Cincinnati, Ohio,
Saturday 19 December, 7.20 P.M.
Adam walked into Buon Cibo and came face to face with the bar. He closed his eyes. Most days he could walk into a restaurant and ignore the bottles filled with . . .
He shuddered. Filled with everything he craved. His fingers twitched and he shoved his hands into his pockets. No booze. You just think you want it. You don’t need it.
Clenching his teeth, he turned for the dining room to find Quincy Taylor watching him so steadily, so knowingly, that Adam nearly looked away in shame. But he didn’t. Because he’d kept his hands in his pockets and had not reached for any of the bottles behind the bar. He’d take that as a small win.
Baby steps. Nearly a year of baby steps. But he was almost there. Almost to a year. And then . . . well, he’d planned to talk to Meredith then. But it looked like that conversation was going to happen sooner than he’d planned. Tonight. He’d tell her tonight.
Quincy had gone back to taking photographs of the overturned table closest to the shattered window. The dining room was a mess. Tables were overturned and flatware, dishes, food, and menus were strewn over the dining room floor, but the focal point was one white tablecloth, horribly askew and stained with blood.
‘That’s where Meredith and Mallory were sitting?’ Adam asked.
Quincy lowered the camera. ‘Yes.’ He looked down, nodding when he saw Adam’s shoes covered in booties. ‘You can come over here, but be careful. There’s a puddle of vomit on the floor just to the right of the table there.’ He lifted a brow. ‘Meredith was afraid she’d contaminated the scene. Said she tried to direct it away from the remains.’
Adam swallowed hard, not wanting to visualize her crouched on the floor, terrified and covered in human remains. ‘She’s . . . a responsible person.’
Quincy snorted. ‘Of all the adjectives, responsible was the best you could do?’
Embarrassed, Adam approached gingerly, watching where he placed his feet. ‘I’m sorry. I was out of line when I . . .’ He faltered, not sure how to describe what he was apologizing for.
‘For glaring at me like I was poaching on your territory?’ Quincy was unamused. ‘I’ve had the chance to talk to Dr Fallon a few times in the past and I’m acquainted with her play therapy techniques. I like her. She’s smart and has a kind heart. And that’s all. She’s nobody’s territory. Possessiveness is not an admirable character trait.’
‘You’re right,’ Adam said simply. ‘It’s not. Jealousy isn’t terribly attractive either. I apologize.’
Quincy gave him a sharp look. ‘Apology accepted.’ He resumed photographing the scene around the table. ‘And if it makes you feel better, she is not my type.’
The last sentence was said in a way that made Adam clearly understand. And feel even more embarrassed and stupid. But also relieved. ‘Oh?’
Quincy snorted again. ‘Neither are you, Detective.’
Adam laughed. ‘Now I think my feelings are hurt.’
Quincy smiled wryly. ‘Pretty sure you’ll live.’
Adam sobered. ‘She might not have. How close did the second shot come?’
‘Close as I can figure without running trajectories through my computer model? If Mallory hadn’t pulled her down, this scene would look very different.’
Adam’s chest seized up, his breath freezing in his lungs. He forced the breath out, told himself that she was all right. That she hadn’t been hit. He crossed around the table and found himself staring down at the body of the young man who’d told her to run.
Adam cleared his throat. ‘One of the diners caught him on video, so we have his face.’ Which was extremely fortunate as there wasn’t much left of it. The victim lay on his back, arms positioned at his sides. ‘I assume this isn’t how the bomb squad found him?’
‘No. The team used a robot to defuse the device. They had to get him into a position to safely remove the vest, but we have a 3D photographic record of the scene, including the body before anyone moved it. The victim was crumpled in a heap. The bullet came from the curb, directly opposite the window. The bullet entered the back of the victim’s head, probably ricocheted inside the skull, and exited at the left temple. The ME will confirm that, of course. Dr Washington is on her way.’
‘Where is the bullet?’
‘Found it outside. It passed through the already broken window and was stopped by the ground outside.’
Adam looked out the window to where a numbered marker sat on the snow. ‘So Meredith was lucky again. If it had gone straight through . . .’ I would have lost her before I got the chance to tell her the truth. But the truth was that he’d had plenty of chances. Months’ worth. He’d wasted all of them because of his stupid pride. I’m an idiot. ‘Shit.’
Quincy nodded. ‘She was very lucky.’
‘Are we certain that the body isn’t still a threat? Could whoever coerced this kid to walk in here with a bomb strapped to his chest have booby-trapped him somehow?’
‘Not with anything visible. The team did a scan of the body after they removed the vest. The ME will do a CT scan of the body before beginning the autopsy.’
Gathering the tail of his coat under his arm, Adam crouched next to the body. ‘Did the X-ray show any ID in his pockets?’
‘Nope. Sorry. Dr Washington will take his prints when she gets him to the morgue. Hopefully, he’s in the system.’
‘Hopefully, he’s local and someone will recognize him.’ Adam noted the yellowed fingertips. ‘He was a smoker.’
‘Doesn’t appear to have any cigarettes on him, though.’
Adam stared at the body for a long moment, willing something to show up, to tell him something more about the young man who’d told Meredith to run.
But there wasn’t anything. Not yet. He stood up, backing away carefully. ‘I’ve got an interview to do. You’ll let me know if you find anything?’
‘Absolutely.’ Quincy hesitated. ‘You have protection lined up for Dr Fallon, right?’
‘I’ve got two unmarked cars on her street. Right now she’s being guarded by Diesel Kennedy and her grandfather, who is apparently Diesel’s twin.’ And Adam was apparently jealous of the two men too, because he desperately wanted to be guarding her himself.
‘Good. You got any suspects yet?’
‘She was stalked, but she won’t say by whom. She’s protecting a client’s privacy.’
‘Damn ethics,’ Quincy growled.
Adam sighed. ‘Yeah, except I respect her ethics.’ He truly did, especially because Meredith protected children. It was just one of the things that had drawn him to her from the very beginning. ‘But I don’t want her ethics to kill her, either.’
Which was why if he hadn’t identified her stalker by nine p.m., he was going to press her again. Harder this time.
And will that be before or after you explain things and hope she still wants you?
He had no idea. He only knew he had to keep her alive or nothing else mattered.
Cincinnati, Ohio,
Saturday 19 December, 8.15 P.M.
Adam got off the precinct elevator and went straight to Isenberg’s office. She was on the phone and held up a hand for him to wait, then pointed to the chair in front of her desk.
‘Yes,’ she said to whomever she was talking to, ‘we have a few leads and we are following them up with all urgency. I have my best people working on this case . . .’ She rolled her eyes. ‘The FBI is working with us. Special Agent in Charge Zimmerman and I have been in frequent contact. This appears to have been a targeted attack against a single individual.’ She listened, wincing as the caller’s voice grew loud and shrill. ‘I am aware that a bomb was involved, but there’s no reason to believe the city is in any further danger. Look, I understand people are afraid.’ Another wince and she held the phone away from her ear. ‘Yes, I am aware that it’s near Christmas. I’ll be better able to promise the downtown business owners uninterrupted holiday sales by catching the person or persons behind this. For that, I need to get back to work. I’ll keep you apprised. Goodbye.’ She hung up, closed her eyes for the length of a loud sigh. ‘Hell.’
‘The mayor, I take it?’ Adam asked.
‘Yeah.’ She pushed a folder across the desk to Adam. ‘People are scared to shop downtown now.’
‘I can understand that.’ He opened the folder and went completely still. It was a photo of Meredith, a side view of her speaking to her priest in the middle of a crowd. Behind the priest stood a man, smiling at her. The priest couldn’t see him, but Meredith did. It was evident in the tightness around her mouth, the narrowing of her eyes. She was pissed off. And afraid.
Adam had to close his eyes for a moment, to battle back the roar of rage. Holding on to his control, he began flipping through the photos. There were at least a dozen, taken from surveillance footage at the church, the grocery store, and the running track. All featured Meredith and the man. In each one, he hovered an arm’s length away. Just close enough that she would know he was there. And in each photo, she knew.
The man was in his mid-forties, average height and weight. Handsome, with an arrogant smile that said he knew it and expected everyone else to know it too. He was well-dressed, the suit he’d worn to church fitting him like it had been made for him.
The last photo was grainier, taken by a security camera in the Kroger parking lot. The same man was getting into a Lamborghini. A fucking Lamborghini.
Adam made sure his voice was steady before he spoke. ‘Do we know who he is?’
‘Yes. His name is Broderick Voss.’ She leaned back in her chair, waiting.
‘Am I supposed to know who he is?’ Adam asked.
‘Probably only if you read the financial pages. He’s the CEO of Buzz Boys. They went public a few years back. He orchestrated the IPO. Thus, the Lamborghini.’
‘Whoa.’ The company’s name he knew. Buzz Boys gathered consumer preference opinions, a necessary service in a city of consumer products manufacturers. ‘So someone connected to Voss is seeing Meredith for counseling. Do you know who?’
‘Nope. Got the photos while I was talking to the mayor. Was going to text you, but you showed up instead. Ball’s in your court, Adam.’ She studied him carefully. ‘Take someone with you when you question him. He’s very influential in this town. He could make allegations against you that were totally false, but could still hurt your career.’
‘What a prince,’ Adam muttered, appreciating that his boss had his back. ‘I’ll take Agent Triplett with me. First I need to question the restaurant’s hostess. Scarlett’s got her in Interview Three. You wanna observe?’
Isenberg cocked a brow. ‘This is the woman whose combat boot is responsible for that bruise on Scarlett’s jaw? I think I will.’
‘Good. In the meantime, do you have an address for Mr Voss? I want to put a car outside his residence. Just in case he gets wind of our impending visit and tries to leave town. He could charter a private jet and slip out of our grip.’
‘He doesn’t need to charter one,’ Isenberg said grimly. ‘He owns one.’
Adam sighed. ‘Of course he does.’
Cincinnati, Ohio,
Saturday 19 December, 8.15 P.M.
‘Well, shit.’
Meredith looked up from the intricate Moroccan tile design she was coloring to see Diesel scowling at his laptop screen. ‘What?’
‘Voss couldn’t have been in front of the restaurant today. He was speaking to a room full of donors at a thousand-dollar-a-plate fund-raiser.’
‘Well, shit,’ Meredith echoed. ‘What was the fund-raiser’s cause?’
‘Let’s see . . .’ He scrolled down, made a sound of disgust. ‘It was for a state senator’s reelection campaign. There are rumors that Voss plans to run.’
‘Not a shock. He’s a rich and powerful narcissistic sociopath.’
‘Fancy words for “asshole,”’ Diesel muttered.
Meredith put her coloring aside and checked her list. Wendi had called and nagged her until she’d finally promised to write down the names of everyone who’d threatened her. The list was two pages long. Two pages. She’d had no idea there had been so many. ‘Should we mark him off and go to the next one?’
Diesel shook his bald head. ‘No, not yet. Just because he wasn’t there didn’t mean he didn’t have someone else do it.’ He met her eyes over his computer screen. ‘Today had professional hit written all over it. You pissed off the Mafia lately?’
‘Shh,’ Meredith scolded, looking at the door to her basement, where her grandfather napped in the spare bedroom. Declaring himself worn out from the travel, he’d excused himself to rest, but only because Diesel had promised not to leave Meredith’s side. ‘That’s the last thing Papa needs to worry about.’
‘That wasn’t a no,’ Diesel noted astutely. ‘Gimme the list.’
‘No. We’ll work our way down. Half these people are dead or in jail, anyway.’
‘Cheerful thought.’ He wasn’t being sarcastic.
‘What are you doing now?’ she asked to change the subject.
‘Looking for Voss’s bank account.’
Meredith’s eyes popped wide. ‘You can do that?’
‘I’m insulted.’ Now he was being sarcastic. He actually preened at her awe.
‘I don’t want to know how much money he has, when you find it.’
‘Fine.’ His cell phone buzzed with an incoming text. He took a second to type in a reply, then looked up with a surprising twinkle in his eyes.
‘What did you do?’ Meredith demanded warily, then gasped when he held up his phone. Adam had texted: Is she ok?
Diesel’s response was more to the point than he could ever know. Better than ok. We’re @ kitchen table. Drinking tea. Coloring.
That had been what she and Adam had done the last time he’d come to her, seeking comfort after a very difficult day at work. The night Adam had made a point of saying they wouldn’t end up the way they had the first time he’d come to her for comfort – in her bed.
‘Diesel,’ she groaned. He’s going to think that Diesel and I . . . ‘You lied to him.’
‘I did not. We have tea and you’re coloring. I’m just keeping him on his toes. Can’t let him get complacent. Can’t let him think there’s no competition, after all.’
She rolled her eyes. ‘There isn’t. Everyone knows you’re so gone on Dani Novak that you can’t see straight.’ Diesel’s grin abruptly vanished and Meredith wanted to kick her own ass. ‘I’m sorry. That was thoughtless of me. It’s your business. Yours and Dani’s.’
He dropped his gaze to his keyboard. ‘It’s all right. Go back to your coloring. I’ll tell you when I’m ready for the next name on your list.’
Meredith pinched the bridge of her nose. ‘For a therapist, I am an insensitive asswipe.’ She splashed a few ounces of whiskey into her empty teacup. ‘You want a refill?’
He pushed his glass toward the bottle. ‘Yes,’ he said, his voice like gravel. ‘Please.’
She obliged, then opened a new text window on her own phone. Adam would think she’d betrayed his trust. She needed him to know she hadn’t. For his sake and for mine.
Cincinnati, Ohio,
Saturday 19 December, 8.30 P.M.
Adam and Isenberg joined Scarlett and Deacon in the observation room, where they watched Colleen Martel through the one-way glass. The young woman sat handcuffed to the chair, her expression one of grim resignation.
‘Her prints were on the envelope and the money,’ Scarlett said. ‘Two hundred dollars, in unmarked, well-worn twenties.’
‘She say where it came from?’ Adam asked.
Scarlett shook her head. ‘She hasn’t said anything, except “I plead the Fifth.”’
‘She hasn’t asked for a lawyer?’ Isenberg asked.
‘Not even once,’ Deacon answered. ‘Not in the car and not since we’ve been here.’
That was interesting, Adam thought. ‘Has she gone through booking yet?’
‘Not completely,’ Scarlett said, handing him a folder. ‘We haven’t filed the paperwork to get her in the system, but it’s ready. She’s been Mirandized.’
‘We might be able to use that,’ Adam said. ‘She wanted to be taken away through the back. She’s afraid of something. Or someone. Once she’s in the system, she’s visible.’
Isenberg looked pleased. ‘You’re going to let her believe she can wiggle out of this. You think she’s that gullible?’
‘She tried to escape the hotel through a heating duct,’ Adam said dryly. ‘What I think is that she watches way too much television. She would have broken the duct the moment she put her full weight on it.’ He looked at Scarlett’s jaw, where a bruise had started to darken in the pattern of the toe of Colleen’s boot. ‘I think I’ll save you for a Hail Mary,’ he said to Scarlett, because the girl would not respond to her right away. Scarlett had put her hands on Colleen already, both to yank her out of the duct and to cuff her. It could be implied that she’d do it again, even if Scarlett had no intention of doing so. He’d use her for the uber-bad cop if he couldn’t get answers. ‘Deacon, has she seen your eyes?’
‘No.’ Deacon wasn’t wearing his wraparound shades at the moment. ‘You want me to spook her?’
‘It’s your special gift,’ Adam said lightly. He glanced at Isenberg. ‘Any advice?’
‘Don’t fuck it up,’ she said, making him snort a laugh.
‘Thank you, O wise one.’
Scarlett pointed to a box on one of the chairs. ‘Her personal effects. Including her cell phone. She received a call Thursday from an untraceable number. They talked for three minutes. She texted that same number this morning saying “Thanks.”’
Adam retrieved the box. ‘Good to know. Thank you.’ He left the observation room and entered the interview room, followed by Deacon, who’d slid his wraparounds over his eyes. He took the seat across from Colleen and motioned Deacon into the chair next to her.
Within thirty seconds Colleen began to squirm. ‘I didn’t do anything wrong!’
‘I suppose that’s what we’re here to find out,’ Adam said mildly.
‘I don’t have to talk to you. I know my rights.’
‘That’s true. But I hope you’ll decide to.’ He made a show of checking the folder containing Scarlett’s report, then let out an annoyed sigh. ‘Bishop didn’t file this paperwork.’
‘She was distracted,’ Deacon said blandly. ‘Had to ice her jaw.’
Colleen glanced at Deacon, then at Adam. She said nothing, but her mouth took on a slight curve, her shoulders straightening. Instantly, she looked more hopeful. Which was exactly what Adam wanted.
‘She’s always distracted by something,’ Adam growled.
‘I’ll make her file it when we’re done here,’ Deacon promised. ‘Like I always do.’
Adam saw the flash of satisfaction in Colleen’s eyes. Good. By putting down Scarlett, they’d become Colleen’s allies. ‘So you’re the hostess at Buon Cibo.’
Her satisfaction dissipated. ‘I was,’ she muttered.
Adam walked around the table and leaned against its edge, not quite in Colleen’s space, but close enough to make her cringe away. ‘Why “was”? Did you quit?’
‘No,’ she said sullenly.
‘They fired you?’ Adam pressed. ‘At Christmas? That’s unkind.’
‘They haven’t fired me. Not yet.’
‘I see.’ Adam crossed his arms over his chest. ‘Your job is to seat people, so you seated the two women today. Is that correct?’
‘You mean the redhead and the skinny girl?’ Colleen asked, her chin jutting out rebelliously. But her lips trembled, ruining the effect.
‘You mean the two guests who someone tried to murder?’ Deacon’s voice was icy. He’d removed his sunglasses.
Colleen jerked her head sideways to reply, but she caught sight of Deacon’s eyes and her mouth fell open, her eyes growing wide. ‘You’re—’
‘Why did you seat the redhead at the table by the window?’ Adam interrupted, taking advantage of Colleen’s momentary shock at seeing his cousin’s bicolored cat-like eyes, each one half blue and half brown.
‘He told me to!’ Colleen blurted out, then her eyes filled with sheer panic. She closed her eyes, her misery clear. ‘Fuck you both. I bet those are contact lenses.’
‘Who told you to?’ Adam demanded, huffing impatiently when Colleen shook her head stubbornly. ‘Miss Martel, I swear that I will dig so deep into your personal life that you’ll be able to see China.’
‘I didn’t do anything wrong!’ Tears were now streaming down her cheeks.
Adam shrugged. ‘Maybe you did, maybe you didn’t. Right now I don’t care. I just need to know who told you to seat Dr Fallon and her companion at that particular table. Someone tried to blow up your place of employment today. Dozens of people could have been killed. You think he’s finished? You think he won’t come back?’ Her teeth were still clenched so he leaned in a little closer. ‘You think he won’t come back for you?’
Colleen recoiled, swallowing audibly. ‘Me? I didn’t do anything! Why would he come for me?’ He wondered if she thought she was anything close to convincing.
Adam kept his voice gentle. ‘You communicated with him, Miss Martel. You just said “He told me to.” You are a loose end.’ He let that sink in. ‘If we catch him, you’ll be safe, so you’d be wise to tell me what you know. What you did. Otherwise, he stays out there on the street. You will be next and nobody wants that. Help us help you.’
Her shoulders sagged once again. ‘He asked me to seat them at that table. Said he was going to surprise her. That he was going to stand outside the window and propose.’
‘Who?’ Deacon demanded coldly, maintaining his role of bad cop.
‘I d-don’t know,’ she stuttered nervously. ‘He didn’t give me a name. I never saw him. I only talked to him on the phone.’
Deacon sneered. ‘You expect us to believe that you did this out of the goodness of your heart?’
‘No! I mean yes. I mean . . .’ She closed her eyes in a long blink. ‘He told me that he’d leave me an envelope with cash at the podium where I sign customers in. A tip.’
‘Two hundred dollars is an awfully big tip,’ Adam said, and held up his hand when she started to protest. ‘Don’t bother denying it. Your fingerprints were all over every bill.’
‘You sold out two women for two hundred bucks.’ Deacon ground out the furious words. ‘There might have been a hundred people hurt or killed if that bomb had gone off. You would have been killed too, in case that fact missed your attention.’
Colleen began crying, but Adam didn’t believe her tears any more than he believed anything she’d said. ‘I didn’t know what he was going to do. He said he wanted to propose.’
‘Even if that’s true, you didn’t think two hundred dollars was a lot of money just to seat his lady love?’ Deacon asked, derision dripping from every word.
‘That’s not my money. I found it. I was afraid you’d accuse me of something.’ Colleen shrugged tearfully. ‘I don’t know what else you want from me.’
‘We want you to tell the truth,’ Adam snarled, suddenly furious. ‘When did he call you? I want a time and date.’
She flinched, then pointed to the folder. ‘If I tell you, will you still arrest me?’
‘That depends on what you tell me,’ Adam lied smoothly. Because she was so fucking arrested. ‘Time and date.’
‘Thursday night. I don’t know the exact time. I was on duty at the front.’
She still hadn’t demanded a lawyer. ‘How did he contact you?’
She lifted a shoulder. ‘Restaurant phone, of course.’
Deacon fished her cell phone from the evidence box. ‘You got a call at eight thirty on Thursday.’
‘That wasn’t him,’ Colleen said. ‘I told you, he called on the restaurant’s phone.’
‘Along with a dozen other people legitimately asking for reservations.’ Deacon tilted his head, studying the young woman. ‘Clever, actually.’
Because that would be very difficult to disprove one way or the other. ‘She could be telling the truth,’ Adam said, reassuming the good cop role. ‘Who called your cell?’
Colleen licked her lips nervously. ‘My boyfriend.’
‘Oh, good,’ Adam said with a smile. ‘Then you won’t mind if Agent Novak calls your boyfriend right now. We’d like to rule him out as quickly as possible. Be sure to introduce yourself to whoever answers, Agent Novak. Use your whole title, you know, including the fact that you’re with the major case joint task force, investigating a homicide.’
Colleen glared. ‘Fine,’ she gritted out. ‘You win, all right? Don’t call that number.’
‘Because?’ Adam asked, still playing nice.
‘Because I don’t want him coming back for me!’ Colleen shouted, then slumped into the chair. ‘Look. He did tell me that he wanted to propose. I did think it was a lot of money, but I didn’t know what he really planned to do, okay? That’s the truth. He didn’t sound very friendly, but who am I to judge?’
‘How did he sound?’ Deacon asked. ‘Be specific.’
‘Deep and gravelly.’ She shrugged, then met Adam’s eyes directly. ‘I did not know he was going to try to kill the redhead. And I’m sorry that the kid was killed.’
‘You let the victim pass through,’ Deacon said. ‘You didn’t walk him to a table.’
She looked uncomfortable. ‘The man on the phone asked me not to.’
‘So he told you to expect someone to walk into the restaurant and up to the table?’ Deacon asked.
‘Yes. But I thought he was part of the proposal.’
‘Did he look happy when he walked in?’ Adam asked, knowing the answer. He’d seen the young man’s miserable expression on the tape Trip had shown him.
She hung her head. ‘No. But then I thought he was still part of it – like maybe he was serving her with divorce papers or something. I’ve seen that happen before. The amount of money made sense then. If he wanted to get her reaction on camera to something bad . . .’ She trailed off, looking truly sorry for the first time. ‘I didn’t expect what happened. You gotta believe me.’
Like hell I do. ‘Thank you,’ Adam told her formally. ‘We’re finished for now.’
Colleen brightened. ‘Does this mean you won’t arrest me?’
Not on your life. Or on Meredith’s life. Or on the life of the John Doe whose body had grown cold on the floor of the crime scene. ‘No.’
Her mouth fell open again. ‘But you said . . . That’s not fair!’
Adam shrugged. ‘What can I say? Life’s a bitch.’
‘He’ll kill me,’ she said with all certainty.
Adam leaned in. ‘I believe that you believe that. Tell me how you know and I’ll be more likely to believe you too.’
She turned away. ‘I’m a loose end, just like you said.’
‘He had your personal cell phone number,’ Adam commented.
Her gaze rocketed back to his. She truly seemed terrified. ‘I don’t know how.’
She still hadn’t lawyered up, despite being terrified of spending a night in jail. ‘You are entitled to an attorney, you know,’ he said, testing the waters.
She blanched. ‘No. I don’t want one. I don’t want an attorney.’
‘You not having an attorney won’t keep you out of court,’ Deacon said quietly.
She dropped her chin to her chest with a moan, rocking in the chair to which she was cuffed. ‘I’m dead, I’m dead, I’m dead.’
Adam pushed to his feet. ‘I’ll be back.’ He went to the observation room and closed the door. ‘The only truth she’s told is this right here. The fear that she’s going to be killed.’
‘Agreed,’ Isenberg said. ‘She’s more afraid of “him” than of us. Recommendations?’
‘Let her go with a tail and let “him” find her,’ Scarlett said bluntly. ‘Use her as bait.’
‘Or . . .’ Adam said, giving Scarlett a look of mild reproach, ‘we can put her in a high security lockup and monitor anyone who comes close. That way she’s protected bait.’
Isenberg nodded. ‘Do it. Scarlett and Deacon can do the paperwork.’
Adam checked his phone. ‘Thanks, because I still have to meet Trip and pay a visit to Broderick Voss. I want to know if he has a deep, gravelly voice.’ He handed the folder with the police report to Scarlett, who looked decidedly unhappy.
‘I like my way better,’ Scarlett muttered, touching her jaw gingerly. ‘Goddamn bitch in combat boots.’
Adam patted her back. ‘You can make up an awesome story to tell when people ask you where you got the bruise. Like you were fighting off ninjas. It’s way better than admitting you got kicked by a skinny girl with combat boots.’
Her lip curled in a sneer, but then her lips twitched. ‘I can get behind ninjas. But you gotta promise to back me up.’
‘Deal.’ Adam returned to the interview room where Colleen was still curled into herself, rocking on the chair, and he wondered if her fear was that acute or if she was trying to get a psych placement. He figured it was the second one.
‘We’re going to put you in protective custody, Miss Martel,’ Adam told her.
The rocking abruptly stopped and Colleen looked up, eyes narrowed. ‘What does that mean?’
‘It means you’re under arrest, but we aren’t going to put you with the general population. You’ll be held in a secure area. In return, we expect your cooperation.’
‘Like what?’
‘Like participating in a vocal lineup. We’re going to want you to identify the voice you heard on the phone.’
She looked wary. ‘I think I can do that.’
‘Good.’ Adam motioned for Deacon to follow him into the hallway. They shut the door on Colleen and Adam said, ‘Scarlett’s got the paperwork. You’re both to escort her to a high security lockup.’
‘Where are you off to?’ Deacon asked.
‘To see this guy.’ Adam showed Deacon the surveillance photographs of Broderick Voss, and explained who he was.
‘You want me to go with you?’ Deacon asked.
‘No, but thanks. Trip’s meeting me here in a few. I’ll let you know how it goes.’
Cincinnati, Ohio,
Saturday 19 December, 8.50 P.M.
‘Meredith!’ Kendra called from the front door. ‘I found something of yours.’
Meredith and Diesel hurried from the kitchen to the living room, where Kendra and her grandfather stood glaring at one another. Kendra carried several take-out bags in her hands. Her grandfather was wearing his heavy coat and boots.
‘Papa?’ Meredith asked tentatively. ‘I thought you were taking a nap.’
‘Slippery dog,’ Diesel drawled with amused respect. ‘You snuck out the back.’
‘Which was far too easy to do,’ Clarke said. ‘You have a blind spot along the back of your house, Merry. Anyone can get in the basement door.’
Kendra’s eyebrows shot up her forehead. ‘He really is your grandfather?’
‘Yes, of course. Who did you think he was?’
‘Some asshole trying to hurt you. I caught him lurking out back.’
Clarke looked at Kendra with suspicion. ‘She says she’s a cop.’
‘She is,’ Meredith said.
‘Told you,’ Kendra muttered to Clarke.
‘Well, how was I supposed to know she was telling the truth?’ Clarke said, his tone sulky. ‘She also said she was Wendi’s sister!’
‘She is,’ Meredith said again, then popped a light smack on Diesel’s arm because he was snickering. ‘Not funny.’
‘Totally funny.’ Diesel laughed and Meredith found herself smiling because it was a little funny. Wendi was tiny and vampirishly pale. Kendra was nearly six feet tall in her stocking feet, with ebony skin.
‘They were foster sisters,’ Meredith told her grandfather. ‘They were adopted by the same lovely lady.’ Who continued to take foster kids, giving them the best of homes.
Diesel shook his head. ‘She has to be one hell of a lady to put up with you two.’ He pretended to be afraid of Kendra’s scowl. ‘Hell, Kenny, you know it’s true.’
‘It’s fair,’ Kendra allowed, then nudged Clarke into the house. ‘Freezing my ass off here. And could someone take these bags? My fingers are frozen too. Don’t want my trigger finger to crack off.’
‘Gross,’ Meredith said, taking the bags and peeking inside. ‘Yum. My favorites.’ Skyline chili and Graeter’s ice cream. ‘Thanks, Kenny.’
‘There should be enough cheese coneys for six or seven people,’ Kendra said. ‘So enough for the two of us and these two bruisers.’ She stomped the snow off her boots on Meredith’s welcome mat, then kicked them off and went into the living room. ‘Glad I got the Graeter’s. It was the only thing that convinced Gramps here that I really knew you.’
‘Only a crazy person would buy ice cream in this weather,’ Clarke declared, still a little sulky.
‘Only a crazy person would go for a walk in this weather,’ Kendra countered.
Pausing midway to the kitchen, Meredith looked over her shoulder. ‘Why were you outside, Papa?’
Clarke huffed. ‘I was checking the security around your house. It sucks ass, Merry. Luckily, you have two unmarked cars watching over you.’
Meredith turned, fully facing them. ‘I do? Kendra, did you know about this?’
Kendra nodded. ‘One car has a pair of CPD detectives. The other’s got two Feds. I guess Isenberg and Zimmerman are sharing resources. Now that I know there’s a blind spot in the back, I’ll ask one of the cars to sit on the next street over in case your shooter tries to sneak in through the basement. Kimble set it up. Didn’t he tell you?’
‘No. He didn’t.’ She’d have to add it to the list of things he needed to explain. ‘Should we at least offer the officers some hot coffee? They have to be freezing out there.’
‘I offered already,’ Clarke said. ‘They have a thermos, but might take a refill later.’
Kendra stared at him. ‘You talked to them? Really? They’re unmarked for a reason.’
‘Which I did not know because they were unmarked,’ Clarke said, giving her a warning glare. ‘I see two strange cars on this street, each with two guys, I’m gonna check it out. They could have been waiting for Meredith to come outside so that they could finish what they started today.’
Kendra didn’t back down. ‘If they had been, they would have dropped you where you stood. Whoever did this has demonstrated they have no regard for the lives of innocent bystanders.’
Meredith sucked in a pained breath, her vision going temporarily gray as the memory of the young man’s exploding head filled her mind. ‘Papa,’ she whispered.
Her face must have shown her horror because Clarke sighed and crossed the room to pull her into a hug. ‘I’m fine, Merry. It was fine.’
‘But it might not have been. You can’t take chances like that. Please. I can’t . . . I saw that boy die today. I can’t . . . You have to be more careful.’
‘All right.’ He patted her back. ‘I won’t take any more chances. I’m sorry, honey.’
She nodded, her cheek pressed into his chest. ‘Okay. Thank you.’
‘You’re welcome. Anyway, I wasn’t even the first person to talk to the cops outside. Cosmo got there first. He gave them the thermos of coffee.’
‘Who is Cosmo?’ Kendra asked.
Steadier now, Meredith stepped out of her grandfather’s embrace. ‘He lives in the blue house across the street. He’s the neighborhood watch guy. He and Papa go way back.’
‘Our kids used to play together.’ Sadness crossed Clarke’s face. ‘His daughter died recently. Now they’re both gone, both our kids. You’re not supposed to outlive your kids.’
Quiet melancholy filled the room. ‘I’m sorry, Papa,’ Meredith murmured. ‘Was that why you took a walk? To visit with Cosmo?’
‘Partly. He’s not getting around as well as he used to.’ Again the small smile, this time accompanied with pride. ‘He said you make sure his refrigerator stays full and his garbage makes it to the end of the curb every week.’
Meredith shrugged uncomfortably. ‘He’s alone. It’s no trouble.’
‘It’s still kind,’ Diesel said gruffly and Meredith smiled up at him.
‘I stock fridges, you coach pee wee soccer. Kenny helps at Mariposa. We do what we can.’
Diesel blushed. He was such a charmer. Meredith didn’t know why Dani hadn’t snatched him right up.
The mood needed lightening, and Kendra seemed to sense it first. ‘I am starving,’ she announced. ‘I skipped lunch and had to smell the food all the way over here. Let’s eat before the chili gets cold and the ice cream gets hot.’
‘We can eat in the dining room,’ Meredith said. ‘Diesel’s using the kitchen table.’
Diesel gestured toward his computer. ‘I was kind of in the middle of something. You mind if I take my food and work some more?’
Meredith studied his face. His jaw was set and she could see his mind was already back to what he’d been doing when Kendra had opened the front door. ‘Anything good?’
‘Maybe. I’ll let you know as soon as I do.’