by C. D. Hersh
Chapter 13
A file folder dropping on her desk caught Delaney’s attention. “What’s this?”
“Alexi’s new information.” Harry glanced toward the outer office and lowered his voice. “Wasn’t easy, but I got a Jane Doe and fixed the papers. Have you got the mask yet?”
“My friend from LA is coming in today. The mask should be ready in a couple of days. We have to keep the body under wraps until then. Where is it?”
“The coroner has it on ice waiting. Are we going to place the mask on there?”
“No. Too much risk someone could come in on us. Eli knows a man who owns a funeral home.” She wrote something on a piece of paper and slid it across the desk. “Have the body sent here, without the false papers. I’ll take them over myself.”
Harry picked the paper off the desk and frowned. “Are you sure we can trust this mortician?”
“I trust him more than your coroner.” Eli’s contact was a member of the Turning Stone Society and would ask no questions. Harry still didn’t seem convinced. “Relax, Harry. Everything will be fine.”
“Easy for you to say. Your butt’s not on the line with the city.”
“Neither is yours. This is a FBI manhunt. That’s enough to cover you. I promise I won’t let you take any heat for this. Okay?” She gave him what she hoped was a convincing smile.
He returned the smile. “I’m holding you to that.”
“You do that.” She focused on her desk, expecting him to move away but he didn’t. “Something else on your mind?” she asked, glancing at him.
“Yeah. You,” he said, with a stupid grin.
Her stomach flopped over like a netted fish, and she quickly lowered her gaze to hide her satisfaction.
“About the other night,” he began.
“Sorry. The photo distracted me. I really hadn’t planned for the evening to end that way.”
“Really? What had you planned?” he asked in a husky voice.
She peered at him through her eyelashes. “Dessert? Just a little bit.” She heard his quick intake of breath.
“Dessert’s good. How about tonight?” His gaze left hers and traveled down her chest.
A rush of goosebumps covered her at his bold perusal, and her nipples hardened, the tips rubbing against her lacy bra. She fought the urge to cover them. She wanted Harry to know how she felt: she was into him and she wanted this relationship to go somewhere.
He smiled at her body’s reaction, and lightly touched her arm.
She shivered from the caress and crossed her arms protectively.
“Too late, hon,” Harry said softly. “You’ve shown me what I need to know. Is your daughter going to be home tonight or would you rather come to my place for dinner?”
“Lila’s will be fine. I’ll provide dinner.”
He shook his head. “Not if you’re dessert. I’ll cook.”
The door flew open, and he jerked to attention as Gladys burst in. “A body surfaced at Settler’s Landing.”
Delaney’s heart leapt into her throat. Lila? “Man or woman?”
“Man,” Gladys replied. “They want you down there.”
Harry moved toward the door then stopped and glanced over his shoulder at Delaney. “You coming?”
She shoved Alexi’s file under her laptop and closed the drawer, grateful her heart had settled back into her chest. “Sure.”
Yellow tape cordoned off the crime scene, and the sun glinted off the river. Harry and Delaney got out of their cars, pushed through the crowd milling around, and went straight to where the body lay.
“What’ve you got?” Harry asked, as he squatted beside the body. “Homicide?”
The coroner nodded. “See these bruises?” he said, pointing to the discolored skin at the base of the neck. “He was strangled before he got dumped in the river.”
“How long ago?”
“Maybe a month. The deterioration from the water makes it hard to pinpoint.”
A month. That’s how long Lila has been missing. Delaney stepped closer to the body. “Any ID on him?”
“Nothing yet. I’ll send his dental records out and see if they get any hits.”
“Fingerprints?” Harry asked.
The coroner lifted the dead man’s hand and grimaced. “Maybe we can get a partial. The fish nibbled at most of his digits.”
“A partial would narrow the search,” Harry said. “See what you can do.”
“Will do, Captain.”
Harry started to leave, but Delaney stood staring thoughtfully at the dead man. “Something on your mind, Ramsey?” he asked.
“I’m wondering if this is connected to all the other weird homicides you’ve had or if it’s unrelated. What number is this homicide?”
“The thirteenth one this month, if my count is right. But we don’t know if this one is connected to the other double personality ones. Could be in the normal realm of the city’s homicide count if he was killed last month.”
“Maybe,” she said.
He studied her. “You got a gut feeling on this one?”
She did, but it wasn’t something she could discuss. Why had Lila’s disappearance been the first thing to jump into her mind when she heard how long he’d been dead? The coincidental timeline? Or because she expected every dead body to be Lila?
“Ramsey?” Harry asked when she didn’t reply. “You okay?”
“I will be.” When I find out what happened to Lila. “Make sure I get the reports on this one.”
“Even if they don’t fall into the weird category?”
“Yes.” She moved away from the body and started to leave.
“Where you going?” he asked, catching up to her.
“To take care of those papers we talked about earlier. You fix things on this end, okay?”
“Will do. You returning to the precinct when you’re done?”
“Maybe, after I stop by and see Rhys.”
Harry leaned in close. “Let me know so I can get things ready for tonight-steak, potatoes, et cetera.”
“I’ve got a stocked fridge,” she replied. “All you need to bring is yourself.”
“What about whipped cream for dessert?”
“I prefer chocolate.” Her cheeks heated.
He gulped, his Adam’s apple bobbing in his throat. “Chocolate it is,” he whispered, as a flush Delaney thought matched hers crept across his neck.
She swiveled on her heel and left, grateful no one she knew could see her.
At the precinct, Delaney went to see Gladys. “I have something I need you to get for me.”
Gladys swiveled in her desk chair and gave her a cold smile. “Captain says I’m to cooperate fully with anything you want, FBI.”
Tipping her head, Delaney accessed the woman. “You don’t like me much, do you?”
“Nothing personal. We don’t need outside help to solve our problems. Yours or Riley’s. Not that she’s doing much of anything to help. She’s too busy trying to stick her bitch hound butt on Rhys.”
Delaney bit her lip to keep from smiling. Gladys had a pretty accurate take on Sylvia. “You don’t pull any punches, do you?”
“I call them as I see them, sugar. Especially when it comes to Rhys.” She gave Delaney a sidelong glance. “You don’t happen to know when he’s coming back, do you?”
“Not until after the funeral.”
“Which is?”
“Still being worked on.”
Gladys gave an irritated grunt. “I don’t know how they expect me to send flowers if no one will give me any information.”
“I’m sure Harry-” Gladys cocked a questioning eyebrow at Delaney’s use of Harry’s Christian name. She had to be careful or the whole office w
ould be talking. “The captain,” she hastened to say, “will let you know as soon as he does.”
“Humph!” Gladys rotated toward her computer. “What do you need, Agent Ramsey?”
Delaney wrote the address of Lila’s apartment and the corresponding cross streets on a pink, heart-shaped adhesive note lying on Gladys’ desk. “Get me any street cam footage you can from this area for the last month.”
“What am I looking for?”
“Just get it.”
Gladys glanced at the note then set it aside.
Delaney pushed it toward her. “Now, Gladys. I’ll come for it this afternoon.”
“Whatever you say, sugar,” she replied in saccharine tones as she typed the address into her computer.
Sylvia slipped into the captain’s office, closed the blinds, went straight to Delaney’s desk, and opened the file drawer. Williams told her Delaney was here to help with her Homeland Security terrorists investigations, the bogus ones he didn’t know she’d counterfeited. She needed to find out what Delaney was really after.
Sylvia skimmed through the files in the desk drawer. Nothing but some recent reports on dual-person sightings. Everything in Delaney’s files pointed to what Williams had told her, but Sylvia’s gut said different. Delaney wasn’t here about fake terrorist sightings. She spotted Delaney’s purse in the rear of the drawer and rifled through it. Nothing revealing, except a condom stuck in the back of a billfold. A thin layer of pocketbook lint covered the plastic wrapper. Sylvia sniggered. Agent Ramsey wasn’t getting any. No wonder she was cross all the time.
Sylvia shoved the billfold into the purse and crammed it into the rear of the drawer, shoving it closed with a bang. The rattle of the closing drawer pushed the computer keyboard drawer out, exposing a file folder stashed beneath the laptop. Sylvia retrieved the folder and opened it. A death certificate. For Alexi! Quickly, she thumbed her cell phone camera on and took a picture of the certificate. As the camera clicked, she felt the approach of another shifter. She flipped the folder shut, jamming it under the computer as she slipped her phone into her pocket. The door handle rattled. She reached for the desk pen and ripped a piece of paper off the pad on the corner of the desk.
As Sylvia put pen to paper Delaney entered. She raised her head and met Delaney’s stare as she approached the desk. “You’re here,” Sylvia said brightly, placing the pen and paper aside. “I was leaving you a note.” The downward quirk of Delaney’s mouth said she didn’t believe a word Sylvia spoke.
“Really? About what?”
“I wanted to know when Rhys was coming back to work.”
“Why ask me?”
Delaney’s aura flared as she glared at Sylvia.
She stood and moved to the front of the desk, trying to act innocent to mask her own aura. Pushing a stack of folders aside, she perched one hip on the corner of the desk. “Why not? You seem to know more about Rhys’ whereabouts than anyone else in the office. You planning on going after him since Alexi’s gone?”
Delaney laughed. “He’s young enough to be my son.”
“Wouldn’t stop me.”
“So I hear.”
“What else do you hear?”
“That’s need to know.”
“I need to know.” Sylvia slid onto the top of the desk and crossed her legs, swinging her bottom foot against the side. Delaney appeared annoyed at the rhythmic rap of high heels tapping metal. Sylvia kept swinging her foot, tired of the cat and mouse games. The red in Delaney’s aura flared, muddying in anger. “You’re not really here because of my terrorist hunt, are you?”
A gray, smoky color darkened Delaney’s aura. As quickly as the change had come it left, her red and green ring aura settling into place. Her face smoothed into practiced, noncommittal features. An expression Sylvia had seen in her own mirror when she was trying to conceal her true emotions.
What was she hiding? Whatever it was it wasn’t pleasant, maybe even depressing. She changed tactics. “Why don’t we get it all out in the open, Delaney? You tell me why you’re here, and I’ll tell you.”
“You first,” Delaney said.
“A show of good faith? Okay.” Sylvia pushed off the desk and stood toe-to-toe with her. “I came here for Baron Jordan’s ring.” Delaney didn’t react. “But you knew that, didn’t you? Your turn.”
“I’m here because of Alexi.”
Delaney’s aura didn’t waver. She was telling the truth. “Since she’s dead, I guess you’ll be leaving?”
“Not until you do.”
Sylvia retreated. “Well, I’ll be seeing you around then.” She waggled her fingers at Delaney. “I still don’t have the ring I came for, so.” She let the sentence trail off as she waltzed out the door, leaving her opponent to come to her own conclusions.
Knees shaking like aspen leaves in the wind, Delaney sank onto the edge of the desk. She hated confrontation. She especially hated confronting evil, necessary as it might be. She moved around the desk and opened the file drawer to retrieve her purse. When she’d removed it, she noticed the charm on the front of the purse faced the front of the drawer. Certain she’d placed it in the drawer with the initial charm to the rear, she studied the bag in her hand for a minute.
Sylvia! She had her purse out! Quickly, Delaney rifled through the contents. Nothing missing. Then she remembered the file under her laptop. Jerking the computer drawer open, she let out a shaky breath. The folder still lay underneath. She checked for the certificate. Still there. Thank goodness there had been no information about the body’s destination. She dialed Harry on her cell phone.
“Williams,” he said.
“This is Delaney. Someone came into the office and went through my purse.” No need to tell him who she suspected.
“You okay?” he asked. “Did they take anything?”
“No, but they might have seen the file on Alexi. Get back here and get the body out of the morgue. Now!”
“Wouldn’t it be quicker for you to do it since you’re there already?”
“They might be watching. Don’t use anyone from the coroner for transport. Call the number I gave you. And, Harry, stay with the body. I’ll meet you at the funeral home when I’m sure it’s clear.”
She dialed Eli, telling him what happened. Then she grabbed her purse and Alexi’s file, stuffed it into her briefcase, and headed out the door, her shifter sensing powers tuned to high. On the edge of her radar, she sensed a shifter. Since Rhys wasn’t around, it had to be Sylvia. Resisting the urge to locate her, Delaney forced herself to walk out of the precinct as casually as possible, walking toward Lila’s apartment.
The shifter sensation stayed with her, ebbing and flowing as the crowded sidewalks pushed her tail closer or farther away. At one point the sensation disappeared, and Delaney took the opportunity to steal a glance to her right as she rounded a corner. She caught a glimpse of Sylvia as she ducked behind a large, waddling woman about thirty feet away, just out of shifter sensing range.
As she slowed her pace by half, Sylvia came around the corner. Delaney’s shifter sense jumped into high. Lengthening her stride, she increased her pace and Sylvia followed suit.
Delaney smiled to herself. She’d lure Sylvia to the apartment parking garage then lose her by jumping into Lila’s car and driving off. Wetting the tip of her index finger, she swiped it in the air in front of her chest. This round goes to the good guys.
Chapter 14
Eli stood on the porch of the old Victorian house that served as a funeral home, waiting. “Did the she-witch get anything?” he asked as Delaney approached.
“I can’t say for sure. But she was definitely hunting, and she followed me out of the precinct.”
His glance swung down the tree-lined street.
“Don’t worry. I ditched her,” Delaney said as he push
ed open the business entrance door to the funeral home. A bell jangled upon their entry and the smell of flowers drifted out and filled her nose. She swiped at it to keep from sneezing. She hated the smell of funeral parlors.
