Angus sat back. Apparently he owed his old friend one. “You didn’t find any clue that he was alive?”
“No,” Tate said quietly.
That didn’t change the situation. “Lassiter is a genius with an IQ of about one-eighty,” Angus said. “That makes him unique among all humans. No doubt, he’s smart enough to fake his death to avoid prison. Think about it. It took me almost a year to hunt him down in the first place, and nobody else even came close to finding him.”
Scott leaned forward. “As such, my client wants to assist the police. He’s a valuable source.”
Buckle smiled, showing a slightly crooked bottom tooth that mellowed her somehow. “He’s not a source because he’s a suspect. Our prime suspect, actually.” She leaned toward Angus, her eyes softening. “How about you tell us the truth and we all go on from there? You were once a good guy, and the fact that you’ve killed has to be wearing on you. Please let me help you.”
Angus almost smiled. She was good. He turned to Tate. “You going to be bad cop?”
Tate just stared at him.
Scott sighed. “All right. I can see we’re not going to get along, and truth be told, that saddens me.” He twisted his wrist to read his Rolex. “I have lunch with the mayor, so let’s go ahead and hurry this along. Please provide me with all the evidence against my client.”’
Tate’s eyebrows rose. “We haven’t charged your client, thus you’re not entitled to any evidence, Counselor. Somehow, I think you know that.”
Angus fought the urge to yank the case file out of Tate’s hands. “Fine. Just read me the notes left with the last three victims. I can help you decipher them.”
Buckle leaned back and lost the charming smile. “What do we get?”
“What do you want?” Angus shot back.
“We want you to take a lie detector test,” Buckle said evenly. “With our tech.”
Scott held up a hand. “No. Lie detector tests are unreliable and not admissible in court. He refuses.”
“I accept,” Angus said. “You show me the notes and I’ll take a lie detector test anytime and anyplace.”
Scott turned toward him. “That is against advice of counsel.”
“Understood,” Angus said, not looking away from Detective Buckle. “Do we have a deal?”
“Yes,” Tate said, opening his file folder. “There was no note with the fourth victim. Or if there was one, we still haven’t found it. Here’s a copy of the note left with the fifth victim. The original is being tested at the lab right now.”
Angus took the copy of the piece of paper.
Scott leaned over and read out loud. “‘There once was a starry night upon which the darkness of lovers fell.’” He frowned. “What the hell does that mean?”
Angus shook his head, memorizing the script. “The notes are usually from an old poem or text, and the identity of the author is often more important than the actual words.” He handed the copy back to Tate. “And the last victim?”
Tate studied him for a moment and then handed over another copied note.
Angus flushed hot and then ice cold as he read it.
Dearest Angus,
This last week has been a bitter disappointment, truth be told. An opening move in any game should be as bold as the master’s. I’m afraid that each one of these offerings, all six of them, were merely false starts. Oh, their screams were music to my soul, and I made sure each of them said your name several times. I would never, truly never, forget to include you, my friend. Yet I am sure you are as disappointed as I. This week should’ve held more meaning for both of us. But, as you know, plans were made to be altered. I hope to find more meaning with originals rather than inelegant copies. I shall see you soon.
Your friend,
Henry
PS On first glance, the game can only be played according to the limitations on each piece, unless you’re the master of the game.
Angus needed to throw up. He swallowed, keeping his expression as stoic as possible. Finally, proof that he’d been right. He should feel vindicated, but all he felt was exhausted. The bastard was alive and Angus had known it the entire time. “Well. I guess this answers all questions.” He shoved the copy back to Tate.
Detective Buckle snorted. “Right. My guess is that you wrote this to throw us off. Or maybe there are two personalities in that alcoholic head of yours? It’d be a damn good defense tactic.”
“Excuse me?” Angus said, focusing on the woman.
She smiled. “Yeah. Hotshot FBI agent takes down a monster, can’t live with the dead haunting him, and reinvents the monster with a second personality. Is that what happened? Is that your defense?” She leaned toward him again, bringing the oddest scent of lilies. “Come on, Force. Tell us what happened.”
Scott pushed away from the table. “This interview is finished. Do not harass my client again.” He waited until Angus stood and then preceded him out the door.
Angus’s head swam as he strode out of the building, ignoring the stares of other cops. “What do you think?”
“My opinion?” Scott asked, walking gracefully down the steps to the sidewalk. “They’re going to arrest you within the week.”
Nari dressed in a navy-blue skirt suit for her first day with her new team. Her shoes were Louboutin, her shirt Gucci, and her attitude one of confidence as she strode into the new office. Three men had gathered around the table right inside the door, and Vaughn looked up from a series of maps. “You came. I thought you were leaving town.”
“No.” She didn’t offer an explanation.
“Well.” Vaughn stood while the other three men just stared. “In order to be on this team, you can’t be hanging out with suspected serial killers. Is that understood?”
How rude to bring that up in front of people she hadn’t even met. She was supposed to be their sounding board, someone they could discuss their cases with, but Vaughn was doing a good job of making her work impossible. She searched for the right answer to his jackass of a question. There wasn’t one. She turned toward the three other men, putting her back to Vaughn. “I’m Nari Zhang.” She held out a hand to the first one, who was around thirty with brown hair and eyes.
He stood and accepted her hand, shaking lightly. “Hank Bistle. It’s nice to meet you.”
She did the same with the others, finding more puzzlement than judgment in their eyes. When she was finished she turned back to Vaughn. “Is this the entire team?”
“No. We have two more out on assignment,” he said, displeasure in his eyes. “The administrator and your father sent them out, but they’ll be back soon.”
Oh, he just had to mention that Quan was their boss. Irritation caught in her throat, but she spoke through it. “I see. Well, I look forward to meeting them.” She turned and smiled at the other men. “I’ll go organize my office and get settled in. If anybody wants to talk or bounce ideas off me, I’ll be there.” Then she walked calmly and confidently out of the main room and down the hallway to her office, where she exhaled, strode around her desk, and flopped into her chair. This was a disaster.
Vaughn followed her. “What the hell was that?”
She sat up. “What do you mean?”
He shut the door and leaned back against it, crossing his arms. “You are not in charge here, and you do not leave a room unless I give you permission to do so.”
She rolled her eyes. “Are you kidding me? If you don’t want me here, Vaughn, then grow a pair and tell the administrator.”
He reared up, his neck elongating. “Excuse me?”
She swallowed. Should she step out of her shoes? The idiot looked like he was about to charge. “You heard me. You’re the lead on this team and you have a say in who’s on it. If you really don’t want me here, tell the administrator. She’d probably understand and just transfer me.” In fact, why hadn’t Vaughn done that? “Unless you want me here?”
“I don’t want you here,” he said, his jaw tight.
She frowned. Had he
just looked away for the briefest of seconds? She tilted her head to study him and he stared right back, not blinking. Another sign of deception. Then she glared. “Wait a minute. Did you request me for this team?” she asked.
“Of course not.” He shook his head and wiped his mouth.
Ha. Another sign somebody was lying. “Are you kidding me? You were so hurt that I dumped you that you requested me for your team? Why? Just to make me miserable?” Which she would not let him do. “Good luck, buddy. That was a waste of your time.”
His face flushed and his arms uncrossed. “Fine. Yes, I did request you for this team, and yes, I’m going to teach you a lesson.”
“I believe I taught you a lesson before,” she mused, firing up.
His nostrils flared. “Oh, we’re just getting started. You almost ruined both of our careers and one of us has to leave the HDD. I vote for you.”
Her jaw almost dropped open. “You want me on your team to force me out?
“Yes. Want to bet I can do it?” Vaughn asked, his smile actually ugly.
A knock on the door had him moving to the side and opening it.
Bistle smiled and poked his head in. “The rest of the team is here and I’m sure they want to meet Nari.” He looked her over.
Was he making sure she was all right? Apparently Vaughn didn’t have the respect of his team that he imagined. He wasn’t nearly the leader Angus was, and that was a shame for the team. Nari smiled and stood. “Thank you for getting me.” Then she walked by Vaughn and kept walking as Bistle motioned her down the hallway.
Once in the main room, she nodded at two newcomers. “Hello. I’m Nari and I don’t work with this team.” Without waiting for a response, she kept walking right out the door and turned left, heading down to Quan’s office. The receptionist looked up and Nari ignored her, opening Quan’s door and walking inside. “I can’t believe you’d put me back on the same team as that megalomaniac,” she said instantly, halting at the sight of him sitting at the table with the administrator, both drinking coffee.
“Nari.” Quan set down his cup. “What are you doing?”
Opal’s hair was up in an intricate bun. “More importantly, what are you talking about?” she asked.
Yeah, that’s what Nari had figured. She rounded on Quan. “You’re a smart man and you know the only reason an asshat like Vaughn would want me back on his team after I dumped his butt is to make my life miserable.” The hurt behind her anger wanted to be let loose and she held on tight.
Quan stood. “We will discuss this at another time.”
She settled. “No. We will not. You suck as a father and you suck even bigger as a boss.” She dug into her purse and withdrew her weapon and badge. “I quit. Asshole.” Then she turned on her very nice shoe and walked out the door, her head held high.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Angus sat in the passenger seat of his attorney’s Jaguar, wishing he were behind the wheel. “Why didn’t they arrest me today?”
Scott wove in and out of traffic. “They’re not done building their case, and you promised to take a lie detector test. Against my advice, by the way.” His hands were competent and the look he gave Angus one of resigned irritation. “In my experience the clients who actually listen to me don’t end up behind bars for the rest of their lives. That’s something for you to think about.”
“I won’t fail the lie detector test because I’ll tell the truth,” Angus said, watching the buildings speed by outside.
Scott took another fast turn. “I’ve had honest clients fail before; the test is only as good as the person administering it. You’re obsessed with this case, and that kind of emotion might screw you in a test.”
Angus shook his head. “I’m not worried about that.”
Scott took a sharp right next to a brick building across from a vacant field. He drove around back, where Nari’s rental car awaited. Angus had borrowed it after dropping her off safely at the HDD office. He’d waited until she’d walked inside before leaving.
“What do you think about setting up an insanity defense?” Scott asked, turning off the engine and turning to look at Angus.
Angus paused in the act of opening his door. “Are you nuts?”
“The question is, are you nuts?” Scott returned, his gaze somber. “If we need a defense, that’d be a hell of a one considering your record with the FBI. I could make you look like a freaking hero if need be.”
Angus dropped his chin. “I’m really starting not to like you.”
“I get that a lot,” Scott said.
Angus’s door was wrenched open, and the barrel of a gun pressed inside. He grabbed for it, and the shooter fired several times. One bullet ripped along Angus’s arm and pain shot up to his shoulder.
Scott bellowed.
Angus grabbed the shooter’s wrist and pulled, pushing his way outside and shoving while holding on to the gun. The guy punched him in the ear and he saw stars. He grappled with the shooter, fighting for the gun. The attacker grunted and hit his rib cage, where his burns were healing, and he coughed, nearly doubling over in pain. Even so, he kneed the asshole in the groin.
The guy was about twenty with green eyes, a blond buzz cut, and a nose that had been broken more than once. He bent over, crying out, and loosened his hold on the weapon.
Angus grabbed it free, lifted it, and shot the man several times.
Movement at the side of the car caught his eye and he turned in time to see a wide-eyed, blond woman swing a shovel at his head. His temple exploded and he went down into instant darkness.
Then, nothing. He had no idea how long he was out. He came to with a jolt, his head on fire. “What? Where?” he mumbled, feeling for the massive lump already forming on his temple. “God.” Blinking, he forced his eyes to focus as his memory returned and he found himself half-sitting in the passenger seat, his door still open. “Scott?” He turned to find the attorney slumped over the steering wheel, bleeding profusely. Was he even alive?
Angus fumbled for the guy’s phone on the dash. The blood all over his hand made it slippery, but he managed to punch out 911.
“Nine-one-one, what is your emergency?” a young female voice said.
“I have shots fired and need an ambulance,” he said tersely, his head swimming, as he gave the address. Nausea rolled up in him, and he dropped the phone, turning to puke outside his open door. Then he gasped, sucked in air, and turned to help Scott. “Where are you hit?” He felt around Scott’s forearm and found two holes. What about the head? “Hold on, buddy. I hear sirens.” They were faint, but getting louder.
Angus might’ve passed out again, and when he came to, EMTs were rushing around and Scott was already loaded into an ambulance. “I’m okay,” he said to the man checking his pulse.
“No, you’re not,” the guy said. “We need to get you to a hospital. There’s a second ambulance that’ll be here in just a couple of minutes.”
“No.” Angus tried to stand. “I’m fine. I’ll be okay.”
The EMT stood back to get out of the way. “Sir? There’s been a shooting here and you have to stay.”
Who had hit him in the temple? Who were those kids? “Listen. I have to go.”
“Not a chance,” said a low voice.
Angus turned to see Tate standing at the rear of the Jag, his bald head gleaming. “Hey. Is Scott alive?”
“Barely,” Tate said, his gaze dropping to the ground. “Step this way, Angus. Now.”
Angus caught the glint of the attacker’s gun by his foot. He walked toward Tate and away from the gun. “I’m not armed.” Which turned out to be unfortunate. He let Tate secure the weapon while he leaned against the vehicle to regain his equilibrium. “There was one shooter and one young woman with a head-splitting shovel.” He hadn’t recognized either one of them.
Tate handed the weapon over to a tech. “You’ll have to come down to the station with me and make a statement. Unless you need a doctor?”
“No. Let’s get this
over with,” Angus said, wiping his bloody hands on his jeans. “You’ll need to get the CCTV from the building to identify them.”
Tate smiled, and it definitely lacked humor. “This office is owned by one of the best criminal defense attorneys in DC, and it’s across the road from a field he also owns. Do you really think there’s any CCTV to be found? No cameras, no proof.” He leaned in. “Although you’re incredibly observant, Angus Force. Something tells me you already knew that fact.”
“Wait a minute. Why would I shoot my own lawyer?” Angus asked, blood dripping into his eye.
Tate shrugged. “Insanity defense?”
Ah, hell. Angus thought through his options, although his brain was fuzzy. “Fine. I do require medical attention.” At the very least he could get his injuries on record. He stumbled toward the oncoming ambulance. Pain swamped him. Maybe he really did need a doctor.
* * *
Nari tripped walking into Jethro’s apartment. “Thanks for picking me up.” She blinked several times to become accustomed to the darkened apartment.
“No problem,” Jethro said, flipping on the lights. “I take it you didn’t win at poker?”
“No. Pippa cleaned us all out.” Maybe Nari had drunk too many margaritas, but it was worth it. For one night she’d just had fun with her friends and forgotten all about work, serial killers, and Angus Force. Speaking of whom . . . She tilted her head and heard the guest shower running. A naked Angus Force.
Roscoe padded out of the guest bedroom, his ears perked up.
Jethro sighed. “It sounds like Angus just got home. Where was he today? Do you know?”
Nari shook her head. “No. I left him a message that I was going home with Brigid and Raider after work and I haven’t heard from him. You two weren’t together?”
“No. I had class all day.” Jethro looked at the dog. “You need to go out, buddy?”
Roscoe kept walking, stopped for Nari to pet his head, and then continued through the door.
Driven Page 21
