Random Victim (17 page)

He knocked lightly on the door frame before stepping into her room. She was in the bed closest to the door with the back angled
up so she could watch the small TV. Her blond hair was spread over the pillow, and she had a large gauze bandage around her
left arm from the wrist to the elbow. A greenish-blue hospital gown and the bedsheets covered the rest of her, but the taut
lines of her superb figure were easily discernible.

That Rory’s a lucky guy, thought Leal.

Hart looked over and smiled as he came in.

“How you doing, kid?” Leal asked, holding the bouquet behind his back and the bag with the underwear and clothes out in front.
“I brought you some clean clothes.”

“Oh, thanks, Sarge, but Rory already brought me some things. He just left. I called him after I realized they took my underwear.”

“Yeah, I bumped into him downstairs,” Leal said, thinking, Rory knows her sizes, huh? “Anyway, I had the nurse check your
sizes last night and write them down. I didn’t look.”

“Like you’d really want to, huh? I’ll bet that stuff was terrible. They said I bled like a stuffed pig.”

“You,” Leal said, bringing the flowers out from behind his back, “could never be a pig.”

“Oh, thank you, they’re so pretty,” she said, grabbing the flowers and smelling the fragrance. She winced slightly as she
tried to move her left arm. “Still a little sore. Can you put them in the water pitcher? They told me I could take that.”

“Sure,” Leal said. “You ready to leave?”

“Am I ever. I just have to wait for the doctor to release me. Shouldn’t be too much longer.”

“How come Rory didn’t wait?” Leal asked, sticking the bouquet into the plastic pitcher. “He got pretty emotional downstairs.”

“He did?”

“Yeah, I sensed he really cares about you.”

“We’ve been friends for a long time.”

“I think it’s more than that,” Leal said. “I wouldn’t be surprised if this doesn’t cause him to pop the question.”

“What? Rory?” she said, smiling. “I don’t think so.”

“Trust me,” Leal said. “I’ve got a feeling about these things. It’s a knack.”

“Your knack’s a bit off in this case.”

“I don’t think so,” Leal teased. “I’m seldom wrong about reading people.”

“You are in this case,” she said. Then, lowering her voice to a whisper, “He’s gay. And he has a partner.”

“Him? With those arms? I was worried he’d break me in half downstairs if he found out I was bringing you underwear.”

“I’m not sure he would have approved,” she said. “But for purely professional reasons. He thinks you and I are having an affair,
and that it’s messing up my training. It was all I could do to convince him you weren’t interested in getting into my pants.”

Leal felt his mouth drop open and he couldn’t think of anything to say. The thoughts of what it might be like “getting into
her pants” flashed through his mind, and so did a picture of Rory. He tried to blank out both images. Fortunately the doctor
saved him from having to speak, and he went down the hall to the nurse’s station for a cup of coffee. When he came back, the
doctor was just leaving.

“Are you a relative?” the doctor asked, pausing.

“Her partner.”

The other man nodded. “Well, she’s getting dressed now. See to it that she rests for a day or two. I don’t want those stitches
to get popped loose.”

Leal said he would, and knocked on the door again. Hart pulled open the curtain and told him she was going to need one of
the female nurses to help her get dressed.

“Okay, I’ll get one,” Leal said. He paused. “So what did the doc say?”

“That I’ll have to stay out of the sun for at least a year, and hold off on my workouts until the cuts heal,” she said. “But
since I’m in such great shape, it shouldn’t take too long.”

“That’s good, right?”

He saw her bite her lower lip.

“What?” he asked.

“I’m worried about the scars,” she said. A couple of tears rolled down her face and she quickly wiped them away.

“Can I have a hug?”

“Hey, sure,” he said, moving forward because it seemed like the natural thing to do, but it felt like he was holding a greyhound.
She was all solid muscle on top of muscle, and suddenly his hands were moving over the bare skin of her back. He immediately
stopped to move away, but didn’t. She made no move, either. “You’re pretty fair-skinned, and everybody knows that fair-skinned
people don’t scar much.” He patted her back lightly and she seemed to relax a bit. As they parted he suddenly dreaded having
to tell her about Bobbi’s deal on the way home. How’s she gonna react to that? “Don’t worry, you’ll still be gorgeous.”

“Oh, Sarge, you’re such a shmoozer.”

“I think it’s about time you started calling me Frank,” he said. We’ll see about the other on the ride home.

CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

The Games People Play

The sunlight streamed in through the windows of Brice’s office as he leaned back in his chair and ran a hand over his oily
hair.

“Okay, we went over everything with the state’s attorney this morning,” he said. “Here’s our game plan.”

Leal, Ryan, and Smith leaned forward attentively.

“Nobody’s seen Martin Walker for two days. He ain’t been at work, and he’s not answering his phone at home. I got a surveillance
team on both places, the house and the River North apartment he was renting. In addition, his picture’s on the Chicago Daily
Bulletin under a pick-up order, and we got a type-three message in LEADS.”

Ryan took out his pack of cigarettes and held them up.

“You mind, boss?”

Brice waved his hand nonchalantly, and patted his own pocket for a cigar. He bit off the end and spat it into the wastebasket.
Leaning forward, he held the end of the cigar into the flame of Ryan’s lighter and puffed a few times before continuing.

“This morning we get those warrants all squared away,” he said. “After we get ’em set, we hit the apartment first, then his
house, then the office. We’re going step by step on this one building our case. You see anything suspicious in either location,
anything relating to the Miriam Walker homicide, we’re gonna have evidence technicians with us to process.” He blew out a
cloud of smoke.

Leal pushed back in his chair and away from Ryan as well, thinking, It’s a good thing Ollie isn’t here.

“In the meantime,” Brice continued, “if Walker gets picked up, we’ll let him sweat it out.”

“What if he lawyers up?” Leal asked.

“What if he does?” Brice said, grinning. “We’ll just tell him we’ll put him in a bullpen with a bunch of guys named Bubba.
Then we can spring the real kinky shit on him during the interview. He’ll crack.” He pointed the two fingers holding the cigar
at Leal. “How’s Hart doing?”

“She’s all right,” Leal said. His thoughts drifted back to the quiet car ride when he told her how the deal with Bobbi had
played out. The silent tears splashing down her face, her not wanting him to see, and him not wanting to let her know he saw
them. Her stoic attitude to go along with the deal for “the sake of the investigation.” Man, she had grit, he thought. “She
just needs some rest.”

Brice nodded. “Yeah, tell her to take a couple of days off. Undersheriff Lucas is already talking about presenting her with
some kind of award. Maybe even the Medal of Valor.” He paused to draw on the cigar again.

“The Medal of Valor?” Ryan said. “Christ, all she did was get herself cut up.”

“Hey,” Leal said, “you weren’t there.”

“Take it easy, you two.” Brice clasped his hands behind his head and leaned back, the embers of the cigar glowing. “Maybe
the award isn’t totally called for in this case, but it is an election year.”

“And this’ll score with the female voters,” Ryan said. He smirked.

Leal was boiling, but decided to keep his mouth shut. As far as he was concerned, Hart deserved the medal. He remembered how,
cut and bleeding, she’d still managed to snare Bobbi’s foot and trip him after the pervert had delivered the ball-busting
kick. Probably saved me from getting my throat slashed, he thought.

“So, anyway, that’s our game plan,” Brice said. “Any questions?”

“What about getting a subpoena for a credit check and his phone records?” Leal asked. He gave a quick surreptitious wink to
Smith. “Maybe see if he’s been using his credit cards, too. If he’s on the lam, he’s got to be leaving a trail.”

“Good idea,” Brice said. He brought the cigar away from his mouth and exhaled a large cloud of smoke. “Yeah, that’s a real
good idea about the credit cards. Find out all his recent transactions.” He tapped some ash into the tray, and leaned forward,
placing his hands on his desk. “I know this has been a difficult case, a cold case, but you’ve all done a good job. I’m proud
of you. So now we can afford to coast a little today, take our time doing the subpoenas and getting the warrants prepared.”

Huh? Leal thought. Now was the time to kick it in gear. To really push it.

Brice grinned. “We also got to come up with a plausible explanation of why it’s taken so long to crack this one. In case the
press demands it.”

Just tell them you were in charge of the investigation, Leal thought. He smiled.

Brice glared at him, as if reading Leal’s thoughts.

“Something funny, Leal?”

“Nope, just considering plausible explanations, Lieu,” Leal said. At this stage of the game, he didn’t want to risk locking
horns with the lieutenant and get kicked off. Not when they were this close to clearing a major case.

“I’m pulling Murphy out of investigations to replace Hart,” Brice said. “He’ll be available to give you a hand.”

“Hey, wait a minute,” Leal said. “I think Hart deserves to be in on this.”

Brice shook his head. “She’s out on sick leave, remember? Everything can’t come to a stop while we wait for her to get better.
Plus Murph worked the case before, and he’s familiar with it. I think he’s a good choice.”

Yeah, he worked it before and fucked it up, Leal thought. He knew there was no way he was going to let Hart get excluded from
this one. Not after all she’d been through.

“Anyway, that’s my decision, and it’s not open to debate.” Brice continued staring at Leal for a few more seconds, then got
up and went to the window. “Great looking day, ain’t it? Pretty soon it’ll be hunting season.” He raised an imaginary shotgun
toward the sky and made a sound mimicking a gunshot. Leal rolled his eyes and saw Ryan’s face contorting to stifle a laugh.
Quickly averting his eyes from Ryan, so as not to break out laughing, Leal focused on the family picture on Brice’s desk.
The blond woman and Brice flanked by two boys who looked like scaled-down versions of their father: bull-faced, thick-necked,
and stocky. The picture was obviously several years old, judging from the clothes and Brice’s face, and Leal wondered which
kid it was causing the problems now. The younger of the two had on a pair of thick glasses that made his eyes seem unusually
large. Too bad they didn’t have the kid take them off for the picture, he thought.

“Okay,” Brice said, turning. “Get to work putting the finishing touches on everything. I want a thorough search at each place,
especially for drugs, in view of what that pervert told us. What’s the story with him, anyway?”

“They’re handling the bond hearing this morning,” Ryan said. “The state’s attorney’s gonna ask for a high bond so we can keep
the asshole on ice at the jail without a chance for an I-Bond in case we need him. We can send Hart down to the grand jury
and get an indictment before the prelim.” He laughed. “The sorry fucker’s already gloating over the plea bargain agreement
we handed him. Wait till he finds out they’re violating his probation. He’ll be keeping them standing in line in the jail.”

“Just wait till he gets to Stateville,” Leal said.

“Yeah,” Ryan said. “He’ll really get it in the end there.”

Brice laughed, too. Leal took a deep breath.

“One other thing’s bothering me, Lieu,” he said. “Martin Walker seemed to have a solid alibi for the night of the murder.
That means he didn’t act alone.”

“We don’t really know that,” Brice said. “Plus, that’s the purpose of sweating him once we get him into an interrogation setting.
He’ll crack. Maybe we’ll ask him to take a polygraph test.”

Yeah, right, Leal thought. But he had to admit that he was optimistic about breaking Walker in an interview. And he wanted
to get the chance.

“We got him by the balls,” Brice said, holding up his big hand and flexing it. “Soon as we get him, we start squeezing. He’ll
flip and spill his guts.”

“Think we’ll be able to find him?” Smith asked.

“He’ll turn up sooner or later,” Brice said. “Just a matter of time. Anyway, the prick ran, and that shows his guilt. We had
a high-profile case, and we got it solved for all practical purposes, at a crucial time. That’s what really counts.”

“Maybe we’ll all get on
Most Wanted
,” Ryan said.

“There’s another thing,” Leal said. “Where was Walker getting his dope from? That person might be involved.”

Brice shook his head. “You’re not working MEG anymore, Leal. Forget about the small stuff. This is the big leagues now. A
whole different ball game.”

Leal stifled his response, figuring again, it was better to keep his mouth shut than to risk getting tossed off over some
bullshit argument.

“Okay,” Brice said. “You guys know what you have to do. Let’s get to it.”

“So how do your buddies feel about you sneaking off to have lunch with me while they do all the work?” Sharon asked, sipping
her iced tea.

“It’s about time they did some of the work.” Leal grinned. “Actually, Ryan encouraged me to come here. He’s having someone
type everything up, and I told him Smith already did the credit check, so he could walk him through it.”

“Really? What did he say to that? Ryan hates blacks, right?”

Leal nodded. “He said, ‘You know, maybe I was wrong about him.’ ” Leal shook his head. “I said, ‘Maybe you were wrong about
a lot of things.’ ”

Sharon smiled.

“Well, I’m just glad you’re going through the proper procedures this time,” she said. “Just in case I end up in private practice
and have to defend Walker.”

“You wouldn’t do that, would you?” He was being playful.

Sharon sort of half smiled, then set her drink down. The waitress came by and asked if everything was all right.

“Yeah,” Leal said, but he was suddenly sensing that everything wasn’t. I don’t like the way she’s looking at me, he thought.
When they were alone again, he asked, “What’s up?”

Sharon reached over and touched his hand, her eyes staring at the tabletop. “Something came up. A real good opportunity for
me. In private practice. Big prestigious law firm, lots of money. But…” She sighed. “It’s in New York.”

“New York?”

“Yeah. I have an interview there tomorrow.” She looked at him. “Feinstein and Royale.”

“Huh?”

“That’s the name of the firm. Feinstein and Royale.”

“Oh.” It was all he could think of to say.

“My ex-supervisor, Steve Megally, he’s a friend of Mr. Feinstein’s son. He set up the interview for me.”

“Sounds pretty important,” Leal said. On the inside he was doing his best to hold that churning feeling in his stomach in
check.

She rubbed her fingers over his hand. “So I just wanted to tell you. I’m not sure what’s going to happen, and…” The sentence
trailed off.

He tried to smile.

“I mean, it’s double what I’m making here, and the opportunity is so good,” she said. “On the other hand, I do like being
a prosecutor, and I might even have a chance at a judgeship, somewhere down the road. And things have been nice with us, too.”
Her fingertips traced over his hand again. “You’re not saying anything. Talk to me. Tell me what you think.”

“It sounds,” he said slowly, “like a great opportunity.” Leal was still feeling the pinch way down in his gut. Why is it as
soon as I meet somebody really special, he thought, they end up getting taken away from me? “As far as us, I like you a lot,
but I don’t want to stand in your way. We haven’t got any strings on each other. But I would miss you if you left.”

She squeezed his hand.

“What time are you leaving?” he asked.

“This afternoon. I want to get there early so I’m fresh for the interview in the morning. New York’s an hour ahead of us.”

He looked at his watch.

“You need a ride to the airport?”

“No,” she said. “My sister’s taking me. But maybe I’ll call you for a ride when I get back. I’ll be there tonight and Friday.
Coming back Saturday night.”

Leal made an attempt at a smile.

“Well, I guess I should say good luck, then.” And goodbye, too, he thought.