The Man Behind The Badge

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The caller ID display was reading Caller Unknown, which made her hesitate about picking up. And as soon as she did, she wished she hadn’t.

“This is Evan Reese,” he announced.

A chill ran through her as she said, “Yes?”

“Why did you tell that cop I scared you?”

She thought rapidly, trying to remember precisely what Travis had said he’d told Reese. Something about his call making her “nervous.” That was it.

“I didn’t say you scared me,” she said. “I only mentioned that you made me a little nervous.”

“Sure you did.”

She swallowed uneasily, suddenly suspecting that what Travis had said to her wasn’t quite what he’d said to Reese.

“I don’t really recall the exact words I used. But maybe I said you made me kind of anxious. I’m not used to strangers phoning and—”

“Kind of anxious? If that’s all you told him, then the guy’s a wacko. Listen, Celeste, I didn’t like the way he talked to me this morning. And I didn’t like the way he went racing to your place afterward, either.”

He’d followed Travis here! The cordless still to her ear, she pushed back her chair.

“So you tell him that, huh? Tell him I’m wise to his tricks and I don’t like them.”

“Yes, I will,” she said, hurrying out of her office.

“Don’t forget. And tell him he hasn’t heard the last about his visit here. Tell him I’ve got friends in high places, and he’s going to be very sorry he tried to lean on me.”

“I’ll tell him.”

As she reached the living room window, Snoops scurried down off the window seat and ran to hide, clearly sensing her fear.

Cautiously, she peeked out. No one was standing on the street, but the man could be hiding just out of sight. Or maybe he’d even gotten into her building. That thought sent a fresh ripple of anxiety through her.

“Are you still there?” Reese demanded.

“Yes,” she said. “But I’m afraid I have to go now. Someone’s at my door.”

Without another word, she broke the connection. Then she took a few deep breaths, trying to stop her heart from pounding. After it had slowed to somewhere near normal, she pressed in Travis’s number.

* * *

CELESTE SOUNDED as if she was terrified but was doing her utmost to hide it, and each word she spoke made Travis feel more like killing Evan Reese.

“Want me to head back to your place?” he asked when she’d finished.

She hesitated, the silence lasting long enough to tell him she did.

Just as he was about to make a U-turn, she said, “No. Thanks, but I’ll be fine once I calm down. And I’m sure holding my hand isn’t in your job description.”

That was true, although the thought of doing so was far more appealing than anything that was in his job description.

“But what about you?” she asked. “He really seemed intent on causing trouble.”

“Let him try. The C.O.’s used to complaints. But, look, is your phone a cordless?”

“Yes.”

“Then take it with you into the hall. Make sure he isn’t there. Check the staircase, too. I’ll hold on.”

“All right.”

While he listened to the faint clicks of her locks turning he had a horrible vision—her discovering that Reese was standing just beyond where she’d have been able to see him through the peephole.

“All clear?” he demanded at the sound of the door opening.

“Seems to be.”

The vision took so long to fade that he almost told her to forget about the staircase. Then he stopped himself. If Reese had gotten into the building, better she discovered it now than later.

His chest strangely tight, he imagined her walking down the hall, its carpet swallowing the whispers of her footsteps. She should be about reaching the stairs and—

The stairway door creaked faintly.

“I still don’t see him,” she said.

“Good.” Of course, that didn’t guarantee he wasn’t there someplace. However, her cordless couldn’t have much more range, so going further wouldn’t be safe.

“Should I head back to my apartment?”

“Yeah. He’s probably home by now. But if anything else worries you, just call.”

“Thanks,” she murmured.

He began picturing her again—with her brilliant blue and eyes and pretty smile. It was enough to make him reconsider the idea of going straight back over there.

“I’m just locking my door,” she said after a few moments.

“Okay. I’ll check in with you later.”

“Thanks, but you don’t have to.”

“Following up is in my job description.”

“Ah. Well...I wouldn’t want you not doing your job.”

Her tone made him suspect she was smiling, although that might only be wishful thinking.

“Talk to you later, then. Bye.”

“Bye, Travis.”

After pressing the End button he began thinking about paying Evan Reese yet another visit. However, that wouldn’t be a wise move. He was too mad to face the guy.

Besides, leaning on him obviously hadn’t helped matters. Instead of scaring him off Celeste, it had only made things worse.

He was still mentally kicking himself about that when he reached Manhattan North Homicide. And it didn’t improve his mood to find that Hank wasn’t there, ready and willing to discuss the situation.

According to the other detectives in the squad room, he’d left shortly after Travis had headed for Reese’s place.

After fishing out his phone, he was about to press the speed dial for Hank’s number when Len Espizito, C.O. of Homicide, materialized.

“My office, Quinn,” he said, turning on his heel.

Travis stuck the phone back in his pocket and followed the lieutenant, wondering what was up.

It didn’t even occur to him that the problem was Evan Reese until Espizito shoved his door shut behind them and said, “Okay, let’s hear your version of the visit you paid this Reese character.”

“You mean the one yesterday or the one this morning?” he asked, buying himself a few seconds to think.

“Which do you figure I mean?” Espizito snapped. “The guy phoned me ten minutes ago, screaming police brutality.”

“What? I didn’t touch him.”

“Maybe not, but did you threaten to?”

“I told him to leave Parker’s sister alone. That was basically it.”

“Then you headed directly to the sister’s apartment? On your own?”

He shrugged, glad he’d already known that Reese had followed him. Otherwise, Espizito would have caught him even more off guard.

“Did you?” he demanded.

“Yes.”

“And Reese says you were at her place last night. And that since it was after he called her it had to have been late.”

Crap. Instead of implying he’d merely talked to Celeste on the phone, he’d specifically told Reese he’d gone there. As a way of emphasizing how upset she’d been. But it looked as if he shouldn’t have gotten specific.

“Is that true? Were you there alone with her last night, too?”

“Lieutenant, the guy had called and scared her. Hank was already on his way home, and I just wanted to—”

“Don’t give me any crap, Quinn. Reese said it’s obvious you like her. Do you?”

Travis mentally kicked himself once more. His partner realizing he found Celeste attractive was one thing. But it must be written all over him for a stranger to have picked up on it.

“Do you?” Espizito repeated.

“No. She seems like a nice woman, that’s all.”

“Ballantyne was in earlier. And I asked him about the Parker case. According to your own partner, this nice woman—who, by the way, he mentioned is a looker—could be our killer.”