Gone Too Far (Devlin & Falco), page 22
Kerri exhaled a big breath. “Now I know how Diana felt last year when she couldn’t help Amelia.”
“This is not going to be like that,” Falco assured her.
“You can’t be certain,” Kerri argued. “Look at what Sarah Talley did just today.”
“Tori is stronger than Sarah,” Falco argued.
“I hope so.” In addition to feeling helpless, Kerri felt guilty too. “I should be helping you with the Kurtz investigation. The case is too much for one person.”
“I’ve got this. You keep your focus on Tori and this Cortez girl. There’s something more than adolescent bickering in all this. To tell you the truth, it sounds a whole hell of a lot like plain old murder.”
Her partner was right, and that was the scariest part.
26
10:00 p.m.
Mulligan’s Pub
Sixth Avenue, Twenty-Seventh Street
Birmingham
Mason watched the man enter the pub and survey the place. Darius Washburn spotted Mason and snaked his way through the jam-packed tables and around booths. The place was crowded for a Thursday night.
No surprise. Pauley, the son of a bitch, had always known an Irish pub would do well on this corner.
Washburn pulled out the chair across from Mason and sat. Even in the dim lighting Mason noted the sprinkle of gray at the man’s temples. The first time he’d hired Darius for a job, he’d been twenty-five and fresh out of prison. The man was good, very good. Possibly the best at getting in and out of places and, more importantly, finding things. But there were drawbacks with Darius.
Now that he’d cultivated such a respected reputation for himself, he honored the highest bidder.
Darius ordered his preferred ale and turned his attention to Mason. “You have a job for me?”
The only time they ever met in person was when Mason gave him instructions on a new assignment. Mason didn’t leave trails to be followed. No texts, no calls, no emails. Nothing. Face-to-face. That was the way he conducted this sort of business. It was best for all concerned.
Meeting here, with his daughter just upstairs, was a sort of irony only he understood for now. Perhaps Darius would come to see it later.
“Not at this time,” Mason said. “I’m going to ask you a few questions, and you’re going to answer.”
Darius smirked but said nothing because the waitress had appeared with his beer.
When she had flitted away, the younger man said, “You know I don’t answer questions about my other assignments, so don’t ask. I wouldn’t want our relationship to become awkward like that.”
Mason felt himself smile. Oh yes, the cocky little shit had decided the price of his stock had risen significantly.
“Darius.” Mason shook his head. “Your memory must be failing you. However valuable your services are to others, however much they choose to pay you for those services, I”—Mason patted his chest for emphasis—“own you. Forgetting that fact could be very awkward for you.”
Fury tightened the younger man’s face. “What do you want, Cross?”
Much better. It was infinitely useful to have information on anyone you might one day need. Mason had learned this lesson particularly well from someone far more ruthless than him. Take the fact that Darius Washburn had murdered his own father after his release from prison. Not that anyone could prove it or that Mason blamed him. The old bastard had set up his son to take the fall for his own bad deed. Never underestimate how far your offspring might go for revenge if you screwed them over badly enough.
Those words were inscribed across Mason’s brain. His own offspring would likely one day have her revenge. Maybe sooner than he had anticipated.
“Who hired you to hit Naomi Taylor’s home?” Mason asked. “Or more specifically, who hired you to stage such a blunder. We both know that job would have been a piece of cake. Apparently, someone wanted to send a message, and I want to know who that someone was. Particularly since the message appears to have been intended to prompt trouble for me.”
And it had worked. Sadie had immediately put the blame on him.
“What’s it to you?”
“Shall I rephrase the question?”
Darius leaned forward. “Are you trying to get me killed? You’ve never asked me to do this before. Why now?”
“Was it her?” Mason demanded.
Darius blew out a breath. “It was Lana Walsh.”
He shouldn’t be surprised, and yet somehow he was. Mason moved on to the next question. “What else did she hire you to do?”
“Nothing,” Darius snapped. He chugged down his beer, wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. “She wanted something her son had hidden in the house.”
“How did she know he’d hidden something?”
Darius shrugged. “Who knows? I wasn’t hired to know the why; I was only hired to do the job.”
“Yet you ensured the job was not done and that even the police discovered what had been done.”
Darius ignored the accusation. “I did what I was paid to do.”
Obviously, Lana Walsh had been outbid. How curious.
“I’d like you to stay away from anything or anyone related to Asher Walsh,” Mason warned. “This one is mine.”
Darius dared to smile. “Sure.” He pushed back his chair and stood. “Don’t call me again unless you have a paying offer.” Before going, he leaned down and said, “I wasn’t going to mention just how loyal I’ve been to you, but since we’re here, like this, why not? Old friend, I turned down a premium offer to take out your daughter. Since she’s still breathing, I’d say that makes us even now.”
Mason didn’t bother rushing after him to ask who had hired him to hurt Sadie.
He already knew the answer with the kind of certainty only a father could understand.
27
Session Four
Three Years Ago
Dr. Holden waits for her to speak. The sound of fabric rustling suggests he crossed or uncrossed his legs. Or perhaps Sadie shifted her position.
Her silence goes on and on. Finally, he asks, “Do you still want to participate, Sadie? I’ve told you on several occasions that these sessions are optional—totally voluntary.”
“I need the truth.”
Her voice sounds hollow, as if she would rather be anywhere but here. Except she clearly understands she has no choice but to try.
“Very well, let’s get started. It’s January now. Eduardo’s family seem to have embraced you,” Holden prods.
“Things changed at Christmas. I missed my period in November, maybe even in October. I don’t remember. Didn’t matter at the time. It happened fairly often. I didn’t really think anything of it until December passed and there was still no period. I asked one of the household staff members—Valerie—to pick up a couple of pregnancy tests in town. She promised not to tell, and I trusted her. I don’t trust easily.”
“Meaning you felt entirely comfortable sharing this potential bombshell with her.”
“Yes.”
“Did she bring what you needed?”
“She did, and both tests showed positive. I was pregnant. Not a good thing, considering my position.”
She says these things with such detachment. Perhaps because of the subtle form of hypnosis. There were times when she grew emotional. But not now. Not about the pregnancy.
“I would think this new development would have bonded you even closer to Eduardo.”
“It did. He asked me to marry him. He was thrilled. The old man didn’t appear to hate the idea, but who could say. He rarely got excited.”
“And the girl? The daughter, Isabella?”
“Eddie didn’t want her to know in the beginning.”
“I see.” Holden hesitates a moment. “What happened to the wedding plans? I’m assuming you did not marry him.”
“Around that same time there was growing unrest in another cartel. There was talk of a war. The tension was mounting. I could feel it thickening with each passing day.”
A long silence follows this explanation. Does she fear what comes next? Who wouldn’t?
“Did something happen in January, Sadie?”
“There was a meeting. I can’t remember the exact day. But, at some point in January, I overheard a telephone conversation between Eddie and his father and a female. The woman was on the phone; she wasn’t there at the compound. The call was on speaker, and the three were arguing. The woman seemed to be winning. It was very strange. Whatever she suggested, the old man agreed. Eddie not so much.”
“Did you know this woman?”
“No. I didn’t know her . . . don’t know her.”
“She was never addressed by her name?”
“No. Carlos referred to her only once or twice by manita.”
“Little sister.”
“Yes.”
“Were you or those in your task force aware Carlos had a sister or someone to whom he referred as sister?”
“No. The existence of a female relative was never proven. To my knowledge, it was decided she was some sort of business partner. An outsider with some other source of power besides blood.”
“Eduardo didn’t refer to her as aunt or by any term of endearment?”
“No. He was very angry during what I heard of the conversation. I can’t remember specifics, but I got the impression he didn’t like her.”
“Was there anything about the conversation that proved particularly important to your assignment?”
“Yes. The decision was made to initiate a strike against the other cartel. I passed this information along to my contact that same day.”
“Why would a strike against a rival cartel be of significance in your operation?”
“It was the DEA’s plan to boost the rival cartel’s means so they would be able to defeat the Osorio family. A surprise attack wouldn’t bode well for that end.”
Holden says nothing else for a while. Eventually, he asks, “Is this common practice for an agency to use a criminal element to help accomplish their goal?”
“Happens all the time.”
“How did this development affect your situation?”
“Passing along this information blew my cover. I was taken into custody by the old man’s security regime.”
“Did Eduardo intervene on your behalf?”
“No. When the commander of the security team told him what I had done, he turned his back and walked out of the room.”
“He said nothing to you or to the commander?”
“‘Make the call.’ That’s all he said.”
“Meaning the decision or an actual call?”
“I don’t know. My memories of that time are less than reliable.”
“You were extremely lucky.”
“I guess that depends on how you define lucky.”
“You lived.”
“Did I?”
28
Friday, April 16
8:30 a.m.
Birmingham Police Department
First Avenue North
The LT wasn’t buying the scenario that Sue Grimes was dead because the BPD had a leak.
Kerri wanted to scream. Right now, this minute, she should be working the Kurtz case with her partner. Falco was handling this high-profile damned case alone. Because Kerri was terrified for her daughter.
Actually, at this point, Kerri was beyond desperate. “You are the only person besides Falco I told about Sue’s story.”
The accusation hung in the thick-with-tension air. Brooks stared at her in a sort of stunned silence.
“Are you accusing me of something, Detective?”
Kerri refused to back down. “No, sir. I’m accusing someone you may have spoken to regarding the situation. Sue Grimes is dead. I can’t believe her murder, less than twenty-four hours after telling me that story, is a coincidence.”
The LT had offered her a seat the moment she’d entered his office, but Kerri hadn’t been able to sit. She stood there now, hands on her hips, waiting for his reaction like a prisoner about to be executed. She felt exactly as alone as a prisoner on death row. Her entire career, this was the one place she had never felt alone or out of place.
Until now.
“You see, that’s the problem, Devlin,” he said, leaning forward to brace his forearms on his desk. “What you told me was a ‘story.’ Hearsay from the librarian at the school where a tragedy occurred. If your friend had proof of what she said, why not go to the police? Why allow this dangerous girl to go to another school, unfazed, and hurt someone else? What kind of person was this friend?”
Fury erupted inside Kerri, but she held it back. Now he was just trying to make her angry. “She was afraid for the other girl. The girl begged her not to tell.”
“The girl that might be missing now?” he tossed back.
“She disappeared shortly after I shared the information.” Kerri held his gaze. “With you.”
Her boss took a breath. “This is what I can tell you, Detective. I shared this information with exactly three people. Sykes and Peterson because they are working the Myers case. I also briefed the chief in a private meeting. Are you prepared to accuse one of those three people of leaking this information?” He held up his hands. “Better yet, which of the three do you believe would have wanted to harm Sue Grimes and this missing child, Violet Redmond?”
No matter that she knew in her gut she was right, his words made Kerri’s face burn with something besides anger. “I am not accusing anyone, sir. What I am suggesting is that someone along this loop may have unknowingly shared the information with someone else who allowed a leak—either accidentally or on purpose.”
Brooks hit the intercom on his desk phone. His assistant responded immediately with a “Yes, sir.”
“Get Sykes and Peterson in my office ASAP.”
Another “Yes, sir” echoed in the room.
The LT gestured to a chair in front of his desk. “Sit, Devlin. We may have to wait a bit.”
Kerri lowered into the nearest chair. He was the one angry now. She refused to regret this confrontation. It had to be done. Today. Now. Should have been done yesterday. “I tried to talk to you yesterday.”
“I’m aware,” he said. “For your information, I had a funeral to attend. Does that excuse my not getting back to you before this morning?”
Now she felt like a total shit—at least on that point. Before she could apologize, he went on, “Should I call the chief and request his presence as well?” His glare warned that he wasn’t entirely joking.
Neither was she. She met his glare without flinching. “I’ll leave that to your discretion, sir.”
He looked away.
A knock on the door had Brooks announcing, “Come in.”
Sykes and Peterson swaggered into the room. “You wanted to see us,” Sykes said.
The two glanced at Kerri and audibly exhaled.
Perfect. Now they were all pissed at her.
“Take a seat, Detectives.”
The two did as they were told, making no attempt to conceal their dark glances at Kerri.
“Let’s talk about the Myers case,” Brooks said. “Have you looked into the Walker Academy connection as we discussed yesterday morning?”
Surprise lanced through Kerri. He hadn’t told Sykes and Peterson until yesterday morning? Sue was murdered yesterday morning. These two wouldn’t have had time to pass along the info to anyone who may have had something to do with her death.
Well, hell.
“No, sir. After what happened with Sarah Talley, we were a little busy.”
“So you haven’t discussed Sue Grimes or Walker Academy with any of your sources? With anyone, for that matter?”
Sykes shook his head. “We haven’t talked to anyone about it.”
“We did hear she’d been murdered,” Peterson chimed in. “Which pretty much put trying to talk to her on the back burner.”
What an ass. Kerri turned to the man. “Really? You’re going to joke about a woman’s murder?”
“At least I ain’t hiding my kid from a homicide investigation.”
“What the hell are you talking about?” Kerri demanded.
“We went to the school to talk to Tori, and she wasn’t there,” Peterson said.
“You went to talk to her without calling me first?”
“We were going to call,” Sykes interjected. “We hadn’t gotten that far.”
“Just as far as the school and asking for her,” Kerri shot back.
“You don’t get it,” Peterson growled. “The Talley girl didn’t just try and off herself; she left a note.”
Sykes glared at him. Peterson shrugged.
“What does that mean, Peterson?” Kerri demanded.
“Sarah Talley left a note confessing to pushing Brendal Myers down those stairs. She said Tori was the one who came up with the idea to get rid of Brendal. Alice Cortez tried to talk them out of it, but . . .” Sykes turned his hands up. “You know how it turned out.”
“I have no idea why,” Kerri argued, her voice quavering, “but Sarah lied. Tori would never do that.” The sting of betrayal was sharp. Why in the world would Sarah have made up such an awful lie? Following that hollow burn of betrayal was a stab of outright fear that she refused to acknowledge. Tori would not hurt anyone or urge a friend to do so. Not possible.
It was like Tori said . . . everything was wrong . . . upside down.
“You can’t be sure, Devlin,” Peterson argued. “Kids do stupid shit sometimes.”
“You see,” she shouted at him, tears way too damned close to the surface, “that very attitude is why this investigation is so screwed up. You two are only looking for the easiest and fastest way out of this.”
“I know you’re upset,” Sykes allowed, “but that’s going too far, Devlin.”
“Is it?” she roared.
“Stop. Now,” Brooks commanded. “This discussion is over.”
“Sir,” Kerri began.
“Enough,” Brooks ordered.
When the room was silent, he turned to Sykes and Peterson. “You two will follow through with the information provided to Devlin by Grimes, and you will follow up on the Redmond girl’s disappearance. Talk to her parents. Talk to the head of Walker Academy. Check in with the detective assigned to both cases. If these events are in any way linked to the Myers case, I want to know. Are we understood?”
“This is not going to be like that,” Falco assured her.
“You can’t be certain,” Kerri argued. “Look at what Sarah Talley did just today.”
“Tori is stronger than Sarah,” Falco argued.
“I hope so.” In addition to feeling helpless, Kerri felt guilty too. “I should be helping you with the Kurtz investigation. The case is too much for one person.”
“I’ve got this. You keep your focus on Tori and this Cortez girl. There’s something more than adolescent bickering in all this. To tell you the truth, it sounds a whole hell of a lot like plain old murder.”
Her partner was right, and that was the scariest part.
26
10:00 p.m.
Mulligan’s Pub
Sixth Avenue, Twenty-Seventh Street
Birmingham
Mason watched the man enter the pub and survey the place. Darius Washburn spotted Mason and snaked his way through the jam-packed tables and around booths. The place was crowded for a Thursday night.
No surprise. Pauley, the son of a bitch, had always known an Irish pub would do well on this corner.
Washburn pulled out the chair across from Mason and sat. Even in the dim lighting Mason noted the sprinkle of gray at the man’s temples. The first time he’d hired Darius for a job, he’d been twenty-five and fresh out of prison. The man was good, very good. Possibly the best at getting in and out of places and, more importantly, finding things. But there were drawbacks with Darius.
Now that he’d cultivated such a respected reputation for himself, he honored the highest bidder.
Darius ordered his preferred ale and turned his attention to Mason. “You have a job for me?”
The only time they ever met in person was when Mason gave him instructions on a new assignment. Mason didn’t leave trails to be followed. No texts, no calls, no emails. Nothing. Face-to-face. That was the way he conducted this sort of business. It was best for all concerned.
Meeting here, with his daughter just upstairs, was a sort of irony only he understood for now. Perhaps Darius would come to see it later.
“Not at this time,” Mason said. “I’m going to ask you a few questions, and you’re going to answer.”
Darius smirked but said nothing because the waitress had appeared with his beer.
When she had flitted away, the younger man said, “You know I don’t answer questions about my other assignments, so don’t ask. I wouldn’t want our relationship to become awkward like that.”
Mason felt himself smile. Oh yes, the cocky little shit had decided the price of his stock had risen significantly.
“Darius.” Mason shook his head. “Your memory must be failing you. However valuable your services are to others, however much they choose to pay you for those services, I”—Mason patted his chest for emphasis—“own you. Forgetting that fact could be very awkward for you.”
Fury tightened the younger man’s face. “What do you want, Cross?”
Much better. It was infinitely useful to have information on anyone you might one day need. Mason had learned this lesson particularly well from someone far more ruthless than him. Take the fact that Darius Washburn had murdered his own father after his release from prison. Not that anyone could prove it or that Mason blamed him. The old bastard had set up his son to take the fall for his own bad deed. Never underestimate how far your offspring might go for revenge if you screwed them over badly enough.
Those words were inscribed across Mason’s brain. His own offspring would likely one day have her revenge. Maybe sooner than he had anticipated.
“Who hired you to hit Naomi Taylor’s home?” Mason asked. “Or more specifically, who hired you to stage such a blunder. We both know that job would have been a piece of cake. Apparently, someone wanted to send a message, and I want to know who that someone was. Particularly since the message appears to have been intended to prompt trouble for me.”
And it had worked. Sadie had immediately put the blame on him.
“What’s it to you?”
“Shall I rephrase the question?”
Darius leaned forward. “Are you trying to get me killed? You’ve never asked me to do this before. Why now?”
“Was it her?” Mason demanded.
Darius blew out a breath. “It was Lana Walsh.”
He shouldn’t be surprised, and yet somehow he was. Mason moved on to the next question. “What else did she hire you to do?”
“Nothing,” Darius snapped. He chugged down his beer, wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. “She wanted something her son had hidden in the house.”
“How did she know he’d hidden something?”
Darius shrugged. “Who knows? I wasn’t hired to know the why; I was only hired to do the job.”
“Yet you ensured the job was not done and that even the police discovered what had been done.”
Darius ignored the accusation. “I did what I was paid to do.”
Obviously, Lana Walsh had been outbid. How curious.
“I’d like you to stay away from anything or anyone related to Asher Walsh,” Mason warned. “This one is mine.”
Darius dared to smile. “Sure.” He pushed back his chair and stood. “Don’t call me again unless you have a paying offer.” Before going, he leaned down and said, “I wasn’t going to mention just how loyal I’ve been to you, but since we’re here, like this, why not? Old friend, I turned down a premium offer to take out your daughter. Since she’s still breathing, I’d say that makes us even now.”
Mason didn’t bother rushing after him to ask who had hired him to hurt Sadie.
He already knew the answer with the kind of certainty only a father could understand.
27
Session Four
Three Years Ago
Dr. Holden waits for her to speak. The sound of fabric rustling suggests he crossed or uncrossed his legs. Or perhaps Sadie shifted her position.
Her silence goes on and on. Finally, he asks, “Do you still want to participate, Sadie? I’ve told you on several occasions that these sessions are optional—totally voluntary.”
“I need the truth.”
Her voice sounds hollow, as if she would rather be anywhere but here. Except she clearly understands she has no choice but to try.
“Very well, let’s get started. It’s January now. Eduardo’s family seem to have embraced you,” Holden prods.
“Things changed at Christmas. I missed my period in November, maybe even in October. I don’t remember. Didn’t matter at the time. It happened fairly often. I didn’t really think anything of it until December passed and there was still no period. I asked one of the household staff members—Valerie—to pick up a couple of pregnancy tests in town. She promised not to tell, and I trusted her. I don’t trust easily.”
“Meaning you felt entirely comfortable sharing this potential bombshell with her.”
“Yes.”
“Did she bring what you needed?”
“She did, and both tests showed positive. I was pregnant. Not a good thing, considering my position.”
She says these things with such detachment. Perhaps because of the subtle form of hypnosis. There were times when she grew emotional. But not now. Not about the pregnancy.
“I would think this new development would have bonded you even closer to Eduardo.”
“It did. He asked me to marry him. He was thrilled. The old man didn’t appear to hate the idea, but who could say. He rarely got excited.”
“And the girl? The daughter, Isabella?”
“Eddie didn’t want her to know in the beginning.”
“I see.” Holden hesitates a moment. “What happened to the wedding plans? I’m assuming you did not marry him.”
“Around that same time there was growing unrest in another cartel. There was talk of a war. The tension was mounting. I could feel it thickening with each passing day.”
A long silence follows this explanation. Does she fear what comes next? Who wouldn’t?
“Did something happen in January, Sadie?”
“There was a meeting. I can’t remember the exact day. But, at some point in January, I overheard a telephone conversation between Eddie and his father and a female. The woman was on the phone; she wasn’t there at the compound. The call was on speaker, and the three were arguing. The woman seemed to be winning. It was very strange. Whatever she suggested, the old man agreed. Eddie not so much.”
“Did you know this woman?”
“No. I didn’t know her . . . don’t know her.”
“She was never addressed by her name?”
“No. Carlos referred to her only once or twice by manita.”
“Little sister.”
“Yes.”
“Were you or those in your task force aware Carlos had a sister or someone to whom he referred as sister?”
“No. The existence of a female relative was never proven. To my knowledge, it was decided she was some sort of business partner. An outsider with some other source of power besides blood.”
“Eduardo didn’t refer to her as aunt or by any term of endearment?”
“No. He was very angry during what I heard of the conversation. I can’t remember specifics, but I got the impression he didn’t like her.”
“Was there anything about the conversation that proved particularly important to your assignment?”
“Yes. The decision was made to initiate a strike against the other cartel. I passed this information along to my contact that same day.”
“Why would a strike against a rival cartel be of significance in your operation?”
“It was the DEA’s plan to boost the rival cartel’s means so they would be able to defeat the Osorio family. A surprise attack wouldn’t bode well for that end.”
Holden says nothing else for a while. Eventually, he asks, “Is this common practice for an agency to use a criminal element to help accomplish their goal?”
“Happens all the time.”
“How did this development affect your situation?”
“Passing along this information blew my cover. I was taken into custody by the old man’s security regime.”
“Did Eduardo intervene on your behalf?”
“No. When the commander of the security team told him what I had done, he turned his back and walked out of the room.”
“He said nothing to you or to the commander?”
“‘Make the call.’ That’s all he said.”
“Meaning the decision or an actual call?”
“I don’t know. My memories of that time are less than reliable.”
“You were extremely lucky.”
“I guess that depends on how you define lucky.”
“You lived.”
“Did I?”
28
Friday, April 16
8:30 a.m.
Birmingham Police Department
First Avenue North
The LT wasn’t buying the scenario that Sue Grimes was dead because the BPD had a leak.
Kerri wanted to scream. Right now, this minute, she should be working the Kurtz case with her partner. Falco was handling this high-profile damned case alone. Because Kerri was terrified for her daughter.
Actually, at this point, Kerri was beyond desperate. “You are the only person besides Falco I told about Sue’s story.”
The accusation hung in the thick-with-tension air. Brooks stared at her in a sort of stunned silence.
“Are you accusing me of something, Detective?”
Kerri refused to back down. “No, sir. I’m accusing someone you may have spoken to regarding the situation. Sue Grimes is dead. I can’t believe her murder, less than twenty-four hours after telling me that story, is a coincidence.”
The LT had offered her a seat the moment she’d entered his office, but Kerri hadn’t been able to sit. She stood there now, hands on her hips, waiting for his reaction like a prisoner about to be executed. She felt exactly as alone as a prisoner on death row. Her entire career, this was the one place she had never felt alone or out of place.
Until now.
“You see, that’s the problem, Devlin,” he said, leaning forward to brace his forearms on his desk. “What you told me was a ‘story.’ Hearsay from the librarian at the school where a tragedy occurred. If your friend had proof of what she said, why not go to the police? Why allow this dangerous girl to go to another school, unfazed, and hurt someone else? What kind of person was this friend?”
Fury erupted inside Kerri, but she held it back. Now he was just trying to make her angry. “She was afraid for the other girl. The girl begged her not to tell.”
“The girl that might be missing now?” he tossed back.
“She disappeared shortly after I shared the information.” Kerri held his gaze. “With you.”
Her boss took a breath. “This is what I can tell you, Detective. I shared this information with exactly three people. Sykes and Peterson because they are working the Myers case. I also briefed the chief in a private meeting. Are you prepared to accuse one of those three people of leaking this information?” He held up his hands. “Better yet, which of the three do you believe would have wanted to harm Sue Grimes and this missing child, Violet Redmond?”
No matter that she knew in her gut she was right, his words made Kerri’s face burn with something besides anger. “I am not accusing anyone, sir. What I am suggesting is that someone along this loop may have unknowingly shared the information with someone else who allowed a leak—either accidentally or on purpose.”
Brooks hit the intercom on his desk phone. His assistant responded immediately with a “Yes, sir.”
“Get Sykes and Peterson in my office ASAP.”
Another “Yes, sir” echoed in the room.
The LT gestured to a chair in front of his desk. “Sit, Devlin. We may have to wait a bit.”
Kerri lowered into the nearest chair. He was the one angry now. She refused to regret this confrontation. It had to be done. Today. Now. Should have been done yesterday. “I tried to talk to you yesterday.”
“I’m aware,” he said. “For your information, I had a funeral to attend. Does that excuse my not getting back to you before this morning?”
Now she felt like a total shit—at least on that point. Before she could apologize, he went on, “Should I call the chief and request his presence as well?” His glare warned that he wasn’t entirely joking.
Neither was she. She met his glare without flinching. “I’ll leave that to your discretion, sir.”
He looked away.
A knock on the door had Brooks announcing, “Come in.”
Sykes and Peterson swaggered into the room. “You wanted to see us,” Sykes said.
The two glanced at Kerri and audibly exhaled.
Perfect. Now they were all pissed at her.
“Take a seat, Detectives.”
The two did as they were told, making no attempt to conceal their dark glances at Kerri.
“Let’s talk about the Myers case,” Brooks said. “Have you looked into the Walker Academy connection as we discussed yesterday morning?”
Surprise lanced through Kerri. He hadn’t told Sykes and Peterson until yesterday morning? Sue was murdered yesterday morning. These two wouldn’t have had time to pass along the info to anyone who may have had something to do with her death.
Well, hell.
“No, sir. After what happened with Sarah Talley, we were a little busy.”
“So you haven’t discussed Sue Grimes or Walker Academy with any of your sources? With anyone, for that matter?”
Sykes shook his head. “We haven’t talked to anyone about it.”
“We did hear she’d been murdered,” Peterson chimed in. “Which pretty much put trying to talk to her on the back burner.”
What an ass. Kerri turned to the man. “Really? You’re going to joke about a woman’s murder?”
“At least I ain’t hiding my kid from a homicide investigation.”
“What the hell are you talking about?” Kerri demanded.
“We went to the school to talk to Tori, and she wasn’t there,” Peterson said.
“You went to talk to her without calling me first?”
“We were going to call,” Sykes interjected. “We hadn’t gotten that far.”
“Just as far as the school and asking for her,” Kerri shot back.
“You don’t get it,” Peterson growled. “The Talley girl didn’t just try and off herself; she left a note.”
Sykes glared at him. Peterson shrugged.
“What does that mean, Peterson?” Kerri demanded.
“Sarah Talley left a note confessing to pushing Brendal Myers down those stairs. She said Tori was the one who came up with the idea to get rid of Brendal. Alice Cortez tried to talk them out of it, but . . .” Sykes turned his hands up. “You know how it turned out.”
“I have no idea why,” Kerri argued, her voice quavering, “but Sarah lied. Tori would never do that.” The sting of betrayal was sharp. Why in the world would Sarah have made up such an awful lie? Following that hollow burn of betrayal was a stab of outright fear that she refused to acknowledge. Tori would not hurt anyone or urge a friend to do so. Not possible.
It was like Tori said . . . everything was wrong . . . upside down.
“You can’t be sure, Devlin,” Peterson argued. “Kids do stupid shit sometimes.”
“You see,” she shouted at him, tears way too damned close to the surface, “that very attitude is why this investigation is so screwed up. You two are only looking for the easiest and fastest way out of this.”
“I know you’re upset,” Sykes allowed, “but that’s going too far, Devlin.”
“Is it?” she roared.
“Stop. Now,” Brooks commanded. “This discussion is over.”
“Sir,” Kerri began.
“Enough,” Brooks ordered.
When the room was silent, he turned to Sykes and Peterson. “You two will follow through with the information provided to Devlin by Grimes, and you will follow up on the Redmond girl’s disappearance. Talk to her parents. Talk to the head of Walker Academy. Check in with the detective assigned to both cases. If these events are in any way linked to the Myers case, I want to know. Are we understood?”
