“Sam—” Erin protested.
“I thought you might say something like that,” Walker said, reaching to a table behind the corkboard. Reeling his hand back to his side, he dropped another cold case folder onto the table next to me.
One glance at the binder was all it took to see it was more of King’s cases. “What do you have against Detective King?”
“Take a look.” He prodded with his eyes for me to continue browsing his research.
I flicked my gaze to Erin before fingering the folder open. I turned the page, then another. It was the cold case from four years ago that was identical to how Avery was killed—much of the same information I used to write the article he had tacked to Frank Lowe’s case. “I don’t understand. Why show this to me now when you already read what I wrote about the case back then?”
“Because, Mrs. Bell,” Walker closed the gap between them, “repercussions are real, and every action has a consequence.”
Chapter Fifty-Seven
Thirty minutes later, Gemma Love exited her Uber ride and paused to make sure she wasn’t being followed. Deciding to meet at ground zero of where Officer Morgan had been attacked was her decision. The person she was meeting didn’t like the idea, but Gemma knew hiding in plain sight was the best form of disguise. Though it took some persuasion, her contact finally agreed to go along with her plan.
A natural buzz of activity was expected in Lower Downtown, and today felt no different while going about their business. Jumping on and off buses, hurrying up the sidewalks with their noses in their phones. A cop was killed and a suspect was still on the loose, but no one seemed too concerned.
Gemma moved about freely. Once she was certain she hadn’t been followed, she turned up Bassett Street and began making her way to the Railyard Dog Park.
With her cellphone in her right hand, she briskly walked while shaking off the feelings of paranoia sending waves of doubt down each of her arms.
Her and Walter’s plan was quickly crumbling and she wasn’t sure if she’d be able to save what they’d already established before it was too late. After hearing Samantha Bell ask about Frank Lowe, Gemma knew Samantha was onto them. What did she know, and who else knew it?
We can’t keep this a secret for much longer, Gemma thought to herself when mulling over their current strategy. But they needed Samantha in order to get close to King. Without her, their plan would be foiled and they’d be back to square one.
If only Samantha hadn’t seen Walter near Avery’s crime scene, then maybe their situation wouldn’t be so dire. But luck worked in mysterious ways and Gemma swore to do whatever it took to swing the pendulum in their favor—and she hoped that this meeting would do just that.
Once inside the dog park, Gemma found herself an empty bench and sat waiting to meet with her contact. Crossing her legs, her foot swung as she watched two dogs chase each other in loops. Ominous clouds billowed overhead and Gemma questioned what the weather might do when she caught sight of a man staring from behind the chain link fence. He was giving her a look that suggested he knew who she was, but she didn’t recognize his face.
Pretending not to notice, Gemma opened her purse to make sure her handgun could easily be reached if she had to use it. Her heart beat in a steady drum as she discreetly snapped a photo of the person staring. Though she was certain no one knew what she and Walker were up to exactly, she also didn’t want to make the assumption that their secret was safe.
A trained marksman, Gemma carried for both recreation and self-defense. Walker taught her, convinced her it was a necessity in today’s world, and now she was glad to have a gun close by—if only to provide the false sense of confidence needed to get through today’s meeting.
Gemma lifted her chin and swept her gaze across the horizon, pretending not to notice the man still staring with intense eyes. As her nerves sent waves of heat up her collar, she thought about how their plan depended entirely on Samantha’s next move. Gemma hoped she’d make the right decision. In the end, Gemma was only after one thing—the truth.
A stocky man sat on the bench next to her. He was so quiet, Gemma didn’t notice until he was already there. She turned her head before she was told to stop.
“Don’t look at me,” the man said in a low whisper. “Pretend like we don’t know each other. There are too many cops around to take any chances.”
Gemma turned her head to where the man she saw staring only a moment ago was standing. He was gone, and now she was second guessing her decision to come alone.
“It’s possible we’re being watched,” she warned.
Continuing to pretend like they didn’t know each other, the man asked, “Were you followed?”
Gemma looked in the opposite direction. “No.”
Her contact slid a folder toward her thigh and Gemma retrieved it.
She asked, “Is everything here?”
“Everything you requested is inside.”
Her eyebrows squished. “Feels a bit thin.”
“Everything you need is there.” A dog barked in front of them and took off running back to its owner. “Frank Lowe knows who’s responsible.”
“You’re certain?”
Their eyes met for the first time. He nodded his head, then said, “You made a mistake stopping by last night.”
Gemma didn’t make mistakes. “Walter saw you in the park.” The man never blinked. “You should have known not to go there after seeing me at your cousin’s.”
Marty Ray looked away—once again pretending not to know Gemma.
Gemma packed the folder away into her tote and stood. Looking down at Marty, she said, “If Walter knows, others know, too.”
Marty gave an arched look. “I didn’t kill that woman.”
“No?” Gemma began stepping away. “Tell that to the cops after they arrest you.”
Chapter Fifty-Eight
As King approached Angelina, he noticed her hands clasped together in a white knuckle grip that suggested she had heard the news of what happened to Avery Morgan. His heart thumped hard in his chest, wishing this week would get easier. He knew it wouldn’t—not until they captured whoever was behind these attacks. Once within earshot, he asked, “What are you doing here?”
Angelina’s round eyes traveled over King’s shoulder as she watched him and John Alvarez approach. “I came to see your mom.” She looked down at her feet before meeting his eye again and saying, “I heard what happened last night.” Her eyes held questions she didn’t want to ask. “The news said it was a cop?”
King’s core temperature spiked and his heart stopped. Nodding, he said, “It was Officer Morgan.”
Angelina gasped and brought a shaky hand to her mouth. He watched her face crumble as she put the timeline of events together—Avery was killed while they were enjoying dinner. After taking a moment, she said in a soft voice, “I’m so sorry.”
“Yeah. Me too,” King said somberly.
Angelina turned her head and stared in Alvarez’s direction. “Your mom must be devastated.”
“She doesn’t know.” King relayed how his mother had a long night without ever name-dropping the Pillow Strangler or Orville Boyd and was now finally sleeping. “I couldn’t tell her. Not after what happened to your mother.”
Angelina reached for King’s hand, prodding it for relief, comfort. A breeze swirled around them as the sun disappeared behind a thick cloud. The temperature dropped a degree but King’s body still radiated heat.
Angelina said, “I’ve been doing a lot of thinking.”
King wished he had time to do some thinking himself, but his last forty-eight hours had been nonstop. One punch after another. There was little time for reflection and, with each minute that passed, it only grew more difficult to catch the killer before he or she got away forever.
“I wish things worked out differently between us.” Angelina forced a weak smile.
King felt Angelina’s eyes on his, but he couldn’t lift his gaze away from her hand holdi
ng his. He felt the throb of her heart pulse in the tips of her fingers and he couldn’t stop wondering what his mother may have told Angelina after he left the dinner party early.
“I know it’s silly to think about, but do you ever ask yourself what might have been?”
King still couldn’t look her in her eye. He’d asked himself that same question hundreds of times before, and he always had an answer. But not today.
“I never told you this,” Angelina’s thumb brushed over King’s knuckles, “and it still makes me cry every time I think about it—” King felt his throat begin to close. He didn’t know what to say to get her to stop so he let her continue on. When their eyes met, Angelina continued, “—but even though I called off our engagement, your father still loved me the same.”
King thought about how much his father liked Angelina—how he was so happy the day he learned she would join the family. “He was a great man,” King said.
“The greatest.” Angelina squeezed King’s hand and smiled.
Alvarez called out, and when King turned to look, his partner tapped his watch with his index finger indicating it was time for them to go.
“I’m sorry,” Angelina said. “I know you probably have lots of work to do.”
King pulled his hand free from Angelina’s grasp and told his partner to hang on just one moment longer. When he swept his eyes back to Angelina, he feared she might be confusing grief with jealousy after seeing him with Samantha but decided to let it go.
Angelina angled her head to the side and asked if the police had made an arrest for her mother’s murder.
“No.” King sighed. “Not yet.”
“Any chance what happened last night is related to my mother’s case?”
King’s eyes squinted as he wondered what would make her think that. Was it that obvious he was the common denominator? He was once again wondering what his mother might have said on their drive back to her residence last night. Everyone was seeking answers, but King had none.
“I really need to be going,” King said, extinguishing the glimmer in Angelina’s eyes. His cellphone started buzzing in his pocket.
Angelina dropped her chin and cast her gaze to the tips of her toes as she nodded. “I understand.”
“I hope you stay and visit with Mom.” King’s phone was still ringing as he gripped the device inside his hand.
She nodded and looked up at King from behind a curtain of dark eyelashes.
Her hair was blowing over her face and King couldn’t deny how attractive she still was. “Break the news to her gently, will you?”
“Goes without saying.” Angelina hooked her hands on King’s shoulders, pulled her up to his cheek, and gave him a gentle kiss before heading inside to visit with Carol King.
Chapter Fifty-Nine
“He left, Alex. Marty is gone.”
King covered his opposite ear with his hand and asked Samantha, “Well do you know where he went?”
“You’re not going to believe this, but Allison thinks he’s headed to Commons Park.”
King’s eyebrows squished as he watched Alvarez open his car door. His partner caught King staring and he stopped to listen. If Marty was responsible for Avery’s death, would he go back to the scene of the crime? Repeat offenders didn’t change.
Samantha raised her voice. “Tell me you have eyes on him.”
“Sam, I was just visiting my mother.” He briefly explained Carol’s nightmares, reassuring Samantha it was nothing more than his mother’s imagination, then said, “We’re sifting through a lot of leads, as you can imagine.”
“So my advice means nothing to you?”
King rolled his shoulders back and wrinkled his brow. “Of course it does.”
“Then tell me you’ve at least looked into him.”
King shook his head to Alvarez, covered the mouth piece with his hand, and told him it was Samantha on the line. He turned his back and said, “Can’t we talk about this when you bring me Mason?”
Sam’s growl traveled through the line. “Was Allison right? Did her cousin kill Avery?”
“We don’t know anything yet.”
“Then why give my editor a picture of him to print next to my column?” Samantha barked through the phone.
King knew Sam was on edge—could hear it in her voice—but the situation wasn’t as simple as she wanted it to be. “I haven’t seen your story and I don’t know anything about this picture you’re referring to.”
“Then let me tell you about it.” Samantha’s words were rapidly firing off the tip of her tongue. “It’s a blurry image but it sure looks like it could be Marty, and now the entire city has their eyes out for this one man.”
“You’ll have to ask your editor about that,” King said when thinking about what Lieutenant Baker showed him earlier. King also sensed Sam had new information. “I wish you would have said goodbye earlier.”
Samantha apologized. “There is something I need to ask you.”
The load on King’s shoulder’s lifted as soon as his gamble paid off. But if he wanted Samantha to open up further, he couldn’t sound too urgent. “Can’t this wait?”
“I’m afraid it can’t.” The wind kicked up and ruffled the connection. “I might know who left you that note on Erin’s door.”
King’s eyebrows pinched as he recalled stomping out the fire on Erin’s front porch. It was what might have begun this latest killing spree that reminded him of his imperfections. But, more importantly, it was the first real piece of evidence that could lead King to whoever might be behind these crimes. “Dare I ask how you discovered this piece of information?”
“Alex. Listen to me—”
King heard his name being called from behind him. He swung his head toward the building and caught his ex waving her fingers at him before disappearing inside.
“—it might have been Angelina.”
Chapter Sixty
Susan swiped her thumb across the display screen of her cellphone and checked the time. Hazel Beck saw her and said, “Relax. He’ll show.”
Susan sighed, deciding she didn’t like it when someone was late without giving her a reason why. But what she disliked even more than that was being near Commons Park only hours after she knew someone had been murdered.
She lowered her phone to her side and continued scanning the area with her eyes. There were people everywhere—biking, driving, and briskly walking up and down the sidewalk. Oddly, they seemed to act like nothing happened here last night. Did they not know? Or did they just not care?
“That’s not what I’m worried about.” Susan’s eyes locked on Hazel’s.
Over the last thirty minutes, they had traveled up and down two different streets looking for an alternative route to tomorrow’s marathon. She was confident the marathon safety director, Tristan Knight, would sign off on their new proposed plan, but doubted the city would be able to sign on, too. There were too many streets that would have to be closed off, too many businesses effected by the volume of foot traffic they estimated. Most of all, Susan feared her promises to little Katie Garcia would go unfulfilled. Combined, her stress levels were through the roof.
“This will work, Susan,” Hazel said, reading Susan’s anxieties. “Tristan has always been on board with my plans and there is no reason to suggest today will be any different.”
“What about Chief Watts? Will he agree to it?”
Hazel sucked back a breath through her teeth. “He’s a tough sell, but reasonable.”
They were expecting both men to show at any moment. Though Tristan might be the easy link, getting Chief Watts on board was a different challenge—especially after they learned a Denver Police Officer had been murdered last night.
Hazel asked, “What other options do we have?”
Susan flicked the hair out of her face and thought of the two options they had already come up with. “You’re right. We have to make this work,” she said, feeling chills scurry over her arms. She hugged herself as her e
yes stopped wandering the streets and locked on Commons Park once again. “There is a chill in my bones just thinking about what happened here last night.”
Hazel followed Susan’s gaze and frowned. They’d been reluctant to discuss the crime—too focused on their task at hand—but now that they were stuck waiting, the inevitable finally surfaced. “You saw the picture of who the police are looking for, didn’t you?”
Susan had. “He looks like about a dozen people I know.”
Hazel squinted her eyes, a distant gaze traveling to the ravine near the river. “He could be walking among us.”
“Why would you say that?” Susan snapped.
“I hope you’re not talking about me.” Tristan arrived with a backpack slung over his shoulder.
The women turned and welcomed Tristan into their circle. “We were just discussing the murder that happened in the park last night,” Hazel said.
“Tragic, isn’t it?” Tristan shook his head as they all stared into the park. He turned his head and said, “You know, I met her?”
Susan said, “The woman who was killed?”
Tristan looked her in the eye and nodded. “You did too.”
Susan stared with parted lips as Tristan reminded Susan about the young woman who signed up for the marathon yesterday. “I couldn’t find her name in the system,” she said, shocked it took her this long to make the connection to the image of Avery Morgan in Samantha’s article, but yesterday’s sign up had been hectic.
Tristan’s eyes moved to Hazel. “She was running for the Denver Police Foundation.”
As soon as Susan remembered the shirt Avery had been wearing, she rubbed her face inside her hands and murmured, “Oh my god, I had completely forgotten.”
“Complete irony,” Tristan said, staring at the police tape fluttering in the breeze.
Hazel angled her hips to Tristan. “So, would you like to hear our alternate route while we wait for Chief Watts to arrive?”
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