Chills & Thrills: Three Novel Box Set (57 page)

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

Pazzini sat behind his desk, blinking eyes that had gone blurry. He attempted again to focus on the overload of paperwork. What a night. The murder at County was one he knew would be eating at him for a while. Bizarre cases always did. He suddenly felt much older than his forty-two years.

But being a cop was what he knew best. He lived for the job and his son, Luke. And the job took away from time with his kid. It wouldn’t be so hard if Anna were still here. But she wasn’t, and even with the help of his parents, he still felt he was in some way cheating Luke.

He took a large gulp of Coke and a sharp spear of burning acid shot through his stomach. Pazzini instantly regretted the decision to put jalapenos and onions on the hot dog he’d devoured earlier, after wrapping the hospital crime scene.

The stress of the job, plus the onions and hot peppers—which in all honesty, he could never get enough of—didn’t do much for the ulcer his doctor had warned him about. The burning sensation in his gut never left him alone these days. This morning it was much worse than usual.

“Jeez, Pazzini, what’d ya do? Hit Cotija’s Taco Shop last night?” Simmons taunted.

“Nah, wise ass. I had a dog with a heap of the good stuff on it.” He looked up from the paperwork and smoothed down his slightly wavy black hair, thinking he should probably comb it. He winced when his palms hit the back of his head. He could’ve sworn there had been more hair there a few months ago.

“Oh, man, that’ll do it every time. Wish I had some antacids for you. But I got a message instead.” Simmons winked at him, smacking on the tobacco chew Tony swore never left the side of his cheek. His stained teeth substantiated that theory.

“What’s that?” Tony asked, irritated by Simmons’ twang, which could only come from a cowboy wannabe. Simmons swore he was Texas born and raised. It was his story, but Tony knew the truth. He was really from Nebraska. Tony stared at the idiot for a few seconds, his annoyance growing at Simmons’ ridiculous overgrown goatee that was eons out of date. It wouldn’t hurt if he trimmed his shoulder length hair and took the earring out as well. Freaking Rhinestone Cowboy. Please.

“Boss man wants to see you, dude.”

“Dude? Seriously Simmons, you gonna catch some waves now?”

Simmons ignored him, “What d’ya do now, Paz?”

“Hey, dude, shut the hell up. Don’t call me Paz. It’s Pazzini. I can spell it for you if you like.”

Simmons held up his hands. “Hey, man, sorry. You know, no offense. Didn’t know it bugged you. Note to self.”

Tony nodded and slid out of his desk chair, heading toward his boss’s office.

“Dragging your feet a little, aren’t ya?” Simmons laughed.

That stopped the exhausted detective in his tracks. He faced Simmons. “Dude, this isn’t Texas, Nebraska, or Bum Fuck Egypt. This is L.A., and in case you hadn’t noticed, it’s you, not ya. And another thing, do you think you could lose the look? Your look? It went out with disco.”

Simmons abruptly stormed out of the room lined with desks and detectives. The place reminded Tony of a classroom, except it was far more cluttered, and instead of sweaty kids, it smelled of sweaty adults and stale air. At the moment, only a few actual detectives were sitting at their desks, mulling over reports, doing the tedious work. They had all stopped to watch the scene.

“Oh come on, Pazzini, sure the kid is an odd duck but do you have to be such a hard ass?” Barkley commented. He was an older detective who had been on the force for thirty years and was inching close to retirement.

“I just think people should be who they really are. FYI, Simmons isn’t even from Texas. He’s from fucking Nebraska!” Tony yelled back as he reached the chief’s office. Barkley was probably right. Maybe he was being too hard on Simmons, but he was exhausted and his nerves were on edge.

Standing outside Linden’s door, he couldn’t help the pang in his stomach, which he knew wasn’t entirely due to his earlier lunch. Pretty much every time he stepped into this office, his boss had a bone to pick with him. Usually, Tony had to admit, the chief was right. He had a hot button and had been known to rough up a few dope dealers and scumbags here and there. Linden always covered his ass, but not before he tore him a new one. But Pazzini couldn’t think of anything he’d done lately to warrant the usual warning…unless it had to do with Dr. Morales. He might have been a little rough on her, but he would have figured her too tough to call in a complaint about him. In any case, he’d just been doing his job. But had he pushed the doctor too hard? He didn’t think she was a killer, but those questions had to be asked. Then again, beauty could blind people from the truth. And Kelly Morales was definitely good looking.

He turned the handle on the door and peered inside Linden’s cramped quarters. The office reminded him of his grandfather’s fishing cabin up in the Sierras. At least in the way it smelled—musty, old.

Linden lifted his head up off his desk. His blue eyes were bloodshot.

“Hey, boss. Simmons said you wanted to see me.”

“Yeah. Sorry. I’m getting some shut-eye. Tired these days.” He rubbed his bleary eyes. “Think I’m fighting a flu bug. Carol is home with it.”

“That’s too bad.” Tony didn’t buy the flu thing at all.

“Anyhow, I wanted you in here because I need to know what happened at the hospital last night. I’m getting some heat from upstairs and from the mayor’s office. That sort of thing. Hospital people are upset, and the CEO over there is going nutso. I got some broad calling me every hour asking if there’s any news. I told her as soon as I know something, I’d give her a ring. And I don’t even want to talk about the media. That pain in the ass Gem Michaels from The Times has been calling about a statement and information.”

Tony tried not to smile. Gem was a tough as nails reporter, and she could be a pain but Tony liked her. She was honest. No hype. Just the facts.

“Not good, Chief.”

Tony sat down in the cracked vinyl chair across from his boss. Kind of a joke, really. The only reason the guy still had any real power was because his dad was good buddies with the commissioner. It wasn’t a secret Linden was burnt out. However, he still did merit some respect. At one time, he’d been one of the finest. He’d solved more homicides than anyone else on the force. But then he was shot while on duty and now could walk only with the help of a cane. That explained the ever-present alcohol—self-medication. He’d been put behind a desk and Tony knew it had nearly killed him.

“Any suspects?” Linden asked, the faint smell of whiskey wafting off of him.

Tony took note of the coffee cup resting on Linden’s desk and wondered what was really in it. “Nothing out of the ordinary. I’m checking into the usual things. The ex-wife, colleagues, friends, anyone associated with him who might hold a grudge. Nothing stands out at the moment.”

“No one saw anything?”

“No one coming forward, anyway. We’re still questioning people, obviously. This is going to take some time, sir.”

“We don’t have time, Pazzini. You’re telling me no one in that entire hospital spotted anything out of the ordinary? Some doc gets rubbed out in the middle of a busy hospital like County, and no one sees a thing?”

“He wasn’t in the middle of the hospital, sir. He was in the morgue, and I don’t think it’s quite as bustling as the rest of the building. I’m working on it. If anyone did see anything, they aren’t talking yet. Forensics is still over there this morning. I just received a roster of everyone who was working during those hours. But like I said, this is going to take time. We are questioning everyone. Then there were visitors in the building until eight o’ clock. We need to look at the sign-in sheets. At this point, the killer could be anyone. Oh, and we’re also checking all security cam footage.”

Linden rubbed his eyes again. He looked wiped out…or very hung over.

“What we know, or can surmise at this point, is the suspect was alone and locking up for the evening. The morgue is on the bottom floor of the hospital. The perp came from behind and zapped him with a silencer. Then slit his throat. Our big problem is how many people are in and out of that place daily—dead or alive. DNA is everywhere. It’s a hospital. The crime scene was contaminated before we even walked in the door.”

Linden nodded and leaned back in his chair. He folded his hands together and placed them under his chin. “You spoke with a woman doctor.” He looked down at some notes. “Dr. Morales? I understand she had a dinner date with the vic.”

“Yes.”

“Tell me about her.”

“Her story checks out. She was at the restaurant waiting for him. Busboy confirms seeing her. She claims they had some patients to discuss.”

Linden made a face. “What? This guy is the morgue man and she’s in the NICU. What patients could they have in common?”

“I would assume an infant...or mom. It happens. Maybe she needed to talk pathology with him. I don’t know. It seemed plausible to me.”

“Guy is taking her to Tuscany’s to talk business? He’s gonna fork over that kind of cash on a business meeting? I don’t buy it. He was looking to get a piece of ass.”

“I think he might have been looking in the wrong place,” Tony replied.

“Ice queen?”

“No. I think she’s respectable, is all. I think they were friends. Seems like there was a mutual attraction between them and if the poor guy hadn’t been killed, they may have wound up in a relationship. But at the stage they were at, it wasn’t happening yet.”

Linden studied him and clucked his tongue. “She must be a looker.” Tony didn’t respond.

Tony understood his boss’s implications. “Please. I am a professional. Dr. Morales answered my questions and was cooperative. That’s the bottom line.” He sighed and thought carefully about what he was going to say next. He wanted to prove to Linden he hadn’t been blinded by the doctor’s good looks. “I did get the feeling, though, that she could be hiding something.”

“Why do you say that?” Linden He picked up his mug and took a swig.

“Just a hunch, that’s all.”

“Yeah, well, you need to trust hunches. Sometimes gut reactions solve cases. Stay with her a little longer.” He sighed and rubbed his eyes again. “I want an arrest on this, Pazzini. And soon. My oldest kid just got accepted at USF. Place is not cheap. My youngest needs braces, and my wife wants to go on a European vacation. She seems to forget I’m not Donald Trump. And between us, I am ready to retire from this place. But before I do, I need to go out on a high note, if you know what I mean.”

“Right.”

“Get back to me as soon as you have something. I’ll make some calls, see if I can keep the politics at a minimum. You’re working with Simmons on this.”

“What?” Pazzini asked. “You’re kidding, right? You can’t do that to me. Come on…”

“Does it look like I’m kidding? You’re going to need a partner on this one.”

“I do my best work alone.”

“Not this time,” Linden said. “He’s a good cop. He’s a little different, but he’s sharp. You can tolerate his idiosyncrasies.”

Tony rolled his eyes and walked out of the office. “Damn,” he muttered under his breath. He had a front-page homicide with no real leads, and now he had to work side-by-side with the urban cowboy.

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

Upbeat jazz thumped through stereo speakers. Champagne glasses clinked together as more bubbly was poured. Ryan smiled at his wife, Jeanine. She winked back. The Mueller’s annual wine tasting party was in full force.

As much as Ryan hated being away from the kids, wondering what he might come home to, the timing of the party could not have been better. Ever since he’d sent that e-mail, he’d been driving himself insane. The visit from Peter Redding hadn’t helped at all. Ryan had to find a way out. Any way out.

Then yesterday, Jeanine reminded him of the dinner party at the Muellers’ home, and immediately he began to plan. For him to get out, for him to get his family out, would take some organization and risk. But he had no choice. He could not continue with The Brotherhood, with Frauen Pharmaceuticals, and with Peter Redding. He knew if he didn’t get them out, it would only be a matter of time until he and his family wound up like the Petersens. He winced at the thought.

Ryan took another glass of champagne from the caterer and kissed Jeanine on the cheek. She flashed her pretty smile at him, her blue eyes sparkling. “I love you,” he said.

She cocked her head to the side and brushed her blonde hair behind her shoulders. “I love you, too, sweetheart. Might want to slow down on the champagne, though. You’re not exactly great at holding your liquor.”

He waved a hand at her. “I’m fine. I think after working as hard as I do, I deserve a little drink.” He waved the glass in the air, slurred a bit, and spoke more loudly than normal. Ryan was known for being a bit on the quiet side.

“Ryan,” she said, giggling nervously.

“In fact, sweetie, I am going to get another drink.”

“I, uh, I…”

Jeanine’s friend Bärbel approached them. “Everything okay?”

“Just fine,” Ryan answered. He headed to the bar and then to the bathroom where he poured the drink down the drain and sat on the edge of the bathtub. He was tired of this game. And he hoped what he was about to do would work. He hoped Jeanine would believe him and do everything he needed her to do to get them out of this. He took out a card he’d bought at a gift shop earlier that day, and wrote a detailed note inside. He had to be quick, but it was the only safe place he knew he could do this. He was sure they had some kind of surveillance in his car.

Redding may have had cameras installed in his home, but he couldn’t have put them everywhere Ryan and his wife went. Certainly there weren’t any inside the Mueller’s home.

Someone tapped on the bathroom door.

“Just a second,” Ryan said.

He came out of the bathroom and smiled at the woman who walked past him, as he apologized for taking so long. Then he walked over to the bar and got himself another drink. Ryan found Jeanine talking with a small group of friends, laughing and gossiping. He staggered a bit. “Honey, I think maybe we should go,” Jeanine said, as Ryan stumbled into her.

“No, no. I want to take a walk. Let’s go outside and get some air. I love their back yard,” he said, trying to keep just enough drunkenness in his voice.

“Honey, really, you’re tired. We should go.”

“No, Jeanine. Please. Take a walk with me.”

Jeanine glanced at her friends.

“Take him out for some air, darling. We’ll be right here. I can have the caterer brew some coffee. That will help,” Bärbel said.

“Um, okay,” Jeanine replied.

Ryan hooked his arm through hers and said, “That’s my girl.”

They threaded through a group in the family room and out to the back garden where a few people mingled in the crisp night. “Ryan, you are drunk. We need to go,” Jeanine said once they were out of ear-shot.

He took her by both arms, faced her, and looked straight into her eyes. “I am not drunk,” he said, his tone low. “I am stone-cold sober.”

She hesitated. “What? Then what the…”

“Come sit down on the lounge chairs with me. I have something for you that will explain everything. You’re going to think I’m crazy…”

“No kidding. I already do.”

He looked at her again. “Have I ever lied to you?” Of course she did not know their lives were now one big lie, but he was only doing it to protect them.

She shook her head and looked warily at him. “No.”

“I’m not starting now. I am dead serious and we don’t have a lot of time. Trust me. Sit down and act like you’re pleased I gave you this card. Then do everything it says.”

“Ryan?”

He raised his eyebrows.

“Fine.”

They sat down on the edge of the chairs. Ryan put his coat over her shoulders. He handed her the card and watched her expression. She glanced at him a few times, a look of disbelief and dismay on her face. “This can’t be true.”

“It is.” He wasn’t sure she believed him. Not until she slapped him hard across the face, with angry tears in her eyes, in front of everyone at the party.