D for Dead, page 15
When Rebecca shook her head, lost for words, he took a step closer, eyes not leaving her face.
‘You know, I’ve missed this. Sparring with you.’
‘You mean insulting me,’ Rebecca corrected, this time wise enough to not to get suckered in.
The doorbell sounded and Hickok raised his eyebrows.
‘Pizza,’ Rebecca told him.
‘I should’ve guessed.’ When she made to push past him, he stopped her. ‘I got it.’
‘No, I–’ He’d already left the room. ‘I’m not sharing my dinner with you, Hickok!’ she yelled at his back. She could see he had his wallet out and was paying the guy.
Kicking the door closed, he carried the pizza back through into the living room.
‘Jeez, Angell. You eat like a horse. How much food have you got here?’
Rebecca made a grab for the box.
‘Give me my pizza.’
‘Technically it’s my pizza. I paid for it,’ Hickok pointed out, grinning, holding the box at arm’s length.
‘You are such an asshole.’
Rebecca launched herself at him, catching hold of his arm as she reached for the pizza box.
Hickok’s grin widened as he held it out of her reach and instinctively she slipped her foot behind his, tripping him as he took a step back. His free hand locked around her arm as he stumbled and they both went down, Hickok landing on his back on the couch, Rebecca on top of him. The pizza box crashed to the floor behind them.
Oh shit.
Keeping her distance was one thing, but now, lying here on top of him and on the same damn couch where they had once been at it like rabbits, old feelings resurfaced.
Hickok grinned, realising, and lifted his hand to her face, brushing his fingers down her cheek.
Everything inside Rebecca tingled and, caught up in the moment, her mouth inched towards his.
What are you doing you idiot?
Rationality kicked in at the last second.
Before he could stop her, she pushed herself back and got up from the couch.
Hickok lay there for a second, watching her as she busied herself picking pizza up from the floor. A couple of slices were ruined, but most of it was still in the box.
What the hell had she been thinking? Her thoughts went to Alan and she immediately felt guilty.
‘You know you want it as much as I do.’ Hickok’s words cut through her thoughts.
‘Excuse me?’
‘You, me.’ He slowly sat up, patted the couch and grinned. ‘Here, for old time’s sake.’
‘I have a boyfriend,’ she said tightly.
‘Yeah, we’ll see.’
‘I mean it, Hickok. I’m not here to be your plaything whenever you decide to roll into town.’
When he continued to stare at her, that cocky grin on his face, Rebecca shook her head. ‘I’ll get plates.’
From now on she had to keep things strictly professional with Hickok, focus purely on the case. He was an idiot coming here, but he was here and she would take the higher road, share her dinner with him, after which she would politely ask him to leave.
She could do that.
The room was gloomy, the single overhead light flickering annoyingly and he briefly considered changing the bulb. He had enough light for what he needed to do, though, and decided it would probably enhance the atmosphere once his victim was in place. The room had been perfect for the job. The bathtub was positioned beneath a sturdy wooden beam, which would securely hold the rope he had hooked over it. On the floor lay his tools: more rope, cuffs, duct tape, a plastic overall and gloves, his butcher’s knife and a taser. Beside them was a copy of Amy Gallaty’s third novel, Blood Crime.
He glanced at his watch, noted it was nearly nine thirty. The next victim would soon be in place, ready for him to make his move. Carefully he selected the tools he needed, placed them in his sports bag. Casting a final glance over the room, he allowed himself a small smile. Everything was perfect, everything in place.
He grabbed his bag, killed the light and stepped out of the room.
21
Jake walked Roxy by the river, enjoying the time spent alone with his thoughts. She seemed delighted to have him to herself and, although he’d let her off the leash, she mostly stayed close.
Dusk had settled; the street lights were already on and there were maybe another fifteen minutes left before night took hold. As he made his way along the riverbank his thoughts were on Amy.
Away from her he could be rational, understood he was crossing boundaries. This wasn’t his style. He had always been a cop who’d been able to keep work life and personal life in separate boxes. Why was Amy Gallaty different? Subconsciously he found himself wandering the route through the park leading out opposite her apartment building.
Damn it, Jake. Focus.
Although a faint glow of light came from the patio window, he knew she wasn’t home. He had left her with Hal Peterson, a level-headed patrol officer from the precinct. Peterson was no Boaz and Jake trusted him to keep Amy safe. She had a bar shift tonight and the officer would be blending discreetly with the clientele, while watching her every move.
Which leaves you with some free time.
The thought made him restless. It was Saturday night and he should be enjoying some downtime.
His neighbour, Natalie, was having a party. She’d invited him weeks ago and it had slipped his mind. He’d seen her as he’d been heading out with Roxy, dressed in a little black number, and she’d asked him if he was coming. Maybe he should go.
Either that or he could call up Brad Kramer; grab a beer down at Mahoney’s. It tended to be the local cop hangout and there would be a dozen of their other colleagues in there. Musing on the idea, he bent down to clip the leash on Roxy before they reached the roadside, attention drawn to the dozen or so cigarette butts on the ground. Perhaps it was nothing, but it was dead opposite Amy’s apartment and an odd place for someone to stand and smoke.
He thought of Amy’s ex-boyfriend, David Gavin, allegedly back in town. Was he watching her, with a score to settle? Then there was Nadine Williams and Troy Cunningham. Nadine seemed too hot-headed to lurk around in bushes, but what about Troy? There was something off about the guy.
Out of habit he kept a couple of evidence bags in his wallet. Careful to use the plastic of the bag, he picked up the butts, secured them and stuffed them in his pocket.
It wouldn’t hurt to check them out.
‘So where is Robin tonight?’ Angell asked through a mouthful of pizza.
‘What was that?’ Although he’d gotten the gist of it, Joel shook his head. ‘I can’t tell what you’re saying with all that bread stuffed in your mouth.’
She scowled at him, this time finishing her mouthful before speaking. ‘I asked where Robin was.’
‘Robin?’
‘Yeah, I figure you’d want to be Batman. Your ego couldn’t handle being Robin.’
They’d settled into an uneasy truce following the earlier incident on her couch, Angell having grudgingly allowed him to stay and share her pizza.
She’d nearly kissed him. They both knew that. He also knew it pissed her off.
He wasn’t honestly sure how it made him feel.
It irritated the hell out of him she was dating a douche like Alan. He’d forgotten how feisty she was, how much he enjoyed sparring with her, and he was still attracted to her.
She hadn’t changed a whole lot. Maybe there was the odd line on her face, but she still wore her dark hair long and her feline eyes sparked when she was angry. She was definitely more confident, sexier.
Six years ago they had both rushed in without thinking about it. Joel didn’t do relationships and, even if he did, how the hell was it supposed to work when they lived on opposite sides of the country? And so he had made sure it stayed short and sweet.
Why was now any different?
‘If we’re talking about Rivers then he’d never handle being Batman,’ he told her, pushing the problem out of his mind. ‘To be honest, he makes a pretty lame Robin too.’
‘So you ditched him to come annoy me?’
‘I didn’t ditch him, Angell. I don’t hang out with him period.’ When she raised her eyebrows, he pulled a face. ‘What? I’m not his babysitter for crying out loud. Besides, he’s got the whole rich kid thing going on. His daddy is well connected and hooks him up with a lot of freebies to benefits and big sports games. He mentioned something about driving up to Portland to watch the Trail Blazers.’
‘He’s a rich kid, eh?’
‘How else do you think he got into the Bureau? It wasn’t because he passed his field agent training with flying colours.’
Joel had heard rumours Rivers should have flunked out at Quantico. His daddy, Chuck Rivers, was pals with the assistant director and had called in a favour. Declan wanted to be an FBI field agent so Declan would be an FBI field agent, no matter what strings needed to be pulled.
The politics of it stank, and now Joel was stuck looking after him.
‘Trust me, we’re safer if he keeps himself occupied with ball games and stays away from the case.’
‘He didn’t do bad work today,’ Angell pointed out, dropping a crust back in the pizza box. She’d ordered extra-large and between them they’d eaten it all.
Joel wondered how the hell she had planned on putting away the whole pizza herself. But then the woman did have the appetite of a pig.
‘Yeah, he did okay today,’ he admitted grudgingly. ‘Still doesn’t excuse all the other times he’s been a complete fuck up. I don’t trust him to have my back in the field.’
‘Not like Max.’
‘No, not like Max at all.’ Joel shoved the last mouthful of pizza into his mouth, wiped his hands on a serviette and threw it in the box. ‘So, Angell, what say you and I go for a drink?’
His suggestion had her frowning.
‘No, Hickok. I thought I made myself clear. I’m in a relationship. I’m not going for a drink with you.’
‘Chill out. I’m not asking you out on a date. I said let’s go for a drink.’
‘Theoretically, they are the same thing. Besides, I remember the last time we went for a drink you got yourself punched in the face and it ended up being my fault.’
‘It was your fault.’
‘You needed quicker reactions.’
‘My reactions are just fine.’ He grinned at her, remembering. ‘That bar still there?’
‘You mean the Blue Moose? Yeah, though I haven’t been there in years. I mostly drink at Mahoney’s these days.’ Rebecca screwed up her nose. ‘Bourbon’s not so good, but it’s the local cop hangout.’
‘I was thinking we should go visit the Velvet Lounge. Our cocktail serving mystery writer is working tonight. Peterson is with her, but wouldn’t hurt to have extra eyes in the bar.’
‘Okay.’
‘Okay, yes?’
Angell narrowed her eyes. ‘Okay, I’m considering your suggestion.’
Joel glanced at his watch. ‘Well consider faster. If we’re gonna go we need to leave pretty sharpish.’ He glanced at her sweats. ‘And you’re gonna need to change first. I’m not walking in with you looking like a bag lady.’ He grinned when her eyes flashed angrily. ‘Maybe you can wear the red number you had on the other night.’
The red number that had hugged her curves in all the right places.
The red number she had worn for Alan.
Angell smiled tightly. ‘I’ll go put on my jeans.’
Joel cleared away the pizza box and plates while he waited.
So Alan the douche got the red dress and he got jeans. Go figure.
The jeans did look good on her he had to admit when she emerged ten minutes later. They hugged her ass and fitted to her curves like glue. Yeah, the jeans were good. And whatever perfume she was wearing, that smelt good too.
She looked a little distracted, as she emptied the contents of her purse onto the couch.
‘What’s up?’
‘I can’t find my ring.’
‘So? You don’t normally wear a ring.’
‘Not for work. It’s one my folks gave me. My mom will kill me if I’ve lost it.’
Joel glanced at his watch. It was getting late.
‘You want to stay here and hunt for it now? We need to get going, Angell.’
‘Okay.’ She snapped her purse shut, gave him a tight smile. ‘I’ll look for it tomorrow.’
Nadine sipped a large Martini while she waited for Troy to finish getting ready.
She was restless after the day’s events; still couldn’t believe he had let Amy Gallaty into her house. And to then have that bonehead officer try to arrest her. Troy owed her big time. She had talked him into buying her dinner. A new Vietnamese restaurant had opened in town and by some kind of miracle they had managed to secure a last-minute reservation. Nadine would have pho and a nice bottle of wine on Troy.
He had suggested they then take in a movie. There was a remake of The Italian Job playing he wanted to see.
Nadine had smiled, but remained non-committal. She was still seething about earlier and had her own plans in mind. The Velvet Lounge was only a block away from the movie theatre. Maybe she would get her own back on Amy and pay her a surprise visit.
Jake opted for Natalie’s party, showering and throwing on clean jeans and a shirt before digging out a bottle of Jameson’s he had lying around in a cupboard.
Natalie opened the door, pleased to see him. They had been neighbours for a couple of years and she had a key to his place, taking Roxy out if he ever had to work late.
He recognised a few other tenants, Natalie’s current boyfriend, Dan, and one or two of her friends who had visited before. She pushed him in the direction of three girls who were standing in the kitchen caught up in conversation.
‘Jake, I want you to meet some good friends of mine, Kim, Melissa and Haley. Girls, this is my neighbour, Jake, who I was telling you about.’
Jake caught the knowing look the girls exchanged, understood now Natalie’s intention of getting him to the party had been to set him up. On the occasions they ran into each other, she would rag him about his love life, telling him he worked too hard and needed to meet a nice girl.
He swore she was in cahoots with his mother.
‘It’s good to meet you, Jake. Natalie has told us all about you.’ This was from Haley, easily the prettiest of the three, with dark hair and a toothpaste smile.
‘Has she now.’ Jake shot Natalie a look, letting her know he was onto her. While her interference mildly irritated him, he was also figuring what was the harm? They seemed nice enough girls. A couple of drinks and conversation would take his mind off Amy.
Natalie poured him some of the Jameson’s before leaving him with her friends, looking mighty pleased with her cupid effort.
For the next hour Jake found himself trapped in the kitchen as the three girls vied for his attention. Kim was the pushiest, using every opportunity to make physical contact and already proposing he take her out, while Melissa and Haley hung on his every word. They were three pleasant, attractive girls and any guy in his position would have been lapping up the attention, so why did he find himself bored, restless, his mind wandering?
Because you’re an idiot, Sullivan.
He stole a glance at his watch, disappointed it wasn’t as late as he thought.
‘You got somewhere else you need to be?’ Kim asked, running a finger down the front of his shirt.
Jake thought of Amy, working in the Velvet Lounge. Peterson was with her and he was a good cop. He would keep her safe. Still, it wouldn’t hurt to have a second pair of eyes. If the place was busy, it would be harder to keep tabs on her. He finished his whiskey, set the glass down and eased himself away from the counter.
‘There’s a work situation I have to check in on.’
All three girls looked disappointed. They knew he was a cop and in his line of work things cropped up.
‘Will you be coming back?’ That was from Kim again.
When he told her it was unlikely, she practically pouted, so he softened it to a maybe.
Coward. You know you’re not coming back.
Ignoring the unsubtle attempts to get his cell number, he excused himself, found Natalie to say goodbye and left the party.
He returned briefly to his apartment to grab his service revolver and car keys, then locked up and made his way downstairs, convincing himself his visit to the Velvet Lounge was going to be purely for professional reasons.
He watched the bar from a lot across the street. Although the Velvet Lounge had its own parking he couldn’t risk waiting there. The cops had already put a protection detail on Amy Gallaty and there was every possibility they would be watching this place tonight.
He appreciated it more when the stakes were high; it made pulling off the kill risky, but the results and the buzz were worth it.
He waited patiently, watched the patrons come and go, the bouncer guarding the door, one of the cocktail waitresses step outside on her break for a quick smoke. Glancing at his wristwatch he knew it would soon be time to make his move.
Just a short while longer.
He leaned forward, forearms resting on the steering wheel and continued to watch. The thrill was steadily building inside him, but he had to be patient.
Not long now.
22
The Velvet Lounge drew a good crowd on Saturdays and tonight was no exception.
Amy’s shift began at seven and she found it a blessed relief to throw her head into work, appreciating the return to normality after what had been an unsettling day. She was working the shift with two other waitresses, Fran, and one of the new girls, Chloe. As the three of them collected orders and served drinks, Gage and Tom mixed up cocktails.
No one had commented on Amy’s scratches. She had spent half an hour working with make-up to disguise them and wore her tawny brown hair loose around her face. If anyone did comment, she figured she’d blame Huckleberry.
