . hey, you can’t schedule shit like this.”
She hiccupped a surprised laugh. “No, you can’t.” She sighed. “I miss them, too.”
“I know you do, baby. Your folks would have been proud of you. I know I am.” His gaze was clear and full of purpose. “You’ve been clearheaded and courageous through all this. Most people would be curled up, crying under their covers.”
“I might have been, but I haven’t had the time,” she said wryly and he chuckled.
“It has been busy. I think that’s helped. I mean, it’s horrible, but just now, when you were in that meeting? It was the first time I’d had a chance to be all alone. To think. It all kind of hit me at once, you know?”
She did know. “That’s why I keep busy.”
“Except you have to be able to deal with the quiet times, too.”
Yes, he was still worried about her. About what she might do. To herself. And that shamed her as much as it saddened her. “I am. I’m better. For real,” she added when he continued to look uncertain. “That’s what I need you to hear. And believe.”
“Because of Kimble?”
She smiled at him. “His name is Adam. And . . . no. Not really. I was okay before him. If he stays, I’ll be more okay. I can’t lie about that.”
“All right,” he said glumly.
She laughed. “Try not to look so happy about it.”
He shook his head, not laughing with her. “I’m sorry. It’s just . . . I overheard him talking on the phone. When we were out on his balcony. He was talking to his”—he dropped his voice—“sponsor.”
Meredith’s smile died. “Oh. Well, that was rude of you, Papa. That was private.”
“I know. But he hurt you and I needed to understand why. You haven’t been, you know, with anyone since Chris.”
“That’s not true,” Meredith protested. “Just no one that I introduced to you.”
He blinked, stunned. “Who?”
“None of your business. All you need to know is that I haven’t exactly been a nun.”
He winced. “Merry.”
“You went there, old man. Don’t blame me if you learn stuff that you didn’t want to know.”
He grunted. “Fair enough. But Kimble did hurt you.”
“And I now understand why and I’m okay with it. That needs to be good enough.”
“It’s not. Not when I have to pick up the pieces.”
She frowned at him. “That’s not fair.”
He looked away. “You’re right. It’s not. But it’s how I feel. And my shrink says that I’m allowed to tell you how I feel.”
“You have a shrink?” she asked, more loudly than she’d intended.
He looked around, annoyed. “You want to say that louder, child?”
“Sorry,” she stage-whispered. “You have a shrink?”
That made him laugh. “Yes. Kind of.” Then he blushed. “She’s a retired shrink.”
“Papa,” Meredith said, delighted. “You have a girlfriend?”
He shrugged, then preened. “I do. I want you to meet her after all this is done.”
She linked her arm through his and hugged it. “Tell me about her. I want to know it all. How did you meet? What’s her name? Do you go on moonlight walks on the beach?”
He rolled his eyes. “Her name is Sharon and she’s a retired psychologist. We met in a grief group. It was after your gran passed and I was . . . at loose ends.”
Meredith’s smile faltered. “She was the leader?” Because that was not cool.
“No. She was a group member. She’d just lost her husband. That was a few years ago. We started . . . you know. Dating. About a year ago.”
Meredith’s smile was cheeky. “Dating? That’s what you senior citizens are calling it?”
He blushed furiously. “Merry. That’s none of your business.”
She laughed. “You are! You’re having a . . .” She cleared her throat. “A relationship.”
He shook his head, but his mouth curved. “Yeah, I guess we are. I want you to meet her. She’s a lot like you. Fearless.”
Meredith’s eyes abruptly stung. “Papa.”
“It’s true. She’s helped me. Said we need to talk through this stuff. That I shouldn’t just come up here like I do every year and pretend like I’m not watching you like a hawk to be sure nothing bad happens.”
It was like a stab to the heart, but one she’d earned. Or that he’d earned, at least. “You told her about me?” she asked, surprised to hear that her voice had grown small.
“Yeah. I’m sorry, but . . . it all came out one night and . . .” He sighed. “I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be. You needed to tell someone and Gran’s gone. I understand.”
“Thank you.” He drew a breath. “I texted her, when you were in your meeting. Told her what I’d learned about Kimble. Told her that he said he knew you weren’t as . . . how did he put it? As impervious to hurt as everyone thought. And that he’d do his best not to hurt you any more. But I’m afraid, Merry. Honestly. He has issues that could exacerbate yours.”
She wanted to snap at him. Wanted to be angry that he’d shared Adam’s secrets with a person she’d never even met. But his face was so open, so vulnerable in a way she hadn’t seen in so many years. So she drew a br
eath of her own. “What did she say?”
“That I shouldn’t assume. That I should tell you that I’m afraid. And . . .” He sighed heavily. “That I should trust you. That you sounded like you had a firm grip on things.”
Good of her, Meredith thought irritably, then swept the irritation away. This woman had given him what he’d needed. “Papa, listen to me, because I’m only going to say this once. Imagine what would have happened if I’d had to go through all that horrible stuff back then alone. If I hadn’t had you and Gran and Alex.”
He shuddered. “I don’t want to imagine.”
“I know. Think about Adam going through something just as awful, but all alone.”
He frowned. “He has family.”
“Yes, and some of them would have been as supportive as you. But not all. And the ones who weren’t? Theirs were the voices he heard. He tried to deal with something truly horrific on his own. He’s dealing, and I’m okay with how he’s done so. You need to be, too.”
Her grandfather closed his eyes. “Okay,” he said and sounded like he meant it.
“Papa?” She waited until he opened his eyes. “I’m fine. I really am. And I have a shrink, too.”
His eyes widened. “You do?”
She smiled at him. “Yes. Someone I can talk to when things get shitty.”
“Your friend Faith?”
“No, because she’s my friend. My shrink is an official shrink. A psychiatrist. I mean, I like her, but we don’t socialize. I’ve been seeing her for a few years now and she monitors my meds. She’s good. Just wanted you to know that.”
He smiled. “That settles my mind more than anything else you’ve said.”
