Killing Hope (Gabe Quinn Thriller) (64 page)

A spotlight hit my face. I squinted at the sudden glare.

Video cameras aimed our way. One or two cameras flashed.

Sonny tapped a microphone, ‘Hope you ladies are here for the bingo,’ she said into the pickup.

A wave of laughter rippled through the room.

180

^{___________________________}

As the killer known worldwide as
The Undertaker
waved farewell to his son and the fifty-bucks-an-hour nanny, he wondered what it would be like to kill someone in his own home. Right here, in the house he shared with his loving wife and their brand new baby. Not just anyone’s life. A police officer’s life. What would that feel like? What would it feel like to kill a cop in his own home?

He continued to grin manically and wave big daddy bye-byes to the shiny red Nissan compact as it climbed up the road and out of sight, forever.

181

^{___________________________}

Yes, the lockdown was lifted. Yes, there had been casualties. Yes, Federal Agents had died both here and in Tennessee. Yes, a suspect had been detained, but was currently on life support. No, we didn’t believe he was the killer.

Five minutes in, I saw Agent Wong enter the room. I had hoped he’d keep a low profile after beating Candlewood senseless. I was wrong. He still wore that annoyingly smarmy face of his as if it was a flag on parade day. He made a beeline for the Sheriff without even glancing once our way.

I watched Wong whisper something in the Sheriff’s ear – a glance in my direction from the Sheriff – then the two of them hurriedly left the room together.

‘… and that’s just about all we have until we get the coroner’s report.’ Sonny said.

‘Detective Quinn?’

I searched the room. My inquisitor was a tall redhead with high cheekbones and piercing green eyes.

‘Carrie Voss, Las Vegas Star.’

‘Yes, Carrie?’

I was halfway through sketching out a brief outline of why we’d seen fit to enforce the lockdown when I saw the Sheriff return. He waved at the pair of lemon-faced Deputies still manning the corner. Pointed in our direction.

‘This looks like fun.’ I heard Sonny comment beneath her breath.

The Sheriff joined his men and all three started to steamroll straight towards us. They looked like bullies spoiling for a fight.

 
‘One moment, Carrie.’ I said, placing a hand over the microphone nest.

The trio climbed onto the podium. The Sheriff wore an uncomfortable frown – like he’d just had a mishap in the restroom and everybody was staring at the damp patch on his crotch.

‘Detective Quinn, please come with me. Inspector Maxwell will take things from here.’

‘Is it Candlewood?’ I asked.

‘Just come with me.’ He said, this time more firmly. ‘You okay with that, Sonny?’

I sensed Sonny’s defenses prickle. ‘Not really. Unless you haven’t noticed, we’re slap bang in the middle of a Press conference. What’s going on?’

‘Just take over the show and I’ll explain later.’ He had his back to the cameras. His tone was brusque. I didn’t like it.

Sonny leaned across the desk. Covered the microphones with a hand. ‘We’re live on air. What the hell is going on?’

The Sheriff gave Sonny a
your job’s on the line if you don’t do as I say right this minute
scowl.

‘It’s all right, Sonny,’ I said, getting to my feet.

The Sheriff leaned into the pickups. ‘Ladies and gentlemen, Senior Inspector Sonny Maxwell will be answering all your questions from here on in. Thank you and have a good day.’

Then, to the rattle of raised whispers, I was escorted out of the room.

182

^{___________________________}

In spite of the judicial system’s claims to the contrary, there is no such thing as innocent until proven guilty. Rightly or wrongly, innocence is never presumed.

‘Detective Gabriel Quinn. You have the right to remain silent. Anything you say can and will be used against you in a court of law.’

We were out in the corridor. A little ways from the room where the Press conference was still being held. Our little group was attracting inquisitive glances from nosy passers-by. I had a Deputy on either shoulder. I could smell their unease. One was reading my rights from a little pocket reminder. It was all bullshit.

I gave the Sheriff a raised eyebrow. ‘Do you mind explaining what this is all about?’

‘You have the right to speak to an attorney.’ The Deputy continued unabated. ‘If you cannot afford an attorney, one will be appointed to you.’

‘Why am I being arrested? Anyone?’

‘Do you understand these rights as they have been read to you?’

‘Sheriff?’

‘Detective, do you understand these rights as they have been read to you?’

I glared at the Deputy. ‘Yes! Dammit! What the hell is going on here?’

‘Please step into the room.’ The Deputy opened up the door to a supply closet.

‘Are you serious?’

Both Deputies placed heels of hands on butts of guns.

‘If you refuse to comply you will be forcibly detained.’

I was incredulous. Scratch that; I was furious. I was being treated like a wayward schoolboy facing detention. The Sheriff was doing everything in his power to avoid my demanding glare. The Deputy shrugged out his handcuffs. I gave him a scowl and backed up into the supply closet. The door closed in my face. I stood there, baffled by the run of events and by the unorthodox procedure. After about a minute, I found a light switch and threw it on.

The room was small, cramped, full of what looked like leftover conventions miscellanea.

I got out my cell and tried Bill’s number. It went straight to voicemail.

I sat on a crate and chewed some cheek.

A minute and twenty questions later, the door burst open and Sonny flew into the room.

I sprang to my feet. It was the first time I’d seen Sonny looking anywhere near shaken and the sight shook me too.

‘Well that was sweet.’ She said as she slammed the door behind her. ‘The shit hit the fan and everyone just got a mouthful.’ She started pacing back and forth – which wasn’t easy, given the confines of the closet.

I grabbed her by the shoulders. Made her look at me.

‘Sonny …’

‘Gabe, this is seriously screwed up.’ She said. I could see she wasn’t bluffing. ‘I mean
seriously
screwed up. From the top all the way down to the bottom.’

‘Sonny … what’s going on?’

She took a deep breath. Composed herself. ‘They sold you down the river. That’s what’s going on.’

‘Who?’

‘Those damn Feds. That’s who! I told you we couldn’t trust them. They look after their own. Always do. And screw everybody else.’

‘Sonny … what’s happened?’

‘Winters came in right after you left. He threw me off the podium and took over the conference.’

‘He did? The son of a bitch. Why?’

‘You remember Stacey Kellerman?’

I nodded. ‘The reporter from Channel Ten News. Has she got something to do with this? What’s she been saying to the Feds? What lies has she been spinning this time?’

‘She went and got herself murdered.’ Sonny said as her gaze leveled with mine. ‘She’s dead, Gabe. And they think you killed her. The Feds think you murdered Stacey Kellerman.’

183

^{___________________________}

When you get to my age you figure you’ve just about heard every line there is to spin. Revelations hardly flummox. Being accused of murder is the exception. My face must have been a real picture. Like Munch’s
Scream,
only less animated.

‘Breathe.’ Sonny said.

I did. But it wasn’t easy; I had fire in my lungs.

‘Stacey Kellerman’s dead?’ I couldn’t believe my own words. ‘But how?’

‘Somebody bludgeoned her to death. The Feds are all over it like a bad dose of the clap.’

‘When did this happen?’

‘No idea. But I’ll find out. Word is, the Feds got an anonymous tipoff sometime in the early hours of the morning.’

‘They did? Why didn’t we hear about it?’

‘The call came through to the Situation Room right before they started closing it down. It got patched through to Wong.’

And Wong wasn’t the sharing type.

‘So while Milk and I were at the hospital …’

‘Wong and his men went to Kellerman’s.’

I made a face. ‘That doesn’t add up, Sonny. Why would the Feds go running to Stacey’s place on the back of an anonymous tip off? That’s police business.
Your
business. You should have got the call.’

‘Unless he thought it related directly to our case.’

‘Which would mean the tipster had inside information.’ I turned up my lip. My
Uh-Oh Radar
was pinging noisily. ‘Have we any idea what this tipster said?’

‘No. But if it came through the nine-one-one network we can retrieve the call log.’

‘Do it.’ I shook my head. Trying to force the revelation through my thick skull. ‘And you say she was bludgeoned to death?’

‘Gabe, I know what you’re thinking. I’m thinking the same thing too. It doesn’t fit with his MO. It’s probably unrelated. Nothing to do with our case.’

You know me and coincidences.