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“That’s not nothing, Cody. Did you thank her for taking you?”
“Yeah.”
“Good job.” She planted a kiss on his dark head and smelled his hair.
“Shall we go to see your daddy today, before you leave?”
“No. It smells funny.”
“We make exceptions for people we care about, son. Your daddy needs to see you.”
“Okay.” Cody fiddled with the remote. “He lets me push him’s buttons.”
She patted his leg. “That’s better. I’ll dry my hair and we’ll go.” She stood up and felt the weight of guilt turn solid in her stomach, as it did every time they went to see Jake Talbot, Cody’s father, a twenty-eight-year-old man strapped in a wheelchair for the rest of his life. A man she’d put there with a dare.
MICK SAT NEXT TO Sergeant Schneider’s desk with the Romaro file in his hand. “His address of record is Taft Street?”
“Yeah, real dump. I talked to the landlord. Said the guy was four months behind on his rent, claimed he hadn’t see him for almost a month. He opened the apartment, and damn if the refrigerator hadn’t seen the guy in a month, either. The power had been shut off and the place was a stinking mess.”
“Real winner, huh?”
“Yeah.”
Mick studied the autopsy photos. “So any idea who diced the guy?”
Schneider shoved a toothpick between the gap in his front teeth and rocked back in his chair. “Always looked like a revenge kill to me. Up close and personal, but I could never connect the dots. The crime lab didn’t find any trace evidence on the body. He was probably killed somewhere else and dumped in the river. No way to know where he went in. The killer didn’t try to weight the body, guess he knew Mississippi mud does a scrub job.”
“Did you talk to Romaro’s family?”
“Nobody to talk to. Couldn’t find a thread to unravel. It was almost like the guy appeared out of nowhere.”
“An alias?”
“That’s my guess, but he had ID on him.”
“Prints?”
“We ran him through AFIS. No record.”
Mick laid the file on the edge of Schneider’s desk, frustrated by the lack of information. The address Kate had given him for the house where she’d repoed the car was nowhere near the victim’s apartment.
“I’ve got a list of deadbeats.” He pulled Kate’s list out of his notepad. “My witness repoed Romaro’s car along with the rest of these guys. Let’s run them and see what shakes.”
“No problem.” Ben took the list, eyeing it carefully. “What do ya know.”
“You got something?”
“Orlando Durant. I can’t believe he bought a car. Stealing them is more his style. I got a fax a couple of days ago from the Michigan State Police. They caught him doing one hundred forty up I-75, headed for Canada. He was sitting behind the wheel of a brand new Maserati registered in his name. The kicker is there was a suitcase full of money in the trunk. They’re holding him for reckless driving and eluding an officer. We’ve got first claim on him, but he’s fighting extradition.”
“Let me guess. Grand theft auto.”
“Bingo, but there’s more. He’s claiming someone in Louisiana wants him dead.”
“Running scared?”
“Looks that way.”
“How soon are we going to get him back?”
“Couple of weeks, if finance coughs up the money.”
“I’d like to interrogate him, maybe he knows something about Otis Whittley.”
“I’ll let you know as soon he arrives.”
“Thanks, Ben.” Did Kate know Orlando Durant? “I owe you one.” He stood up and moved for the door.
“Anytime. Hey, I had a visitor this morning.”
“Oh yeah, who?” Mick pulled up short and turned around.
“Byer stopped by for his annual how-the-heck-are-you chat.”
Mick thought of the ex-partner who’d saved his butt more than a couple of times, but they’d fallen out of touch over the years. “How’s he doing? Staying out of trouble?”
“You know Bret. He’s top dog over at customs. Sitting on big money and bigger benefits. Something to do with manifest approvals.”
“I heard that, but then he always pushed to get ahead. Not like you and me, happy to be at the bottom of the food chain.”
Schneider smiled. “I wish the sharks at the bottom of the food chain would chew my butt off before next week. I’ve got to pass my physical.”
“Good luck.” Mick left the homicide division with a smile on his face. He hadn’t thought of Bret in at least a year. They’d grown up in the same town in Florida, attended the same college and played on the same football team. They’d become fast friends and eventually went through the academy together.
His cell phone rang. “Jacoby.”
“Officer?”
He recognized Kate’s voice, laced with panic. “Kate. What’s wrong?”
“You better come out to the storage unit. There’s been some trouble.”
“I’ll be right there.”
KATE STOOD AT the storage-lot gate, her face the color of a sun-bleached sheet. She put in the gate code and climbed in beside him.
“Did you touch anything?” The question came out like an accusation and he instantly regretted it.
“I’m not an idiot.”
“I’m sorry.” He touched her hand where it lay on the seat and felt her warmth invade the dark places in his heart. He put his hand back on the steering wheel where it belonged and made the turn down the row of units.
The door to the large unit at the end was open, the butt of the Beamer visible. “It’s still there.”
“You should see the inside.”
He braked and popped the gearshift into park. “I’ll get the lab boys over here and deal with the fallout later.”
“Fallout?”
“This car should be in impound. I should have called it in last night.” He looked at her, caught by the way her mahogany-colored hair framed her face and curled up on the ends. She was a beautiful woman. A flash of desire pulsed through him and settled in his gut.
“I wish it was there, too. I’m probably going to lose my job over this.”
“Don’t panic. Let’s have a look.” He got out of the car and moved into the storage unit. Except for the bullet holes in the trunk and the shattered rear window, the car was pristine. He bent closer and looked into the side window. The seats had been slashed and lay open. Stuffing littered the floorboards, white and billowy like a collection of clouds.
“Who else knew about this place.”
“Just us. For security, I never told anyone where I took the cars. Not even my boss.”
Mick straightened and moved around to the front of the vehicle. Caution slid through his veins and he stopped, but before he could warn her to stay back, she was beside him. He heard her sharp intake of breath.
DIE SLOW KATE. The words were painted across the windshield in dark red.
“Go outside.” He leaned close to the glass and drew in a smell of the substance on the windshield. The iron-rich odor turned his stomach.
Blood.
He backed away and pulled the handheld radio off his belt. “Dispatch, officer 557. I need a lab team at A-1 Storage in Paradise, unit B-3.” He was guessing, but whoever’s blood had been used to paint the message was more than likely dead. His hunch was it belonged to Otis Whittley.
Kate stood outside the unit, her face in her hands. He moved toward her and felt an overwhelming need to protect her from the ugliness inside and the danger outside. “I’m sorry you had to see that.” He stepped next to her. “It’s probably just an idle threat made by some punk kid.”
“Is it…blood?”
“Yeah.”
She leaned into him, taking him by surprise. Like a bomb hooked to a physical timer, desire exploded inside him and he craved her like air. He put his arms around her and pulled her against his chest, satisfied when she relaxed into him. “The Beamer will go to evidence, then to impound. If the lab confirms it’s blood on the windshield, you’re looking at posttrial before the car is released.” The return of the BMW wasn’t his worry. The threat bothered him.
“Do you think we were followed last night?”
“That would be my guess.”
“Maybe not.” She looked up at him and he saw a flicker of fear in her eyes.
“What do you mean?” He released her and stared into her upturned face, watched her swallow, and look away.
“I came over here this afternoon.”
“What!”
“I wanted to make sure you hadn’t had the car hauled away. It’s my livelihood. After you left this morning, there was a black car parked across the street. I couldn’t see the driver or get a plate number, but after I went inside, it took off. I thought I was just being paranoid. I took Cody to see his dad, and we made a swing by here.”
“We have no idea what’s going on.” Mick grasped her upper arms. He had to infuse some caution into her.
“It didn’t seem important.”
“Everything is important. The threat on the window doubles it.”
“Look, Mick, I can take care of myself.”
“Where is Cody?”
“He’s with my friend and her family. They took him to Disney World for a week.”
He relaxed his grip on her and dropped his arms to his sides. “Do you have somewhere else you can go besides home?”
“I suppose.”
“Go. Chances are whoever did this watched your house this morning and followed you here. It’s not safe. Someone means business.”
“I can’t leave.”
“Look at me.”
She complied, staring into his eyes, making his heart race as he searched her face, hoping she didn’t fight him. “This isn’t a polite request. It’s an order. If I didn’t think you were in danger I wouldn’t ask you to leave. It’s better to use caution.” He touched her arm and a zap of heat infiltrated his system.
“How long?”
“As long as it takes to get a handle on this case.”
“I have to put my life on hold while you look for a handle?”
“It’s a lot more interesting to hunt Robears than to try and reason with them.” He wanted the words to stick, to raise her awareness level to the danger he could feel in the air, but she gave him a sly smile instead.
“You’ll have to hunt me if you drag this out.”
“Understood.” She smoothed a stray strand of hair and tucked it behind her ear. He didn’t doubt she would run if given the chance.
KATE GLANCED in her rearview mirror at Mick’s headlights. It was comforting to know he was behind her. A foreboding she couldn’t shake had taken hold of her at the storage unit and its grip was unrelenting. Did someone have it in for her? Mick certainly seemed to believe it. Should she believe it, too?
Flipping her blinker, she pulled down the quiet street lined with little square houses. It wasn’t the best neighborhood, but it was one she could afford. She parked in the driveway, turned off the engine and climbed out of the Bronco.
Anxiety bubbled inside of her. The early twilight air held a trace of humidity, but it wasn’t cold. Somewhere nearby a dog barked, probably at the end of a chain or shut up behind a backyard fence. The smell of a barbecue hung in the air. All was well. There was no visible cause for her feelings.
Mick pulled into the driveway and got out of his car. She studied him in the glow of the porch light as he moved toward her, like the hero in a vivid dream. Maybe he was the source of her unsettled emotions.
“If you grab a bag, I’ll take you to your friend’s house. I want to make sure you’re not followed.”
“You don’t have to coddle me.” She took the steps slowly. “I’m not helpless.”
