"What's that?" Kirby asked, looking up from where he sat in a corner, thumbing through receipts.
"Nothing," Drake told the officer. He pulled back the book's cover. "Bingo."
Nestled inside the hole carved from the pages of Freud's wisdom were small, silk-covered boxes. They lined up like soldiers on parade, a dozen in all. Calligraphy in a bold hand spelled out names on parchment labels. Some he recognized: Frantz, Cleary, Eades, Kent. Five others interspersed between them that were strangers. Then the box closest to the top: Trevasian.
What really got to Drake were the two boxes still blank. No way this actor would have stopped at twelve. His stomach tightened wondering how many more boxes, how many more young lives would have been filled with the horrors wracked by Mendelsohn's warped mind.
His cell phone trilled, bringing him back from the abyss of a predator and into the present. "Drake."
"You got anything?" Jimmy asked.
"Jackpot. Don't worry, I'll have Kirby bag and tag. As far as Miller or any defense attorney knows, I was never here."
"Good job, but that's not what I'm worried about. Hart's in trouble."
Drake felt his fist tighten around the phone. He threw the study door open and started down the stairs at a gallop. "What happened?"
<><><>
Kwon left to call the hospital. Cassie waited, something she did poorly even in the best of circumstances. But what other choice did she have?
After an hour, she was even tempted to drink the coffee. One sip dissuaded her. She could save it for a suicide attempt. Not funny, but anything to distract her was helpful.
She resumed pacing the tiny room. Then the door opened again. Jimmy Dolan entered.
"Is everything all right? Have you talked to Mickey? Nothing happened to Muriel, did it?" Her questions and anxieties spilled out at the sight of his welcome face.
"Muriel's fine. DJ's over at Three Rivers, reviewing the videotapes from the ER. He said," Jimmy smiled, "not to worry. And that Kwon's bark is worse than her bite."
Cassie couldn't resist, she moved forward and gave the burly detective a quick hug. "Thanks, Jimmy. Maybe we can finally put this mess behind us. I'm so tired."
"I know," he told her. "But it'll all be over soon. It's just that, in this case, what we know and what we can prove are very far apart."
She brightened at the plural pronoun, hoping that it still included her. "So what's our next step?"
"First of all, how about some breakfast? I've got fresh Krispy Kremes."
She followed Jimmy out to the main squad room and grabbed a glazed donut from the green and white box. It vanished in an instant.
"Will you marry me?" she sighed in pleasure, licking the sugar from her lips, leaning back in Drake's chair. Janet Kwon looked up from her desk and shot her a glare. Cassie resisted the urge to wrinkle her nose at the high-strung detective.
"Even if we can prove Virginia Ulrich poisoned Antwan, there's still a few problems we have to contend with." Jimmy took a newspaper from his jacket pocket and slid it over to her. Cassie unfolded it. On the front page was a photo of the police helping her into their car. The headline read:
Local doctor questioned about child's poisoning
.
"Who called the paper?" she asked.
"An anonymous tip." Jimmy told her. "A tip, that according to their records was made almost ten minutes before the initial call to the police from Three Rivers."
"Before?" Cassie looked up. "Virginia Ulrich."
"That'd be my guess," he answered around a mouthful of donut.
"How is your other case?"
"We nailed him–thanks to you, from what I understand. He's cooling his heels, waiting on his lawyer." He jerked his head towards the interview room beside the one Kwon had questioned her in.
"Did he say anything?"
Jimmy rolled his eyes. "Pretended like he has no idea who any of these boys were, asked for a lawyer and clammed up."
"There's something you both should see." Janet Kwon was smiling again.
Jimmy and Cassie moved over to where a small TV sat on an empty desk. The morning local news was playing and Cassie recognized the front steps of Three Rivers. Today they were filled with a group of people protesting something, carrying placards.
"Shit," she heard Jimmy say. Cassie moved closer. One of the signs had her name in a circle with a line drawn through it, another proclaimed: Let Her Baby Go! and there was more of the same. The news commentator was analyzing the outpouring of public sympathy and community support on behalf of Mrs. Virginia Ulrich.
She looked at Jimmy. "I don't believe it."
"Power of the press. If we ever do get this to trial, we're never going to find an impartial jury. Let's just hope that we get some solid evidence to back us."
His phone rang and he moved to snag it. "Hey, DJ," Jimmy said into the phone. He looked over at Cassie and smiled. "Yeah, she's here." He handed her the phone.
Cassie moved around to sit in Jimmy's seat as he lifted a carton of evidence from his desk. "I'm going to get this logged in. Hey Janet, keep an eye on my guy for me, will ya?"
The other detective waved her hand without looking up.
Cassie curled her finger around the phone cord, wishing for more privacy. "How's your mother?"
"Down for another CT," Drake told her. "But Park was by already, said she's doing ‘better than expected'" he mimicked the neurosurgeon's clipped tones. "Says she ought to make a full recovery, probably go home in another day or two."
"That's great." She wanted to ask about the ER videos but was afraid to jinx herself.
"Three Rivers won't release the security tapes without a court order," he told her, and she sighed. More waiting. "I convinced them to dupe me a small segment. Summers is waiting for the court order to bring the original, but I'm on my way back to the House now." He paused.
She edged forward, almost leaving the chair. "Did you find anything?"
His chuckle resonated through the phone line. "Oh yeah, I think you'll find this very interesting."
"You found her?" Cassie felt her body bounce against the chair seat. "You've got Virginia on video taking the lidocaine from the ER?"
"Clear as daylight."
She didn't know what to say. Unable to sit still any longer, she pushed away from the chair and paced around behind it, as far as the phone cord would stretch. Finally solid proof that her instincts about Virginia Ulrich were valid. "Someone's watching Antwan?"
"Yes, and security is on the lookout for Virginia. We'll send some uniforms over to help them after shift change."
She saw Kwon move toward the interview room where Jimmy's prisoner waited for his attorney. The squad room was empty except for them. Kwon looked through the one-way glass of the room then stiffened, hurrying to unlock the door.
"Hart, get over here," she shouted. "He's choking on something!"
Kwon disappeared inside the room as Cassie dropped the phone and moved to join her. She could hear Drake's voice calling her name.
Kwon turned around in the doorway. "Hurry, he's turning colors," she urged, then twisted back inside the room.
When Cassie reached the doorway, Kwon was on the ground face down. A brown-haired man held a gun. He whirled on Cassie.
"Don't move!" he shouted. "Who are you? You a cop?"
Cassie shook her head, her mouth too dry to find the words. The man sprang to his feet, his movements jittery with adrenalin, and grabbed Cassie's arm. "C'mon, we're getting out of here."
He dragged her into the squad room, backing toward the door while he looked around for any resistance. Kwon emerged from the interview room.
"Don't do this, Mendelsohn," she shouted at the man.
"Stop where you are!" His voice was high-pitched, choked with fear. He wrapped his arm around Cassie, using her as a shield, his right hand aiming the gun at her temple. "Keep your hands where I can see them!" He jumped as Kwon slowly brought her hands, palm up, in front of her.
"I'm not going to hurt you," Kwon said in a low voice. "I just want to talk. Your lawyer's on his way–he can straighten this all out. You have to let her go, that's all."
Mendelsohn tapped the gun against Cassie's head. She tried not to flinch as the cold metal touched her flesh. The hand that held the gun shook. Then she realized that his entire body was trembling. She closed her eyes and prayed his trigger finger was steady.
<><><>
Drake held the cell phone clenched close to his ear and steered one-handed. Damn it, what was going on? He heard shouted voices but couldn't make out the words.
He squealed into the Zone Seven parking lot and left the car running as he ran inside.
"What's the hurry, lover boy?" Spanos almost collided with Drake. The uniformed officer was already dressed for his shift.
"Something's wrong in the squad room," Drake told him, yanking open the stairwell door. "Get backup!"
"You don't even have a gun," Spanos reminded him.
"Hart's up there," Drake said by way of explanation. Footsteps pounded behind him. Spanos quickly caught up and passed Drake.
Drake's thigh muscles were screaming at him to slow down, but he stayed on the larger man's heels until they rounded the landing for the third floor. One more flight.
"Quiet now," Drake yanked on Spanos' belt to slow the younger cop down. Spanos nodded his agreement, and they climbed the rest of the way in a slow, silent crouch. Spanos had his gun drawn, aiming it up the stairs to where the unknown subject would have to exit the squad room.
They reached the squad room's open door. Across from them Kwon stood, hands spread wide. In between them a man stood, his back to them, a gun in his right hand. The man turned slightly, and Drake recognized Mendelsohn. But all of his attention was drawn to Hart and the gun pointed at her head.
Spanos held his gun in the regulation two-handed Weaver stance, but his hands trembled. He used one hand to wipe sweat from his eyes and resumed his position. Drake looked over at him and realized that the patrolman had never been in a hostage situation before–probably had never used his gun off the range.
It didn't help knowing that he and Spanos usually tied for the bottom of the rankings every time they had to re-certify. Jimmy and Kwon were the sharpshooters of the House.
"If you shoot me there, I won't be much good to you," Hart told Mendelsohn. Drake couldn't believe how calm she sounded. "I'll be dead and then the police will just kill you."
She turned her head the slightest bit, just enough to make eye contact with the gunman.
Good girl, let him see you as a person
. He wasn't certain if Hart could see him and Spanos, but he knew she was getting ready to do something.
He placed his hand out and after a moment's hesitation, Spanos gave Drake his forty caliber Glock.
"You're right," Mendelsohn said in grudging admiration.
"I want to get out of this alive, just like you," Hart continued as Drake strained to get a clear shot.
He could see why Spanos had hesitated. It was an impossible shot. Drake raised his hand, sighting the gun in line with his gaze, as if it was a brush and the tableau before him was a canvas. Suddenly he saw his shot clear as day. He twisted into position, raised the Glock.
<><><>
"Why don't we work together?" She paused. "My name is Cassie, what's yours?"
"Darin." His eyes darted away from her and back to Kwon. "I told you not to move!" he screamed at Kwon.
Cassie saw that Kwon had edged toward them slightly. She knew the detective would be carrying a backup weapon. Drake usually kept his in an ankle holster when he was on duty–would Kwon do the same? She had to distract him long enough for Kwon to reach it.
"So how about down here?" Mendelsohn asked earnestly, moving his gun to aim at Cassie's belly. "This wouldn't kill you right away, would it?"
If he shot her there, she'd probably end up paralyzed. The muscles and flesh of her abdomen recoiled, pulling away from the gun and the hand that held it there.
"Not right away," she agreed through clenched teeth. His left arm held hers behind her back. Her right arm wasn't as restricted as he squeezed her in an unholy embrace.
"Good," he said, his voice breaking. "Then we're leaving now."
Cassie took a breath in, focusing on his gun hand. Now or never. He took a step back. She plunged all her weight forward, throwing him off balance. She grabbed for the gun hand, twisting it away from her body, leaning forward and sinking her teeth into his wrist. He yanked her left arm, wrenching it until she feared her shoulder would dislocate.
The gun went off, the explosion deafening in Cassie's ears. It was quickly followed by two more shots as she fought free and threw herself to the floor.
The coppery smell of blood and gunpowder rained down on her. She opened her eyes to see Kwon kicking Mendelsohn's gun away, straddling him and snapping on handcuffs. Cassie's ears filled with a deafening roar.
She pushed herself into a sitting position and suddenly Drake's arms were around her and she could breathe again. He turned her towards him, his hands searching her body for damage, his lips moving, but she couldn't hear what he was saying. He gathered her into his arms, holding her tight. His breath was jagged as it vibrated through his chest, and she felt his heart pounding when she lay her head down. After a few moments her hearing began to return, and she could hear him whispering her name.
"I'm fine," she said and realized her voice was too loud. "I'm fine," she tried again, this time there was no answering echo in her ears. She pushed back in his embrace, only enough to turn her head and look over at Mendelsohn.
"Is he? Can I–" She was ashamed that she really didn't want to help the child killer. She swallowed. "Is there anything I can do?"
Kwon rocked back on her heels, allowing Cassie a good look at the killer's body. "Pronounce him," she said with satisfaction. "That was good shooting, DJ."