A Deadly Row (5 page)

“This is official police business,” Davis said.

“Zach’s not a cop anymore, either.”

“It’s different. He’s on the payroll.”

I looked at my husband, who was clearly getting impatient with this particular conversation. Zach just shrugged as he reached into his wallet and handed me a five dollar bill.

“What’s that for? Lunch? You’re not buying me off with a five, you know that, don’t you?”

“Don’t be thick, Savannah. That’s your fee as my assistant. You are now officially on the payroll.”

“Is this all I’m worth to you?” I couldn’t believe he’d handed me just a five. I was worth at least twice that.

“It’s just to cover our bases in case someone asks,” Zach explained.

“The five’s fine, then,” I said as I folded it and tucked it into my jeans. “Would you like a receipt for your tax records?”

“You can mail it to me,” he said as he turned to Davis. “Are you satisfied now?”

“She shouldn’t be involved in this, Zach. It’s too dangerous.”

I was about to reply when I saw my husband bite his lower lip. He was about to handle things just fine without any interference from me. “We’re a matched set, and you don’t break those up. I’ll protect her.”

“Hey, I can protect myself,” I protested.

No one even acknowledged that I had spoken.

“Maybe you’ll think twice about it after you see this,” Davis said.

He pulled a Polaroid snapshot out of his jacket pocket and showed it to Zach. It was safely tucked into a plastic evidence bag, and I steeled myself for whatever grizzly scene it portrayed. I could handle most things, but I still wasn’t thrilled with seeing graphic acts of violence captured on film.

Zach studied it for a long time, and then handed it back to Davis.

“Hey, I want to see that,” I said.

Zach thought about it, and then shrugged. “Show her.”

“I want to go on the record right now. This is not a good idea.”

“She has a right to know,” my husband said. At that point, I wasn’t sure I wanted to see what was in the picture anymore.

“Suit yourself,” Davis said as he handed it to me.

In an instant, I realized why Davis hadn’t wanted me to see the photograph, and my husband had.

It showed me crouching in the back of Grady’s truck, my arm extended through the open sliding window and vanishing behind the seat.

Whoever had taken it had been close enough to reach out and touch me.

 

WITHOUT REALIZING I’D DONE IT, I DROPPED THE PHO
tograph, and it fluttered to the floor.

“Are you okay, Savannah?” Zach said as he wrapped one arm around me. “I should have warned you.”

“I’m fine,” I said, though I clearly wasn’t. I couldn’t shake the belief that I should have seen whoever had taken that snapshot. Why hadn’t I turned to see someone taking it? Could I have identified the killer, if I’d only had the foresight to look?

“Are you sure?”

“Zach, it’s okay. He just wanted to prove that he saw us looking for Grady. It’s not like he’s threatening me. Is it?” Another thought jumped into my head unbidden. Was it possible that whoever had taken that photo knew how close my husband and I were to the mayor? Could it be that he was planning to use our relationship to come after Grady, or was it just a coincidence that he’d captured me on film? Either way, I wasn’t too happy about it.

“How do we know this is from the killer?” I asked Davis.

He flipped the photo, and I saw that someone had carefully lettered “3A” in red magic marker. “What is that supposed to mean?”

“We were hoping your husband would be able to figure it out.”

Zach took the offered photograph again, studied the sequence, and then shook his head. “I don’t have a clue.”

“Why does that not comfort me?” I asked.

“Give me time, Savannah. You’re welcome to go back home until I figure this out. As a matter of fact, it might not be a bad idea. You’d be safer there.”

“Are you kidding me? I like to think I’m pretty self-sufficient, but I’m also pragmatic about it. If someone’s got me in his sights, I’d just as soon have you around, instead of being two hours away.”

He nodded. “To tell you the truth, I wouldn’t be able to get anything done here; I’d be worrying about you the entire time.” He turned to Davis. “Let’s see the rest of those photographs. Maybe something I see will make some sense of this mess.”

“It’s all upstairs,” he said. “We were just getting ready to form a task force, so I had my men take everything up there.”

“Who all is on this task force of yours?” Zach asked.

Davis grinned slightly. “Well, so far, there’s you.”

“Don’t forget my assistant,” he said.

“I’m not sure I’m all that thrilled with that title,” I said.

“But you’ll take it, right?”

“You bet. I don’t care what you call me, as long as you let me in on what’s going on.”

Davis led us upstairs, and we came to a large, empty conference room with five white boxes perched on a long, folding table. The walls were blank, and there wasn’t a window in the place. Against one wall were six folding chairs and a few more tables, but there wasn’t another thing in the room.

“We can do better than this,” Davis said.

“It’s fine,” Zach said. “I can use the wall space to pin everything up, or you can bring in some foil-backed foam insulation board if you don’t want to ruin your walls.” The construction foam board was a favorite of my husband’s. It came in four by eight foot sheets, and it took pushpins beautifully.

“I’ll have them here within an hour, and I’ll also have a copier moved in,” Davis said. “Do you need anything else at the moment?”

“No, we’re good,” Zach said, barely even acknowledging the man’s presence. I knew my husband too well. He was already deep in thought about how to catch this killer, and I was going to do everything in my power to help him.

“It might help if you gave me a little information about what’s been happening,” I said.

Zach looked at me, clearly distracted by my question, but if I was going to be of any assistance, I had to have some information.

“So far, there have been two murders that are connected o the threat on Grady. A high-society businessman with a lot of different companies, Hank Tristan, was discovered in his bed stabbed in the heart after a charity ball. The second victim, Cindy Glass, was a little less prominent, a personal assistant to a very important man in Charlotte, but the notes sent afterward along with the souvenirs were from the same person, so we know they’re linked somehow.”

I knew what the distraction was costing my husband, and though I wanted more details, I understood I had to be satisfied with the information I had. We set up the other tables and chairs, and Zach started digging through the boxes.

“Is there anything in particular you’re looking for?” I asked. “Maybe I can help you.”

“This looks like everything was just dumped into a box without any rhyme or reason. I need to make sense of it, but before I can do that, I have to get it organized.”

“That’s something I can help with. My whole job as a puzzle maker is to find order in chaos.”

He whistled under his breath, a sure sign that he wanted to say something to me that he didn’t think I was going to like.

“Zach, don’t think of me as your wife right now. Treat me like an assistant and tell me what you’d like me to do.”

“Some of these photos are kind of graphic,” he said. “I’m not crazy about having you look at them.”

“I can handle it,” I said, though if I were being honest about it, the prospect of looking at dead bodies was pretty mortifying to me.

“Tell you what. You handle the official police documents, and I’ll deal with the rest.”

I started to protest when he added, “It’s the way I want it done, and I expect my assistant to do as she’s asked.”

“Just as long as you don’t expect your wife to follow orders,” I said.

“Do I look that crazy to you?”

“Where do you want me to start?”

“Find the case files for the two murders,” Zach said. “If you see any pictures or letters, anything that doesn’t look like an official police document, put it in a pile over by the door. Stack your files on the table. Let’s get started.”

As I searched through the boxes, I did my best to ignore the content of the photographs I found and tried to focus on their shapes and sizes instead. Once I forced myself to look at them as geometric objects and not photographs that would give me nightmares, things started going much faster. Sorting things was like a puzzle, and that was one thing I loved, and happened to be very good at as well.

We’d just finished doing a preliminary sort when the door opened and two police officers came in, each carrying a sheet of foam insulation board.

“Hey, Chief,” one of the cops said.

My husband brightened. “Sanders, how are you?”

They shook hands, and Zach introduced us. “Savannah, you remember Steve Sanders. He was my number one go-to guy around here before I left.”

“Deserted is more like it,” Sanders said with a grin. He was tall and lanky, with a shock of thick black hair and a clean-shaven face. I knew that he’d been in the running to take over for my husband as chief when he left, but if Steve minded them promoting Davis over him, he didn’t show it.

Zach smiled gently. “Hey, they forced me out, remember?”

“I know, I’m just kidding.” He looked around at the mess on the floor. “This place looks like a bomb just went off. Do you need a hand?”

“Thanks, but I’ve already got an assistant,” he said, pointing at me.

“Three could be better than two,” Steve said.

“Let me sort this out, and then I’ll let you know.”

“I’d do anything for you, Chief, and you know it.” He glanced at his watch. “I’m getting ready to get off, but I’d be happy to hang around.”

“You could put in for overtime, if you don’t mind helping,” Zach said.

“Excellent. It will be just like old times. What’s the first order of business?”

“Find Davis and remind him that I need that copier as soon as possible. We’ve got some work to do.”

After he was gone, I looked at Zach. “Does this mean I’m fired already? Wow, that’s quick.”

“Of course not,” he said. “Steve can help me make copies and hang this stuff up, but then you’re back on the payroll. In the meantime, why don’t you get us checked in and settled at the hotel? You know how much I hate unpacking.”

“Are you sure you’re not just trying to get rid of me?”

He wrapped me up in his arms. “Savannah, I’d never do that, even if I could.”

“Which you can’t,” I answered with a grin and a quick peck. “I know you’re just trying to protect me, and I appreciate it, but I’m tougher than you think.”

“Trust me, I know how tough you are.”

“Okay, as long as that’s settled, I’ll take off.” As I started for the door, I paused and said, “But don’t think you’re getting rid of me for good.”

“Come back when you’re finished. You can help me lay things out. There are times when I can use that organizing point of view you’ve got.”

“See you soon.”

I bumped into Steve in the hallway, and found him deep in conversation with someone on his cell phone. It was pretty clear that he wasn’t happy with whoever was on the other end, but when he spotted me, the frown changed into a smile.

“Hang on one second,” he said as he buried his phone into his chest. “My landlord’s trying to go up on my rent,” he explained to me, “and I’m trying to convince him how handy it is having a cop live there.”

“Are you having any luck?”

“Not yet, but I think I’m wearing him down. If you don’t mind my saying so, that husband of yours is the best cop I’ve ever seen.”

“He used to be,” I said evenly.

“I know he’s retired, but I can’t imagine it ever gets out of your blood, you know?”

“I’m doing my best, though, to help see that it does.”

Steve grinned at me. “You keep fighting your battle, and maybe one of us will win.”

“Good luck with yours,” I said.

He smiled, and then returned to his phone call. “It’s not going to happen,” he said as he shot me with his finger.

As I made my way out of the station to our car, I wondered if what he’d said was true. Was Zach always going to be a cop, until it ended up killing him? With his pension and my income from the puzzles, we were comfortable, but it was the excitement that Zach missed, and I knew it. The only problem was that the more he worked, the greater chance there was that he’d put himself in danger. I’d come close to losing him once, and that was something I never wanted to face again.

 

THE BELMONT WAS EVEN NICER THAN I REMEMBERED,
one of Charlotte’s finest hotels. A nicely dressed man in a suit was waiting at the front entrance with a mobile rack, and he unloaded my car snappily. As he wheeled it to the front desk, I started digging into my purse for a tip, but he held his palm up.

“Everything is being covered,” he said.

“Even tips?”

“Absolutely, Mrs. Stone.”

“How in the world did you know my name?” I’d heard of good service before, but this was a little over the top.

“The hotel owner himself told our staff to be on the lookout for you, and we’ve been waiting for your arrival ever since.”

I started for the front desk when he held out a paper sleeve containing room keys to me. “You’re already checked in, so we can go straight to your suite.”

“Suite? A room would be fine.” The last time Zach and I had stayed in a suite had been our honeymoon.

“I suppose I could move you, but it would cause us all a great deal of headaches, what with the paperwork and everything we’d have to change.” He smiled as he said it, so I decided to go with the flow. “Also, the owner would be unhappy with us if we allowed it, and none of us want to cause that. We would consider it a great favor if you’d accept this offer.”