Christmas Cover-Up (8 page)

Jordan pocketed the money and walked over to her. “See anything?”

“No. I don’t see him, but he’s watching.”

“All right then, let’s go find him.”

EIGHT

K
atie set her small bag of borrowed clothes on the sofa. She looked around. “It’s a nice room.”

A small suite, it had a mini kitchen that opened into a sitting area complete with a full-size couch and a flat-screen television. The work area was next to the sliding glass doors that led to a small balcony. A king-size bed and bathroom in a separate room rounded out the suite.

Jordan went through it as though he thought her attacker would be waiting. He’d retrieved her weapon and the comforting weight of it at the small of her back allowed her to breathe a little easier. Using the shoulder holster was out of the question with her injury.

She glanced at the clock on the microwave. Twelve forty-five. It felt like it should be a.m., not p.m.

“Cort will be watching your room tonight,” Jordan said as he walked back into the main living area. “He feels guilty for letting that guy get so close to you.”

“It wasn’t his fault.”

“He doesn’t feel that way.”

“I really don’t think there was anything he could have done differently.”

“That’s what I keep telling him.” His phone rang. “Hello?”

Katie placed the rescued file on the desk and started pulling the papers out one at a time as she listened to his side of the conversation.

“Thanks, Max.” Jordan hung up. “Max said he parked your car four doors down from your room.”

“Good.”

“He also said he doesn’t think he was followed, but can’t vouch for that a hundred percent.”

“I trust him.”

“But you’ll still give the car the once-over before you get in it, right?”

She lifted a brow. “Of course.” Katie turned her attention back to the papers. “They’re dry now. Might be a little hard to read, but...”

“You really don’t need the file at this point, do you?”

He took a seat at the table.

She shrugged. “No. The only thing I didn’t have memorized was your notes, but I read them.”

“I’ve got copies.” He paused. “I’m sorry about my parents.”

Pain darted through her. She met his gaze for a brief moment, then dropped her eyes to the file. “You don’t have to apologize for them. They’re entitled to their pain.”

“But they’re not entitled to lash out at you.”

“They have to have someone to blame. I suppose I’m the best choice for that. I arrested their son and he died.” She paused then asked, “Do they even acknowledge the fact that he was drinking and driving?”

“No. They’re convinced it was all just a mistake, a misunderstanding.” She stared at him and he shrugged with a sad frown. “They’re not in touch with reality when it comes to Neil’s death.”

“Have you tried to tell them?”

He gave her a shuttered look. “I’ve tried. A little.”

She gave a trembling sigh. “Why don’t you feel the same as your parents?”

He flushed and shook his head. “I did for a while. But working with you, even in a limited capacity, on Molly James’s kidnapping transformed my opinion of you. I realized for the first time that you weren’t some egotistical cop who had something to prove by teaching a drunk kid a lesson. You can’t predict the future. You put a drunk man in a cell with other drunks. It happens every day. It’s what cops do.”

“I know, I just wish...” she rasped. Emotion choked her almost as much as the smoke she’d inhaled. She cleared her throat and stood, walked to the window and placed herself to the side so she could see out, but anyone watching wouldn’t be able to see her. The parking lot was half full. No one loitering in the shadows that she could tell.

“And—”

When he broke off, she looked at him. “And?”

“And there’s stuff about Neil they don’t know.” He glanced away, then back. “Stuff I haven’t told them.”

She lifted a brow. “Like what?”

“It doesn’t matter at this point. Suffice it to say I’m not sure I’m doing them a favor and am praying about it.”

Completely baffled, she stared at him. He shook his head. “Never mind.”

Okay, then. When—if—he decided to share with her whatever he was talking about, she’d listen. Until then... Katie asked, “What about this neighbor, Mrs. McKinney? I talked to her twice but didn’t get much.”

At first he didn’t answer and she wondered if he was ready to change the subject. She let out a small breath of relief when he did. Talking about Neil and his parents caused a hard knot to form in her stomach. She needed to talk about something different. He finally said, “She’d brought her husband home from the doctor about three hours after Lucy disappeared. When they got home, they saw all the commotion, but no one really talked to them because they weren’t there when it happened. I thought about going to see her.” He shrugged. “And while I doubt she can tell us anything, I don’t want to leave any stone unturned.”

She nodded. “First I have a stop to make.”

“Where to?”

“I want to go see Frank and ask him a couple of questions. He told me to come see him at four, but I’m going to see if he’ll be willing to just talk to me if I walk in. If he’s there.”

“Ah.” He pursed his lips and looked like he might argue the wisdom of that. Instead, he stood and she followed him down the steps to his car. “I’m going to hunt down Tracy, too, and see if she’s got a composite of our shooter.”

As she slid into the passenger seat, she supposed she ought to get her own vehicle. In fact she was quite surprised at her rather passive agreement in letting him be her chauffeur. The truth was, she liked the man. Liked being with him, liked his sense of humor, liked bouncing the case off of him and getting his feedback.

And that worried her. Jordan was very easy to be around, but somewhere in his eyes, there was a pain that never really went away. She wondered about it. Wondered if he’d ever share it with her.

Then wondered why she wanted him to. They had no future together. His parents had already lost one son because of her. There was no way she’d cause them any more pain by falling in love with the other.

“You okay?”

He pulled her out of her disturbing thoughts and she nodded, turning to stare out the window. “Just thinking.”

“Yeah. I know what you mean.”

Her phone rang. Gregory. “Hey.”

“Hey. I tracked the money that landed in West’s account.”

“Great. Where’d it come from?”

“It was a cash deposit, so I don’t have a name, just a video snapshot of the guy who made the deposit. Trying to get a name to match the face.”

“Send the face to Jordan’s phone. He can use his resources with the FBI and put their facial recognition software to good use.”

Jordan nodded. Within seconds, his phone dinged and he pulled over to shoot the email to his buddy at the FBI. Katie hung up with Gregory feeling like they were making baby steps, but at least they weren’t going backward.

The rest of the drive to the station didn’t take long. Jordan drove with practiced ease while Katie kept her gaze glued to the mirrors.

“You see anyone that makes you twitchy?”

“No. Not yet.”

“Me, either.”

“Doesn’t mean he’s not there,” she muttered.

“Yeah.”

He pulled into the parking lot, and Katie stared at the building that had become her second home. “Should have just brought a sleeping bag and slept in my office.”

He laughed. “Might be the safest place in the city for you.”

She shook her head and climbed out of the vehicle. Katie led the way into the station, eyes scanning the familiar area. Fellow officers called out well wishes and a few even offered hugs. Jordan tapped her arm. “I’m going to be in the evidence room. I want to take a look at the original file on Lucy again.”

“There’s nothing in it that you haven’t seen. I copied everything.”

He shrugged. “You’re probably right, but I just want to take a look.”

“Sure.” Katie passed her desk and went straight to Frank’s.

He looked up and jerked in surprise. “Hey, I didn’t expect to see you.”

“We had a four o’clock appointment, remember?”

“Yes, of course. I just figured after last night...” He shrugged. “Glad you’re okay.” He glanced at his watch. “It’s not four.”

“I know.” She smiled. “Do you have few minutes? I’ve got some other things I need to do. I’m not planning on coming back here after I leave, so I would appreciate it if you’d just talk to me now.”

“You still want to go over your sister’s case?”

“If you don’t mind. I have a question or two I still need answered.”

He sighed. “Have a seat.”

Katie sat and reached in her bag to pull out Lucy’s file. She opened it on the desk in front of her and turned it so it was right side up for Frank. She pointed to the small slip of paper with the diner’s address. “Jordan and I went here yesterday and talked to the owner. It’s also where we were shot at.”

Frank frowned at her. “You’ve had a rough couple of days.”

“I have, but that’s not important right now. I talked to Betty June Clark, and she said she remembers the case. And the two detectives who worked it.”

“Really?” He leaned back and crossed his arms. Then sat forward. “Wait a minute, I remember her. Pretty blonde?”

“Yes.”

He nodded. “She thought the kidnapper had come in with Lucy and eaten there. Called us to check it out.”

“Right.”

“At the time, there were no surveillance cameras working. The place was pretty run-down. We talked to her and the other workers, but came up with pretty much nothing.”

“What about the hair in the bathroom?”

“What hair?”

Impatience licked at her. “Betty said the girl had chopped hair and she found hair around the toilet in the men’s bathroom. Said she told you and Danny Jackson about it.”

“Yes, I remember something about that, but if I remember correctly, it had already been cleaned up by the time we got in there.” He rubbed his eyes. “Come on, Katie, it’s been fourteen years. I haven’t looked at that case since we filed it with cold cases.” He spread his hands, palms up, in a helpless gesture. “I can’t remember everything.”

She held her temper in check. He was right. It had been a long time. “Then maybe you remember this. Why wasn’t your visit there documented in the folder?”

He frowned. “It was. Both Danny and I filled out reports.”

She tapped the file. “Nothing but that little scrap of paper with the address.”

He sighed and rubbed his eyes. “I don’t know, Katie, you know how it is. You have ten cases going at the same time and sometimes things might...” He trailed off.

“Slip through the cracks?” she asked softly, her tone deadly.

“No, no, not that, just—you’re talking fourteen years ago.”

She got up before she said something she shouldn’t.

“Katie, stop. Come on. I didn’t mean we didn’t do our jobs. We did. We wrote the reports. I don’t know why they’re not in the file.”

She kept her back to him and took a deep breath. “If you remember, give me a call, will you?”

“Of course.”

“Thanks.” She started to leave then turned back. “Have you seen Tracy?”

“Uh...yeah. She was near the break room right before you came over.”

She left, the file clutched tight, thankful it hadn’t been destroyed in the fire.

Katie had another idea. She found Jordan in the break room studying the file. “Find anything?”

“Nothing really. You?”

She shook her head and took a deep breath. “I’ve had this feeling before, but today sealed it.”

“What feeling?”

“That the investigation was botched. Whatever word you want to use, Frank Miller and Danny Jackson did my sister and my family an injustice.”

He frowned. “What did he say about the diner?”

She told him. “I want to go talk to his former partner, Danny Jackson.”

“He’s on my list, but I haven’t talked to him yet.”

“I talked to him briefly about a year ago, but he was more interested in his golfing handicap than he was in rehashing a cold case.”

“That’s unusual. Most retired guys relish talking about their cases.”

“Yeah, the cases they’ve solved. Not the ones that got away.”

“True.” He closed the file. “You were right. You copied every last teeny, tiny piece of information in this file, didn’t you?”

“I did.”

He stood. “Let me put this back and we can go.”

“I’m going to see if I can find Tracy.” She told him where the woman’s office was.

He said, “I’ll meet you there.”

Katie left him to return the file and headed down a long hallway and to the second floor. She leaned against the wall to catch her breath and realized her lungs still hadn’t fully recovered from her bout with the fire. The burning in her shoulder was aggravating, but nothing she couldn’t ignore. Once she got her breath, she knocked on the door.

“Come in.”

Katie stepped inside to see Tracy at her desk, phone pressed to her ear. When she saw Katie, she hung up. “I was just dialing your number.” She frowned with concern. “How are you feeling?”

“Like I need an oxygen tank strapped to my back, but other than that, I’m all right.”

“Have you heard anything back about the fire? How it started?”

“A Molotov cocktail through my bedroom window.”

“Ouch.” Her friend winced. “You’ve made someone a little angry?”

“Yeah, a little.”

“Who?”

“I’ve no idea.” She didn’t want to discuss the fire or the fact that someone wanted her dead. “Hey, do you have the composite for the shooter at the diner? Bobby Young is our witness.”

Tracy blinked at her. “No, I don’t have it. He never came in, and he hasn’t answered my calls.”

Unease crawled up Katie’s spine. “What do you mean he never came? He was coming as soon as he could after he got his car towed, got checked out at the hospital and changed his clothes. I think he had some blood on them and wanted to change. You’re saying he didn’t come over?”

“Right. I left a message on your voice mail at home yesterday morning.” She grimaced. “Which means you probably didn’t get it.”

“No. It’s been so crazy, I haven’t even called to check my messages. Why didn’t you leave one on my cell?”

“I started to, but the captain walked in just as I went to voice mail, so I just hung up. I figured you’d get the message at home anyway. Or see my number and call me. Which you did.”