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It wasn’t fair, but that had become the central theme of her life: Not Fair. Should Have Been Different. If Only.
She sat on the edge of the bed, the springs squeaking as if she weighed a ton. At least she had enough money to get to her interviews. It would have to do.
It took all her will, but she got up, put her coat in the measly closet and figured she’d make herself some tea, then start work on the ledgers. The tea, one of the essentials in her life along with her good soap, daily showers and a warm bed, would be made with her little heat coil. She’d picked it up in a travel shop four years ago and had taken it everywhere. She could survive on packaged soup, instant oatmeal and tea if she had to. Just add water.
From the closet floor, she got her box with the ledger pages and her laptop and put it next to the small table. But before she could get her cup, there was a knock on the door. Panic made her freeze and foolishness made her hope it was a mistake.
“Kate Rydell? It’s the police. Open up, please.”
Shit, shit, shit. Should she keep quiet and hope the cops hadn’t seen her come in? How in hell had they found her? Ellen. It had to be Ellen. Kate cursed again, knowing her friend hadn’t purposely betrayed her.
“I know you’re in there. Open the door.”
Kate shoved the box under the table, then went to obey. “Please hold your badge up to the peephole.”
He did, and she memorized the number, knowing all the while Omicron wouldn’t have a bit of trouble getting a fake badge. Or hiring a cop to do their dirty work.
“Open the door, Kate.”
She bristled at the use of her first name, but she managed not to shake as she turned the deadbolt. “Yes?”
The man on the other side looked as if he’d had a rough day. He was taller than her by a good five inches, wearing a brown overcoat. His tie was loosened and he hadn’t shaved in a day or two. His dark hair was messy, as if he’d run his hands through it and not looked in a mirror after. It was his eyes that really gave him away. They were oddly blue and filled with anger. “I’m here about the murder at the hotel.”
She thought about telling him he had the wrong person but dismissed that approach immediately. “What do you want to know?”
He looked past her into her room. “May I come in?”
“I don’t suppose it would do me any good to say no.”
“We could always do this at the precinct.”
She opened the door. Only after he was inside did it occur to her that he was alone. Her eyes narrowed. “Where’s your partner?”
“He’ll be here shortly. I’m Detective Yarrow, and I know you witnessed Tim Purchase’s murder.”
“And how do you know that?”
“Your cart was there. Open. And you hadn’t even finished restocking the refrigerator. I also have you on tape ten minutes after the murder, leaving the hotel.”
“I was there, but I didn’t see anything.”
“You were behind the bar.”
“That’s right. Where I hid.”
“You could see everything from there. In the mirror.”
“I suppose that would be true,” she said, “if I’d been looking up. I wasn’t.”
“You mean to tell me you didn’t see any part of it? Not even when he opened the door?”
“That’s what I’m telling you.”
“But you heard it.”
“Gunfire. That’s all. I’m sorry. I wish I could help, but I can’t.”
The anger in his eyes had turned to fury. His neck had darkened and his hands were fisted by his side. She’d faced a lot of angry men in her life and she knew this cop would stop at nothing. “You’re lying.”
“Excuse me?”
He stepped closer to her. “If you didn’t see anything, why did you run?”
“Gunshots. A dead guy.”
“A dead guy? Do you have any idea who it was lying up there in a pool of blood?”
“No.”
He turned briefly, running his hand through that tangle of hair. When he turned back, he seemed the tiniest bit calmer. “He was important. He was also a friend.”
“As I said, I wish I could help. But I can’t.”
“I can protect you.”
She laughed. She shouldn’t have, because he was so very serious. And because it told him more than she wanted him to know.
He almost smiled at her slip. “Did you recognize the gang? Were they wearing colors? Tattoos?”
“I didn’t see them.”
“Don’t. I just want to know—”
“Detective Yarrow, I appreciate that you’re trying to find whoever killed this man, but you’d be wise to look elsewhere. I can’t help you.”
“You can. And you will.”
She closed her eyes for a moment, and when she opened them again, he was studying her so closely she had to step away. “You’re mistaken.”
“No, I’m not. Listen to me, Kate. I need these punks. I need them like you wouldn’t believe. I’m willing to do whatever it takes to get them.” He took a step closer, bridging the gap. “Whatever it takes.”
“I applaud your determination,” she said, standing her ground. “You’re asking for something I can’t give.”
He didn’t say anything as he continued to stare. Those strange blue eyes looked deeply, and she touched her throat. Then he broke away and walked over to the small table.
The hairs on the back of her neck stood up. She was terrified that he’d look in the box underneath, that somehow he would understand what she had in her possession. The toe of his brown shoe touched the side of the box, and he turned his head so he could see.
Kate wanted to stop him, but she knew if she responded at all it would just increase his curiosity. The best thing she could do was act nonchalant. As if his questions weren’t making her feel guilty as hell, as if her very life and the lives of her friends didn’t depend on her lies.
If only her heart wouldn’t beat so hard. She felt sure he could hear it, that if he stayed one more minute he’d uncover the truth.
“Listen up, Kate,” he said, his voice very low, a whisper that made everything worse. “I know you saw who killed my friend. I know you ran because you think the gangs will come after you if you testify. Well, here’s the deal. I don’t care. I don’t like being lied to, and believe me, I’ve been lied to by the best, so you don’t fool me for a second.”
“I think you should leave,” she said, but this time her bravado slipped and her voice quavered like a child’s.
“I’m not leaving until I get what I want. I’m going to be on you twenty-four-seven. And to make things even more interesting, I’m going to let the press know what I’m doing. You hear me? If you think you’re afraid now, just wait.”
Vince watched her face grow pale, her eyes widen with his threats. She’d seen everything, all right. He’d wager his life on it. And he wasn’t about to let her walk away without testifying.
“That’s illegal. It’s harassment.”
“Sue me.”
“Don’t you even care that you’ll be wasting your time on me when you could be looking for the killers?”
“We’ve got a whole department of cops doing just that. My only assignment is you.”
She turned from him and walked over to the bed, but she didn’t sit. He knew she was trying to figure a way out of this, to make him leave. Not that she had a prayer.
He relaxed, debated taking off his coat, but didn’t. Instead he studied her.
The cameras in the garage hadn’t done her justice. She was a beautiful woman, classy, strong. Her long, dark hair was shiny and as smooth as her skin. She wore no makeup, at least as far as he could tell, but it didn’t make a difference. With those dark eyes, that long, lean body, she could have had any man in the blink of an eye. So why didn’t she? She carried herself like someone with money. It didn’t track that she was working for room service.
Clearly, she was hiding. From what, he didn’t know, but he’d find out.
She moved again, lifting her head, straightening her shoulders. “I would help you if I could, but I can’t. If you let the press know about me, I’ll be as dead as your friend, whether the killers think I can ID them or not.”
He held himself still, not wanting to spook her. “Why?”
“Someone’s after me. A stalker.”
“Let me help.”
She frowned. “Yeah, right. And your success rate in finding and convicting stalkers is what?”
“Pretty damn good.”
“Now, who’s lying?”
“Just tell me what I want to know, then you can play hide-and-seek all you want.”
She sighed and sat on the edge of the bed. “I have nothing to tell you. Nothing, you hear me? I hid. I heard gunshots. Running. By the time I looked up, your friend was dead and I was alone with him in the room. Okay? There isn’t anything more.”
Vince shook his head. “Sorry. It was a good try, but I’m not buying it.”
“Buying what?”
“You know more than you’re telling me.”
“What are you talking about?”
“You know how long I’ve been doing this? You know how many people have lied to me?”
“This time you’re wrong.”
He looked at her. Through her. “I’ve been wrong about a lot of things. But not this. Seriously. I have nothing else on the docket. Just you, until you tell me the truth.”
“If you enjoy wasting your time, be my guest. But you can’t do it sitting in my room.” She walked over to the door and opened it, her lips tight, her posture more closed off now than when he’d first arrived.
“You bet. I’ll leave, but I won’t be far. You can count on that. No matter where you go, there I’ll be.”
She said nothing. She didn’t even watch him as he passed her. Her gaze was somewhere else, perhaps with the stalker she said was after her, perhaps on the vision of Tim on the bloody carpet. It didn’t matter. Not a bit.
The second he’d cleared the door, it was closed, not slammed, behind him. He got out his cell phone as he headed for his car.
Surveillance wasn’t terribly effective without sufficient manpower. He wasn’t fool enough to believe he could cover her without getting sloppy. He dialed Jeff.
“Detective Stoller.”
“Hey, I’ve got an interesting challenge for you, buddy.”
Jeff’s groan was all too familiar. Vince didn’t pay any attention to it as he detailed what he needed Jeff to do. Kate Rydell was now a material witness. Since Vince was on suspension, Jeff would have to do the paperwork and get the manpower.
In the meantime, Vince would get comfortable in his car. He wasn’t sure when Kate would make her move, only that she would attempt to flee.
He was also going to look into her background. He’d soon find out if there was any truth to the stalker business or if Ms. Rydell was hiding something even worse.
ALTHOUGH THEY ADVERTISED Never Empty, Never Closed, there were few customers at The Pantry coffee shop. Nate scanned the tables, his gaze finally settling on an occupied booth near the far window. He walked across the diner and sat down across from his old friend. “Seth,” he said. “Good to see you.”
“Good to see you, brother.” The two men ordered coffee when the elderly waitress asked if they wanted some and spread the menus in front of them.
“I almost didn’t recognize you with the glasses,” Nate said.
Seth shrugged off his stained leather jacket, revealing a plain black T-shirt. “Good. Let’s hope no one else does.”
Nate smiled wryly. They seldom saw each other, wisely keeping their distance in case one of them went down. “You have everything, I trust.”
Seth nodded, his gaze on the menu. “I have about eight bucks. What about you?”
“Enough for a decent breakfast. Let’s splurge.” There’d been a time when Nate had never had to think about money. He’d always had plenty to spend on women and booze. Not from his work in Delta Force, but from a little locking device he’d come up with just after college. It didn’t look like much, but he’d sold the Army on the usefulness of the lock on weaponry in the field, and they’d bought the patent. The money was to be his nest egg, his safety net in case he got hurt. But it was all gone now. He’d spent a bloody fortune on Harper’s basement trauma room and Tam’s lab and equipment.
The waitress came back and they both ordered the bacon and egg breakfast. When they were alone again, Seth pulled an envelope from the inside pocket of his jacket and wordlessly handed it across the table.
Nate glanced around, then flipped through the contents. Driver’s license, Social Security card, birth certificate. He held the driver’s license where the streetlight shone on it. “Damn. Your guy does fine work.”
“Computer nerd at Cal Tech. He did these, too.” He put two photo IDs on the table.
Nate stuffed Kate’s documents back in the envelope and picked up one of the identification cards. “Midtown Electric,” he read. “Damn. Where’d you get this picture?”