by Gerri Hill
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
“So, are you going to tell me or what?” Tori’s curiosity was killing her.
“Tell you what?” Casey pointed up ahead. “Pull in here. I’m starving.”
Hunter pulled into the drive-thru lane, quietly shaking her head. How could she possibly eat as much as she did? “Think how much time we’d save if you ate breakfast at home.”
“That’d mean there’d have to be food there.” Casey handed her a ten. “Get me the sausage and egg sandwich, hash browns and a large coffee.”
“Sure that’s all? Don’t want a biscuit on the side?”
Casey shook her head. “Better not. Had a big meal last night.” She smiled. “You know, with Marissa.”
“And again, are you going to tell me what happened?”
“Nothing happened, Hunter. We had a nice dinner, talked about the case, flirted a little, and then she said she wasn’t going to sleep with me.”
Tori stared at her. “Are you crazy? You want to sleep with her?”
“Despite your description of her, I found her quite attractive. A bit arrogant, yes, but I even found that attractive.”
“Been a while for you, has it?”
Casey laughed. “Damn, Hunter, you’re making a joke. And here everyone said you were all business.”
Tori shrugged. “Sam says I’ve mellowed.”
“Speaking of Sam, Marissa thinks she’s a doll. She’s not quite sure what Sam sees in you, though.”
Tori pulled up to the window and gave Casey’s order, then tossed a glance at her. She was about to say she didn’t give a shit what Marissa Goddard thought, but she stopped herself. Then she blurted out the one thing that was foremost on her mind. “Sam’s leaving.”
Casey frowned. “What? Oh, man, I’m sorry. What happened?”
Tori shook her head. “No, I mean she’s leaving for a training session. For three weeks.”
“Well, shit, Hunter, I thought you meant she was leaving you.”
Tori stared straight ahead. “Feels like it,” she said quietly.
“What’s up? You guys having problems?”
“No, no. It’s just, well, we’ve never been apart.” Tori turned as Casey’s breakfast was handed through the window. “Thanks.”
Casey took the bag and ripped into it. “You didn’t get you any coffee, Hunter?”
“Already had some.” She pulled away, watching as Casey took a huge bite from her sandwich. “How do you stay so thin?”
“Blessed. My grandmother was a pole bean,” she said as she sampled the hash browns. “So when is Sam leaving?”
Tori sighed. “Tomorrow.”
“Damn. For three weeks, huh?”
“Yep.”
“Where do you live, anyway?”
“Over near White Rock.”
“Well, hell, Hunter, if I’m not busy with Marissa this weekend, we can hang out.”
“Hang out?”
“Yeah. Have a few beers somewhere, catch a movie or something.”
Tori glanced at her quickly, then back at the road. “You fish?”
“Used to fish all the time. My grandfather lived out on Lake Fork. Had a nice bass boat.” She grabbed her coffee as Tori took the corner too fast. “Have I told you your driving sucks?”
“He still out there?” Tori asked, ignoring the dig.
“No. He died on Christmas Eve, two years ago.” She shrugged. “My brother got the boat.”
“And?”
“And we don’t get along.” She wadded up her trash and put it in the bag, then tossed it to the back of Tori’s Explorer.
“Why don’t you get along?”
“Come on, Hunter, we’re not going to have a heart-to-heart, are we?”
Tori smiled. “Yeah, what was I thinking? I don’t really do heart-to-hearts.” She turned onto the Hagens’ street. “But I’ve got a boat out on Eagle Mountain Lake. Not a bass boat—it’s a cabin cruiser. But I wouldn’t mind company if you wanted to do a little fishing.”
Casey grinned. “Absolutely. And even if I did score a date with Marissa, I’d probably turn her down for a chance to fish.”
Tori pulled along the curb and parked, noting the drawn drapes in the Hagens’ house. “Early Saturday. We’ll make a day of it.” She got out, thinking Sam would be proud of her. She wasn’t going to go into a shell and hide until Sam came back. She’d promised her that. And O’Connor? Well, they seemed to get along fine, and it’d been a while since Tori had added a new friend to her life.
“Looks kinda quiet,” Casey said. “You think she bailed on us?”
“Maybe.” Tori rang the doorbell, then knocked several times when she heard no sound.
“Damn. And I thought we had her too.”
Tori pressed her face against the window, trying to see inside. She rapped loudly on the pane. “Mrs. Hagen?” she called. “Police. Open up.”
“She must have gone to the doctor with her husband.”
Tori shook her head. “I don’t think so. She wanted to tell us. She wanted to clear her conscience.” She moved off the porch and around to the side of the house.
“She slept on it, changed her mind,” Casey said as she followed her. “Where the hell are you going?”
“To the back.”
The wood of the privacy fence was weathered and worn but sturdy. Tori gripped the top, testing it.
“You’re going over?”
“The gate’s locked.”
“Don’t we need a warrant for this?”
Tori rolled her eyes, then pulled herself over the fence and dropped to the ground on the other side. She waited. “Are you coming or what?”
“I’m coming, I’m coming.” Casey gripped the top of the fence, mimicking Tori as she scampered over the top and landed lightly on the ground beside her. “You’re not too bad for an old lady, Hunter.”
Tori scowled but said nothing as she crept silently to the back porch. The blinds were pulled up in the kitchen, the morning sunlight streaming inside. Tori followed the light, her eyes widening when she saw Mrs. Hagen.
“Goddamn,” she murmured as she pulled her gun from the holster.
Casey pulled her weapon too, following Tori’s gaze into the kitchen. “Oh, no.”
Tori turned the doorknob and found it locked. She looked at Casey and shook her head, then used her shoulder to break the lower windowpane in the door.
“I’ll call for backup.”
“No need for that,” Tori said as she reached through the glass to unlock the door.
They walked into the kitchen, Tori staring at the floor where a pool of blood surrounded Alice Hagen’s head, her perfectly coiffed hair now damp and matted. Her eyes were opened staring lifelessly at the ceiling of her pristine kitchen. Tori motioned silently to the den, then pointed at Casey, who nodded.
Tori then walked down the hallway toward the bedrooms, finding them quiet and empty. “Clear,” she called.
“All clear,” Casey answered from the other room.
Tori flipped open her phone, dialing Malone’s number as she came back into the kitchen. “It’s me,” she said when he answered. “Alice Hagen’s been shot.”
“What the hell? Dead?”
“Afraid so. Looks similar to Hidalgo. Shot to the head. No sign of forced entry. In fact, the house was locked. We broke in through the kitchen window in the back.”
“Broke in? Please say there was probable cause, Hunter,” Malone said.
Tori flicked her gaze at Casey. “Now, come on, Lieutenant, you don’t think I’d do something illegal, do you?”
“Well, Sam’s not there to rein you in, so who the hell knows. Sikes! Get in here,” he yelled and Tori pulled the phone away from her ear with a grimace. “Sit tight, Hunter. I’ll notify the crime lab. Maybe we’ll get lucky.”
Tori looked back at the spotless kitchen. “Maybe.”
“And Sikes got the report from Mac on the fingerprints. Only one unaccounted for.”
“Why? Di
dn’t they print everyone?”
“Everyone on the list, yeah. Apparently our mystery prints weren’t on the list.”
“How convenient,” she murmured.
“I’m going to send Sikes over there. I want you and what’sher—name from Special Victims—”
“O’Connor,” Tori supplied.
“Right. O’Connor. I want you two at the church. Get some reaction on the housekeeper, see if they left someone off the list, whatever. I’ll let the captain know. Maybe they’ll lighten up on us closing the case.”
“All right.”
“But don’t hold your breath, Hunter. Chief wants this wrapped up nice and tidy by Friday. I doubt the murder of a housekeeper will change his mind.”
Tori slammed her phone closed, just barely resisting the urge to fling it across the room. “Goddamn politics.” She looked at Casey. “He doesn’t think this will have a bearing on the case. Chief wants it over and done with by Friday.”
“How the hell can we close it?” Casey yelled. “A goddamn potential witness is shot dead.” She pointed at Alice Hagen. “Shot dead right here.”
“Don’t yell at me. I’m not the one who wants it closed,” Tori snapped.
Casey shook her head. “We killed her, Hunter. We goddamn killed her,” she said, her voice lower now.
“What the fuck are you talking about?”
“She knew. And we kept pushing her and pushing her. So when she was about to give up a name, they kill her instead.”
“How the hell would someone know she was about to tell us a name?”
“Maybe they were watching her, watching us. Maybe they knew you and Kennedy had been here before. Hell, maybe she told them because she freaked.”
“Come on, O’Connor. Who the hell is she going to tell?”
“She’s goddamn shot in the head! She told someone something.” Casey paced the room, her glance going again and again to Alice Hagen. As if seeing for the first time, Casey peered at the worn rosary beads still wrapped between her fingers. “Christ, Hunter, how do you do this all the time?”
“What?”
“Homicide.” Casey looked up. “Like I said, most of my victims are still alive when I get to them.”
Tori shook her head. “If your unit had been up and running last year, your victims would have been dead. Raped, mutilated, murdered,” Tori said quietly, remembering.
“Yeah, I know. It’s what prompted them to bring us up earlier than we were ready, I think. Hell, Hunter, I worked Assault for a while, I saw my share of abuse, you know. But I’m glad that case still fell to Homicide.”
Tori sighed. “Malone wants us at the church. He’s sending Sikes over to cover this one.”
“It should be us,” Casey protested. “This is our case.”
“We’ll find the answers at the church, not here. Maybe it’ll give you a chance to work on your moves with Marissa Goddard. Work on that date you’re trying to get with her.”
Casey shook her head, glancing again to Alice Hagen. “I can’t believe the bastard killed her.”
“Well, believe it.”
CHAPTER NINETEEN
“You have her cell number?” Tori asked incredulously. Casey was dialing as they walked along the sidewalk to the church. “I don’t have her number. Why do you have her number?”
Casey grinned. “You didn’t flirt with her, obviously.”
“As if,” Tori murmured.
“Hey, Marissa. It’s Casey.” She winked at Tori. “Got a minute for me?” She paused. “Well, me and Hunter. She misses you,” she said with a laugh.
Tori rolled her eyes and nudged Casey with her elbow. “Get on with it.”
“Thanks. We’ll be right up.”
She closed her phone. “She’ll make time for us. Even with you along,” she said with her own nudge. “But let me do the talking.” Then she paused. “If it’s all right with you, of course.”
Tori nodded. “It’s all yours, hotshot. I’ll just tag along.”
“And you’ll be able to hold your temper?”
“What temper? I don’t have a temper?”
“Oh, God, Hunter, it was the main thing they warned me about.”
“They? They who?”
“Everybody, Hunter. Everybody.” Casey stopped, turning to straighten Tori’s jacket collar. “Now you’re presentable.”
“Thanks. And remember, don’t accuse,” Tori reminded her as they entered the main lobby of the diocese office. “We won’t get anywhere if you accuse.”
“I won’t accuse.” She went to the reception desk. “Marissa Goddard is expecting us. Detectives O’Connor and Hunter,” she said. “Special Victims.” She glanced at Hunter. “And Homicide.”
“Of course. You may go into the sitting area. I’ll call her.”
Casey nodded, then looked around. “Sitting area?” she whispered to Tori.
“This way,” Tori said, motioning with her head. “Very impressive. Lots of paintings.”
Casey eyed the plush burgundy carpet, and then she stopped, looking around at the religious paintings on the wall. “Damn, Hunter,” she whispered. “Kinda spooky in here. It’s too quiet.”
Tori nodded. “That was pretty much my impression, yeah.”
“You think they’re real?” she asked, motioning to the paintings.
“Of course they’re real, O’Connor.”
Casey moved closer. “What do you think they’re worth?”
“Sorry. Don’t have a clue.” Tori leaned against the wall. “Maybe you can ask Marissa. You know, in one of those quiet moments you’re hoping to have.”
Casey laughed. “Careful, Hunter. If you keep up the teasing, you’re going to ruin your reputation. I was told you didn’t have a lighter side.”
Tori shrugged. “It comes and goes.”
Casey walked around the room, absently inspecting each painting as they waited for Marissa. Tori glanced at her watch. It had been ten minutes.
“Surely she can’t be that busy,” Casey said. “You think she’s doing this on purpose?”
Tori smiled. “You think, O’Connor?”
“Yeah, well, she’s not making any points with me.”
“Maybe—” But Tori’s reply died when she heard Marissa Goddard’s footsteps on the marble floor down the hallway. “That’ll be her.”
They both turned, watching as Marissa came into the room, her glance going from one to the other.
“Detectives,” she greeted with a slight nod. “To what do I owe this pleasure?”
Casey moved forward. “Now, see, I knew you would find it pleasurable to see me again.” She gestured to Tori. “Wasn’t sure about Hunter here, though.”
“I see you haven’t left your sense of humor at the restaurant, O’Connor.” She turned to Tori. “How is Samantha? I hear she has a new position.”
Tori raised an eyebrow. “Is there anything you don’t know?”
“Not if I can help it, no. Now, what can I help you with today?”
Casey said, “A couple of things. One, they got the prints matched. All but one.” She stared at her. “Any idea who that one could be?”
Marissa shook her head. “The list of names came from Monsignor Bernard and Sister Margaret. I think the housekeeper, Alice Hagen, contributed a couple as well. She knew a lot about the comings and goings.”
“Yeah. She probably knew a lot. She probably knew who Father Michael was sleeping with and everything.”
“Allegedly,” Marissa corrected.
“Well, she’s allegedly dead.”
“What? Alice Hagen?”
Casey nodded. “Shot in the head. We found her this morning.”
“Oh, my God,” Marissa murmured. She looked around, then motioned for them to follow her. “Let’s go into my office. We can talk in private.”
“You have an office?” Tori asked, surprised.
“Temporary, yes. I hope to be gone by the weekend.”
“Not likely,” Tori said. “We have no inte
ntion of closing the case.”
Marissa stopped and turned around. “I wasn’t aware it was your call, Detective.”
“I doubt even the chief would order the case closed with all these loose ends.”
Marissa smiled. “Don’t worry, Hunter. It’s really not your call.” She opened a door down the hallway and motioned them inside. “Have a seat.”
“So I guess no one here’s been notified about Alice Hagen yet?” Casey asked.
“No. At least I wasn’t aware of the situation. I’ll need to brief Monsignor Bernard. What happened exactly?”
Tori and Casey exchanged glances, then Tori nodded, giving Casey the okay to talk.
“We had an appointment with her this morning,” Casey said. “She was going to give up the name.”
“The name?”
“The name of Father Michael’s lover.”
“Give me a break, O’Connor,” Marissa scoffed.
“I’m serious. We went to see her yesterday. She was about to tell us but her husband came in. She told us to come back this morning when her husband would be at his doctor’s appointment.”
“And we showed up and found her dead,” Tori finished. “Shot in the head, just like Juan Hidalgo.”
“So naturally you assume the two murders are related.”
“Naturally.”
Marissa leaned forward, looking at Casey. “You really think she was going to give up a name?”
“Yes. Absolutely.”
Marissa leaned back again, her gaze going from Casey to Tori. She shook her head. “But it doesn’t really matter, does it? No matter what you dig up, Father Michael’s case is closed.”
“It doesn’t matter that a woman is dead?” Tori asked loudly. “Of course it does.”
“The case is still closed, Detective.”
“If you think the media is so easily swayed here, you’re crazy,” Tori said. “We can close the case on Father Michael, but his accused killer is dead, and now his housekeeper is dead. You think just closing Father Michael’s case will make those others go away?”
“But you see, that’s not my problem. My only concern is Father Michael’s reputation. And as long as it is not soiled, then my job is done. If they want to scrutinize the police department for the other two murders, that’s not my concern.”
