Cover Me

by Margaret Watson

  Sobieski shook her head. "Didn't have a chance. He took off before I ran the prints." She frowned. "Said he was taking his lunch break, but it wasn't his usual time. And he grabbed the DNA swab from Welles and said he'd drop it off at the lab afterward."

  "What's wrong with that?" Cilla asked quietly. Her calf pressed against his, as if she needed to be touching him, too.

  "He hates going to the lab. Avoids it at all costs." Sobieski tapped her fingers on the white surface of the table as she watched them. "It's next to the morgue, and the morgue creeps him out. Wuss can't even watch an autopsy. So I wondered why he offered."

  Brendan didn't look at Cilla. But he could feel the tension rolling off her. "Maybe he wanted a longer lunch break," he said.

  "Wouldn't take one by volunteering for the lab run. And he knows I'm not going to bust his chops if he takes an extra fifteen minutes." She twirled the coffee cup on the Formica table. "Another thing. Welles's high-power attorney showed up pretty damn fast last night. Less than an hour after he was booked. He wanted to have Welles transported downtown for an immediate bond hearing. I refused, but it looked as if Derek would have said yes.

  "I did some checking on Mr. Welles." Her mouth tightened. "I'm guessing you did the same. Glen Larson was the night court judge last night. Sound familiar?"

  "Oh, my God." Cilla leaned forward. "You noticed that in his court cases, too."

  "Sure did. Larson and Peter Drake. He ended up in their courtrooms way too often. I wasn't about to let Larson grant Welles bail." Her jaw worked. "If Welles is our serial rapist, we need to keep him locked up. Six women have been raped in our district. That I know of." She glanced at Cilla. "You would have made seven.

  "Beverly is a low-crime area, except for the serial rapist. And I suspect we've caught him, thanks to you. So were you two looking for him?" Her gaze shifted from Brendan to Cilla. "Or is there something else going on?"

  "I'm sorry." Cilla's voice was quiet. Filled with real regret. "We can't tell you that."

  Sobieski studied them for a long moment, then nodded. "Didn't figure you would. Thought it was worth a shot, though." She took another sip of coffee. "I took a second swab from Welles. Told him I'd dropped the other one. I took it to the lab on my way over here."

  Cilla stilled beside him, then sat up straight. "Why did you do that?"

  "This is a big case. We've been chasing this rapist for a long time. I don't want anything to screw it up," she said carefully. "That's what I told the tech at the lab. That we took two samples, the A and the B. The one I took was the B sample. She agreed to run both of them."

  "How long will it take to get the results back?" Brendan asked.

  "Shouldn't take long." Sobieski's smile was grim. "I told the tech it was a rape case. A friend of hers was raped a few years ago, and the guy was never caught. She said she'd rush it through. I'm hoping we can hold onto Welles until we get the results. I'm going to be in court today. Try to keep them from granting bail."

  "Good luck." Brendan slid out of the booth, held out his hand to help Cilla. "Keep us posted." He stood next to the table and stared down at Sobieski. "Can we trust you to keep your mouth shut about us? We don't want to have to start this op over with different people."

  Sobieski nodded. "Yeah. I won't say a thing." She hesitated, looked from one of them to the other. "Not even to Derek."

  "Thank you." Brendan felt Cilla's exhale of relief. "I wish we could tell you what we're doing."

  "Yeah, I get it. Good luck." She smiled. "Maybe I'll run into you when this is over and you can fill me in."

  "I'll make sure of it." Cilla paused, then said, "We can tell you one thing now, though. Watch your back."

  The two women's gazes locked and held for a long moment. Then Sobieski nodded. "Thanks. I will."

  She shook Cilla's hand, then Brendan's, and slid out of the booth. "Got to get to court before that asshole gets bail."

  Brendan watched the woman weave her way through the tables and head out the door. Then he turned to Cilla. "You want to finish breakfast?"

  "Cold eggs?" She shuddered. "No, thanks."

  "Let's go, then."

  Neither of them spoke until they were in his car and heading north. "What the hell is going on in the 22nd?" Brendan said once they were on Lake Shore Drive again.

  Cilla was staring out the windshield. She didn't turn to look at him. "You want to bet on whether those two swabs from Welles are going to match?"

  "God, I hope they do. Otherwise..." He shook his head. He didn't want to think about the implications if the swabs didn't match. Or if the first one never showed up at the lab.

  "Jonhstone's a cop," Cilla said, her voice rising. "And he's helping a rapist get away?"

  "Maybe he did drop off the sample," Brendan said. "Maybe he was just looking for some extra time to help Welles's lawyer."

  "I hate this." Cilla stared out the windshield, her hands fisted on her thighs. "We started out looking for a drug dealer. Cut and dried. Now we don't know who to trust. We've got at least three cops from the 22nd and one DEA agent in our sights."

  "I'm right there with you, Cilla. We need to get this drug case closed. Right away."

  "So we can investigate Johnstone?" He heard the pain in her voice. "Other cops from the 22nd? Romano?"

  "One thing at a time," he said. "We focus on the drug case."

  They drove around the curve of the museum campus and straightened out next to the lake. A handful of sailboats skimmed across the water, and a flock of ducks paddled close to shore. Normal autumn sights. The sun glittered off the waves. He reached for his sunglasses.

  "Get off the Drive," Cilla said suddenly as they passed Navy Pier.

  "How come?"

  "That guy who overdosed in the pub's parking lot. He's at Northwestern Memorial Hospital. Let's go see if he's awake. If he remembers anything."

  "Sure, we can check." He changed lanes and got off at the stop light at Ontario. "But they'd have told us if he was awake," he reminded her.

  "I need to do something."

  "Yeah, I get it." She'd needed to do something last night, too. Today, though, he'd be prepared if she tried to pull a dangerous stunt.

  Five minutes later they parked in front of the hospital and Brendan put a police ID on the dashboard. As he turned off the ignition, Cilla grabbed his arm. "Isn't that the girlfriend?" She nodded toward a woman walking slowly past their car.

  "Yeah, I think it is."

  He snatched the police ID card off the dashboard and slid it beneath the seat, then they hurried after the woman. Cilla reached her first.

  "Hey, Penny," she said. Brendan wondered how Cilla knew the woman's name. He didn't remember hearing it. "We were visiting someone at the hospital and we saw you. Do you remember us? From the pub the night your boyfriend got sick?"

  Penny's face was pale, and dark shadows purpled her eyes. Her hair was pulled into a pony tail and looked as if it hadn't been washed in a few days.

  She studied them for a moment, then her expression softened. "Yeah. You're the people who did CPR on him."

  "How's he doing?" Brendan asked.

  "A little better," Penny said, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. "He's starting to wake up. I'm heading home to take a shower and get some sleep. Coming back this afternoon."

  "Let us walk you to your car," Cilla said. "We've been thinking about him. What do the doctors say?"

  Penny practically staggered across the street and walked into the parking lot. "They say his brain function looks okay. They're not sure why he's still in a coma, but they're hopeful he'll wake up soon." Her mouth quivered. "I'm holding onto that sliver of hope."

  "Did you remember anything else about that night?" Cilla asked gently. "Anything that might help the cops?"

  The woman swallowed. "Yeah. He told me he had taken some kind of sex drug. I didn't say anything to the cops who showed up because I didn't want him to get into trouble. I think he got it in the pub."

  Being caref
ul not to glance at Cilla, Brendan asked, "Did you at least tell the doctors?"

  "I told them everything." Penny's eyes flashed as she met his gaze. "I love him. I want him to be okay. I don't know why he took that stupid drug."

  "We all do stupid things sometimes," Cilla said.

  The woman stopped next to a familiar-looking car and opened the door. Brendan held it for her as she climbed in. A colorful pile of fabric pooled on the floor of the back seat. A shirt.

  He remembered seeing the shirt on the floor of the car that night. And earlier that night, as well. On a tall, thin man talking to Tiffany.

  He touched Penny's shoulder. "Drive carefully, okay? You look really tired."

  "Thanks." She gave them a weary half-smile. "Thanks for asking about Jason."

  "Glad to hear he's improving."

  She nodded, then started the car and pulled out of the parking spot.

  As he watched her drive away, he fumbled for Cilla's hand. "Thank God you suggested stopping here."

  "Why? We didn't get any new information."

  "Yes, we did. I think we found a solid link between the drugs and Tiffany."

  Chapter 24

  Cilla stared at Brendan, stunned, as he explained about the shirt in the back of Penny's car, and how he remembered seeing it on Steven earlier that night as he talked to Tiffany. "Thank God for loud shirts," Brendan said.

  "And for observant partners," she added. She slumped in the seat as he maneuvered along Michigan and merged onto Lake Shore Drive. "At least this impulse of mine turned out well."

  "Hey, we got some good information last night," Brendan said immediately.

  "We were lucky," Cilla said quietly. She forced a smile as guilt thrummed through her. She'd been so damn reckless last night. She'd charged over to the lawyer's car without stopping to think. "You're supposed to be the impulsive one in this partnership. Since when did we switch roles?"

  "Being impulsive isn't always bad." His gaze held hers for a long moment, then he switched his attention to the road. Her face burning, she remembered the first time they'd had sex. She'd been impulsive then, too.

  It had turned out pretty well for her and Brendan.

  Maybe she needed to take more risks in her life.

  You already did.

  Her face got hotter as she remembered the words she'd whispered to him early this morning as she fell asleep. Yeah. When she'd spoken, she hadn't been thinking again. Only feeling. It was probably just as well Brendan had been asleep.

  For now, she'd keep these feelings locked away, where they couldn't get in the way of her job. And maybe, if she was feeling brave, she'd tell him again after the case was over.

  Or maybe not.

  She'd assumed all along this relationship of theirs came with an expiration date – the end of the case. If he was interested in continuing this...whatever it was, they could talk about it later. When they didn't have to focus all their energy on finding the people distributing this drug.

  People who were likely to turn out to be cops.

  She rolled her shoulders, feeling as if dirt clung to every inch of her. Filth she'd never be able to wash away.

  "What's wrong?" Brendan asked.

  It was a little scary how he noticed everything. Maybe because he was a writer. She leaned against the back of the seat and stared out the window. "I feel as though I need to take ten showers, and even then I'll never be clean."

  "I know." His voice was so soft she could barely hear him over the rumble of the tires on the asphalt. "Everywhere we look, we uncover more slime."

  "We need some help with this case, but I don't know who to trust," she said, pulling her feet onto the seat and wrapping her arms around her legs. "I'll be on the stage all weekend, so I can't help you watch Tiffany. You have any ideas?"

  "Yeah. I do."

  He sounded so confident. So sure, that her mood lightened a little. "You want to share with the class?"

  "I think we should call Connor, Quinn and Mia. My siblings. I trust them completely. They could back us up at the pub this weekend. Between the four of us, we could watch Tiffany every minute."

  "What would that get us?"

  "We'd know if she met with Bates or Ward. We'd see if she passed something small, like a pill, to anyone. If we got hold of it, and it turned out to be that drug, we could pull her in and find out where she's getting the drug."

  "No guarantees she's going to sell anything while we're watching," Cilla pointed out.

  "Course not. But it gives us a chance. Do you have another idea?"

  "No," she admitted. "But it seems like a lot to ask of your family. They'd potentially be giving up four nights. What if they have to work?"

  "We'll figure something out. They can probably juggle their shifts so they're off at night this weekend." He pulled into a strip mall along Belmont. "I'm going to call Connor."

  Brendan pulled out his phone and hit one of his speed dials. A few moments later, he said, "Hey, Con. You have a minute?"

  Brendan put the phone on speaker and she heard Connor say, "Sure."

  Brendan sketched out what was going on, then said, "We think there might be cops involved. You and Quinn and Mia are the only ones I trust right now. Except for Cilla."

  He trusted her as much as he trusted his family.

  Cilla's mushy heart stuttered, and pleasure swept through her. Her throat tightened and she turned to look out the window. Her eyes prickled, and she didn't want Brendan to see her stupid tears.

  There was a pause. Then Connor asked, "Cilla from the hospital?" His voice sounded a little sharper. As if he was mining for information.

  "How many partners do you think I have named Cilla? Yes, it's the woman you met in the hospital. Can you get away for lunch?"

  "Absolutely." He must have covered the phone, because she heard his muffled voice say, "Hey, Q. Lunch with Bren?"

  A few moments later he said, "Quinn's good. I'll give Mia a call. She's working tonight. Where do you want to go?"

  Brendan glanced at her. "I was thinking a park. No one to overhear us."

  "Sounds serious," Connor said.

  "It is. How about Montrose Avenue Beach?"

  "No," Connor said immediately. "It's fall. That place is a birding mecca. There will be crowds of people out there, all of them with binoculars. Don't want to take the chance one of them's an off-duty cop. How about North Avenue Beach?"

  "That works." Brendan glanced at his watch. "Noon good for you?"

  "Yep."

  "See you then. We'll bring lunch."

  He turned off his phone and grinned at her. "See how easy that was?"

  She swallowed hard to dispel the lump in her throat. "Do your siblings always drop everything when you call?"

  "Not always. Sometimes they're tied up with a case. Or busy with their girlfriends. But if one of us needs help, the rest of us try to make it." He shrugged. "We take care of each other."

  A wisp of envy trickled through Cilla. She and her siblings didn't have that kind of relationship. Her brother and sister called her a lot when they needed help, but Cilla never asked them for anything.

  She'd called Olivia last night. And Livvy had been glad to help.

  Maybe she'd just needed to call all along. Maybe her siblings never stepped up because she never asked them to.

  Maybe it wouldn't be as hard to change their family dynamic as she'd thought it would be.

  While she'd been thinking about her family, Brendan had pulled out of the strip mall parking spot. "Cilla. You in there?" he asked with a quizzical look.

  "Yeah. Sorry. Just thinking about families." She made an effort to smile. "Yours sounds so different than mine."

  "Doesn't mean better or worse," he said easily as he glanced at his watch. "We're meeting at noon. I need to take Franny for a walk. You want to come along?"

  The thought of walking the dog with Brendan brought a prickle of longing to her throat. Last time she'd wondered how it would feel to be part of a couple with
a normal life. Walking the dog. Coming home from work and fixing dinner.

  After spending the last couple of days with him, she knew. It would feel pretty damn good.

  But she couldn't go there now. Couldn't think about what she and Brendan had or what she was hoping they had.

  She had to focus on the case. Not enough sleep the night before and the upsetting possibility of looking for dirty cops had made her emotional. Shockingly needy. Unless she wanted Brendan to see her usually-hidden clingy side, she needed to get away from him for a few hours. Steady herself.

  "I should go home and change my clothes. Pay some bills." Her face heated. "I haven't been home much the last few days."

  "Yeah." His voice was low and throaty in the idling car. "It's been great." He hesitated, and she wondered if he was going to tell her a little distance would work for him. "Do you, ah, want to pack a few things so you have clean clothes at my place for tomorrow?"

  She stared at him, blood rushing through her veins so hard she heard it in her ears. He wasn't telling her he'd had enough closeness. "I could do that."

  "Will you do that?"

  She nodded. "Yes. I will."

  "Good." He reached for her hand, squeezed it, then let her go. "Joined at the hip, remember? I won't sleep unless you're right next to me."

  Her heart lurched. He was thinking about her safety.

  She'd been thinking of something else entirely. "Drop me at my place, then?"

  "Yes. I'll pick you up about eleven so we can grab some lunch first. Okay?"

  "Sounds great."

  When they reached her building, she leaped out of the car and hurried into the front door without looking back.

  * * *

  Brendan watched her rush into her apartment, wondering what the hell was wrong. Ever since he'd called Connor, she'd been acting weird. Quiet. He'd say she was brooding, except Cilla didn't seem like the type to brood.

  That was one of the things he liked about her. She was straightforward. Told him what she thought and what she wanted. He didn't have to try and interpret hidden messages.

  So he'd ask her when he picked her up, he promised himself. For now, he was going to spend some time with Franny, who had been neglected the last couple of days. Smiling in anticipation, he headed for his apartment.