by Kylie Brant
Cade released an impatient breath. "So he didn't make the call from his place. Big deal." He didn't see the significance of that particular point, but the I.A. officers exchanged a meaningful glance.
"What we do have is a dozen calls from Hollister's cell to Freddie's number."
"So? I told you we were shaking all our usual snitches for any information we could get from them. Brian called all his informants. So did I."
"Twelve times?" Torley asked. He worked his angular shoulders as if he had an itch between his shoulder blades.
"As many as it took to make contact. Probably had a hard time catching up with him. Junkies don't keep regular hours."
Morrison leaned forward across the table, buddy to buddy. "See, the thing we don't get is, you said the two of you had been working on your case for two weeks. But these phone calls spanned a month or so."
Although the news took Cade by surprise, he took pains to hide the fact. "And? We work lots of cases. And we use informants on all of them."
"There was nothing in the log that indicated Hollister had paid this guy for information during that time. Nothing written in any reports that made note of it, either."
"'Cause Freddie didn't have anything worthwhile to offer?" Cade suggested blandly. "Where you guys going with this?"
Rather than answering that question, Torley switched to another subject. "How well do you know Carla Hollister?"
Instantly cautious, Cade responded, "Pretty well."
"Brian ever complain about her spending habits? Like maybe she had expensive tastes he couldn't afford?"
Disgusted, Cade folded his arms over his chest. "No."
"Never talked about how hard it was to raise a family on a cop's salary? His wife didn't work, did she? I thought she said she stayed home with the kids."
"She did. And Brian never complained about money. He liked being a cop."
"Yeah, according to his jacket he'd racked up a few commendations along the way," Morrison said. "So have you." Cade said nothing. "But a family can't eat commendations and awards, can they?"
"Thousands of cops are raising families on their salaries. You gonna suggest they're all on the take?"
Morrison looked up then. "You keep bringing that up. But we've never said anything about Hollister being on the take."
"You didn't have to. All this questioning about money is pretty self-explanatory. You guys want to go fishing, you should take a vacation."
Torley glowered. "We're not on a fishing expedition here, Tremaine. We have reason to believe that Hollister was supplementing his income, and as his partner, you might have some information on that. Unless you have a reason for not talking."
Dropping his arms, Cade leaned forward. "Yeah, my reason is there's nothing to say. If you've got some hard evidence to go on, you wouldn't be talking to me. You wouldn't need to. Struck out with that warrant, didn't you?" He made a mock pitying sound. "Too bad. But I told you before you were wasting your time."
"Who says we struck out?" Torley shot back. "If you're telling us the truth about what you know, it might be that you're the one who didn't know Brian Hollister as well as you thought. Ever think of that?"
Cade's chair clattered as he abruptly rose from his seat and leaned across the table on clenched fists. Morrison rose, too, his voice placating. "Okay, let's bring it down a notch. We all have a job to do here. You might not care for the way we do ours, Tremaine, but we want to get at the truth as much as you do."
But Cade had heard enough. "If you have anything else to ask me, do it now. Because I'm—"
The door opened and the desk sergeant stuck his head in.
"Tremaine, you had a call. I took a message and figured you'd want to know right away." When he turned, the man entered and handed him a folded slip of paper. Cade unfolded it, read it and felt his blood congeal.
With little preamble he headed toward the door. "I'd like to say it's been a pleasure, boys. If you need anything else, we'll have to reschedule."
Torley rose, as well, as if to prevent him from leaving. "Wait a minute, we're in the middle of an interview here. Where the hell do you think you're going?"
"I'm going out to work a case." Reaching the door, Cade looked over his shoulder at the two men, saw the men wore matching scowls. "I know that's something you desk jockeys wouldn't understand, but it's what real cops do, not sit around rooms assassinating good cops' reputations." With no little satisfaction, he went through the door, closed it on the two Internal Affairs sergeants.
He grabbed his coat and took the time to stick his head in Lieutenant Howard's office. "I'm heading over to Charity Hospital. I just got word that LeFrenz contacted Shae O'Riley last night."
Howard looked up. "The woman we've had detail on? I thought she was cooperating. Why'd she wait so long to let you know?"
That question, along with a few others, were burning a hole in his gut. Grimly Cade said, "That's exactly what I'm going to find out."
But the answers to his questions weren't immediately forthcoming. The E.R. was filled with people, noise and no little chaos. He could ignore all those, but it was the smell that had assailed him upon entering through the double doors that had the skin on the back of his neck prickling. He'd spent more time than he cared to remember in this place, flat on his back, wounded both emotionally and physically. Just the aroma of disinfectant was enough to elicit a reaction.
Forcing it aside, he went to the desk to ask for Shae and found it difficult to even get someone's attention. Finally he stepped in front of a woman in a lab coat hurrying by and said, "Have you seen Dr. O'Riley?"
"Exam room three." The woman sidestepped him and went on her way, preventing Cade from asking directions. Memory kicked in and he headed down the hallway in the opposite direction from the one he'd taken when he'd accompanied LeFrenz to the hospital. Following the sound of earsplitting obscenities, he walked into room three, found it jammed with people. He heard Shae before he saw her, giving orders and talking to the patient in the same even voice.
"He's been altered since he was brought in?" A medic nodded and Shae said, "Call Follett for a psych consult." A dark-haired orderly went to the wall phone and picked it up, sending Cade a curious glance. The filthy bearded man on the cart stopped his screaming abruptly and began singing "Be Kind to Our Web-Footed Friends" in glass-shattering tones. "Sir, can you tell me where it hurts?"
The man continued to bellow off-key.
Content for the moment to watch her at work, Cade leaned a shoulder against the wall. Something inside him, something he hadn't even realized had knotted, released slowly. He identified the feeling as relief. Stupid, really.
If Shae had been hurt, she certainly wouldn't have been able to call in the message to the district. Seeing her now, well and unharmed, melted his concern, leaving only irritation in its wake.
She looked competent, calm, if a little harried at the moment. Her patient, a homeless man from the looks of him, had three people restraining him and they could have used a fourth.
"I'm going to need that coat open to do an examination, sir," she said. As her hands went to struggle with the buttons on his filthy trench coat, the man stopped singing and heaved himself upward, throwing off the nurse who was restraining him on one side. Cade shoved away from the wall, springing to her side, but he was a moment too late. The homeless man flung out his arm as Shae opened his coat, and suddenly the room was filled with feathers and fluttering wings.
Pigeons. Realization hit Cade as he helped the attending personnel wrestle the patient to the cart again. The man had had three of four of the birds inside his coat. How the hell he'd coaxed them in there in the first place was something to be considered at another time. The panicked birds were swooping and flying around the room. One hit the tray of sterilized instruments next to the cart, upsetting it and sending the utensils clattering to the floor.
"For God's sake, hold him down." It was the first time Cade had ever heard Shae raise her voice. The patient was fi
ghting with the strength of six men, making it a struggle to restrain him. Cade wondered if he was "altered" by mental illness, drugs or a combination of the two. He and the orderly grabbed the man's shoulders, pressing him back against the cart, while the nurses held his arms against his sides.
Cade saw the flash of a needle and turned his head in time to see Shae swiftly inject the man with what he fervently hoped was a sedative.
He ducked to avoid a gray-and-white pigeon flying toward his face and saw the man's eyes go wide, then roll back in his head. Moments later he was still.
There was a shriek as the dark-haired nurse jumped away from the pigeon that had grazed her shoulder. With a sheepish grin at Shae, she muttered, "I'm not a nature lover."
"This scene's for the birds for sure," the orderly said, and laughed.
"This guy isn't going to give us any more trouble. Julie, why don't you get the wrist restraints as long as he's out. And then call security." The woman moved to obey Shae's command.
Cade let go of the patient. The curtain that separated the room into two compartments was bunched into a wad against the wall. He waved the birds into the far end of the room, then jerked the curtain closed, effectively caging them in the smaller area. "Better tell security to bring a couple of nets." Then he looked at Shae, really looked at her, for the first time since the freakish bird escape, and concern bloomed anew. "Looks like he clipped you a good one when he got his arm free." Moving to her side, he took her jaw in his hand.
"You're going to have a shiner, Doctor," the orderly said.
"I'm fine."
Cade couldn't tell whether it was stubbornness or embarrassment he heard in Shae's voice. Despite her attempts to free herself from his grasp, he kept her face cupped in his hand, turning it toward him so he could see the injury better. He frowned. "You're already beginning to bruise."
A faint bluish mark marred the creamy skin on her right cheekbone. He wasn't the medical person here, but he'd been on the receiving end of more than his share of fists. He didn't think she was going to have a black eye. But she was going to have a hell of a bruise.
Julie turned away from the phone and winced when she saw Shae. "He's right. Why don't you go take care of yourself and I'll check this guy out."
"That's not necessary."
But Cade had already slipped an arm around her waist and started guiding her toward the door. "Good idea. Let's go get something to put on that mark."
"Anything I need can be found in this room," she reminded him in a voice that was a little too even.
"So can half the pigeons from City Park." He knew if she wasn't forced to, she wouldn't stop to tend her injury for hours, if at all. She didn't like to show weakness, and especially not in front of him. Although he understood her behavior, it did nothing to stem his concern.
As they stepped out into the hallway, a man strode up to them. "What's going on in there, Shae?" the man asked. His brows skimmed upward when he noticed her face. "Some patient take offense at your bedside manner?"
"Just a mentally unstable vagrant with a penchant for feathered friends." She waved off his next question. "Security's on the way, Tim. It's under control."
The man's gaze swung to Cade, then dropped pointedly to the arm he still had around Shae's waist. It was easy to figure out the guy didn't like to see him touching her. Either he had a claim on her or he thought he did.
Deliberately Cade resisted Shae's subtle attempts to free herself. "I figured she probably ought to see to that bruise."
"You're right. Do you need any help?"
"I'm fine, Tim." Shae's tone managed to be civil. Just.
"I'm going to grab an ice pack." She and Cade moved away, leaving the man staring after them.
Cade remained silent until they'd entered a small room filled with locked cabinets and shelves. Then, accepting the slight nudge she gave him with her elbow, he stepped aside. She went to a small freezer on the far wall and took out an ice pack, put it to her face. "You know, this really isn't necessary."
"The ice pack? I'm not the medical expert here, but I always heard ice keeps swelling down."
She shot him an irritated glance. "No, I mean this … concern. I've had worse, believe me. And I can't afford to be gone too long. The E.R. has been wild since I got in. Full moon last night."
"I've been concerned since I got your message today," he replied steadily.
For a moment, remarkably, she looked blank. Then when comprehension filtered in, she glanced away. "Oh. You mean LeFrenz."
"Yeah, I mean LeFrenz." He had to restrain himself from reaching out and shaking her. Or to haul her into his arms. To avoid doing either, he shoved his hands into his pockets. "How long after I left did he call?"
"It was about three." In an expressionless voice she recounted the conversation to him. With each sentence of the retelling, Cade could feel his blood run a little colder.
"He threatened you," he said flatly when she'd finished.
"Not…" She glanced at him, her eyes widening when she saw the expression on his face. "You were right." The words sounded as though they pained her a great deal. "I never believed he'd get in touch with me. I still don't understand it."
Being right had never felt less satisfying. Cade had an urge to bury his fist in the plastered wall at his side. Or preferably in LeFrenz's smug face. "What's to understand? He has a habit of taking what he wants."
She whirled around to face him. "But why me? I have nothing to do with all this. Why would he fixate on me when it would be smarter, safer, to stay as far away from the hospital personnel as possible?"
"LeFrenz doesn't care about being safe or smart. He's cocky enough to believe he can beat the odds. As for why you—" Cade swept her with a glance he couldn't hope to keep objective "—you've got mirrors in your apartment. You can't be that unaware." But in the next instant he doubted his own words. She looked embarrassed by his remark, but still a bit uncomprehending. As if she was unused to seeing herself as men might. Like temptation encased by ice, promising to blister the skin and confuse the senses of any man daring to touch. To taste.
The errant thought brought lightning memories of less than twenty-four hours ago when he'd done both. And there hadn't been a hint of ice or her frosty reserve when he'd had her in his arms. What there had been was steam, plenty of it, and a torrent of desire that had been so sudden, so savage, it had stripped his mind clean.
He forced the mental replay aside for the moment and took her over the conversation again, word by word, making her search her memory for nuances, inflections, anything that would glean more information about LeFrenz's location. When he heard her tell how she'd tried to get the man to divulge exactly that, he felt a flicker of respect. Although he was certain nothing could force her to admit it, she had to have been rattled by the call. Frightened. Yet she'd still had the foresight to try to elicit information that would help them.
"I checked the caller I.D. and last-number redial. Both said the number he'd called from was unavailable."
Cade shrugged. He hadn't expected it to be otherwise. LeFrenz wouldn't be that careless. "I've already got an order in with the telephone company. They'll be able to place the number."
She looked doubtful. "You don't think he'd call from where he was staying, do you?"
"It'd be nice if it were that easy, but probably not. Still," he continued, noting his answer had her tensing up again, "someone might have seen him in the vicinity of the phone he did use. They might remember something. This could be the break we've been waiting for." It was turning out just as he'd promised his lieutenant. LeFrenz contacting Shae might be the best break they'd had in this case yet.
Sometimes he really hated his job.
If he hadn't been watching her so closely, he might have missed the rigidity of her shoulders before she relaxed them. "Well, great." The words were brittle. "Glad to be of help."
"Why didn't you call me about this last night?" It took more effort than it should have to make his vo
ice as expressionless as hers. To keep the focus of the question on the case and not on feelings that stemmed from a far more personal level.
The shrug she gave tried for nonchalant, didn't quite make it. "When I found there was no number on the I.D. box, I knew there was nothing you'd be able to find out until morning. There was no use interrupting your sleep."
Something in what she wasn't saying alerted him. Trying to sort it out, he said slowly, "You seem overly interested in my getting sleep. How much did you get after LeFrenz called?"
When she didn't answer, he muttered a curse. "You should have called me right away."
"There was nothing you could do."
"I could have come over." He could have been there with her. He didn't like to think of her there in her apartment, frightened and alone, sitting awake in the darkness with LeFrenz's voice sounding in her head. She wouldn't have gone back to sleep after hearing his threats. She wasn't that cool, despite the impassive mask that had slipped over her features. He wondered savagely if it was designed to reassure him or herself.
"I was fine." Her tone was dismissive. He held her gaze long enough to make her look away. "Okay, I admit, I was a little shaken up. But not anymore. I've got the security company there today to do the work I contracted for, and even if LeFrenz does intend to follow through with his plans, he's going to be too ill to try anything for a while yet."
The matter-of-fact way she discussed when, not if, the man would come after her had his throat closing. "You're still under surveillance," he managed. "And the phone company is tracking down the number from the incoming call you received last night." The lieutenant wouldn't be able to dispute the fact that Cade's hunch had been right. But the realization brought him no satisfaction. The threat to Shae was too real and, despite her words, too immediate to be downplayed.
"Maybe you'd rather not return to your apartment." The words were uttered before he'd really thought. But once he heard them, they made perfect sense. "We could arrange a secure place for you to stay."
She lowered the ice pack from her cheek to stare at him. "No."
Although he recognized the steel in her voice, he pushed further. "I'll make sure you're safe no matter what you decide." He didn't question where the need to reassure her came from. It was just there, primal and undeniable. "But maybe you'd be more comfortable somewhere else."
