The Heart of A Killer (28 page)

“Yeah.”

“Did someone at school deal?”

“I don’t know. I didn’t do drugs.”

Anna gave Evan a sidelong look. “You know, considering you’ve been in and out of jail for the past twelve years, and all of them on drug and theft charges, I’m going to have a hard time believing that answer, Evan. Want to try again?”

“Okay, maybe I did party a little. But I wasn’t dealing.”

“I’m not accusing you of being his dealer. I’m also not trying to pin anything on you. What I need is to figure out who Tony’s source was back then.”

“Why?”

“You don’t need to know the answer to that,” she said. “But I’d sure appreciate the help.”

She could see the wheels turning in Evan’s mind.

“Yeah? What could I get for this information?”

“Nothing. Other than me not coming back here every day to hassle you.”

His face fell. “Oh.”

“You either know the answer to the question or you don’t. If you do, I’ll keep coming back here, or bring you down to the station, until I get the answer I’m looking for. It’d be a lot easier to get it now. Then I leave and you don’t see me anymore. Trust me, you don’t want me getting familiar with you and what you do in your leisure time.”

“I don’t remember his name,” Evan said in a hurry. “He was a college student though, some guy who graduated from our high school a few years ahead of us. All the kids used him.”

“Do you know what college he went to?”

“Wash U. He was a med school student there.” Evan grinned. “I think he was paying his way through medical school by dealing at some of the high schools.”

It shouldn’t take much investigating to figure out who the guy was.

“Thanks, Evan.”

For the first time since this whole nightmare began, Anna had a speck of hope. She climbed into her car and headed out.

When she pulled onto the street, she noticed another car pulling out from the curb, going in the same direction as her. Normally she wouldn’t think that strange—probably someone who lived in the area, except when she turned north, so did the car. When she changed lanes, so did the car behind her.

To test her theory, she made a right turn at the next stoplight.

As did the car behind her.

She kept her movements normal, didn’t speed up or slow down or appear to be looking in her rearview mirror. She wanted to make sure she wasn’t simply being paranoid.

Damn Roman and Dante for putting those kinds of thoughts in her head, but it wouldn’t hurt to be careful.

It was a greenish-colored Jeep, older model, kind of beat up. She wasn’t going to call it in until she knew for sure, because if she did and it turned out to be nothing she’d be ribbed for being paranoid.

Then again, there was a killer on the loose, and she was a possible target. She probably wasn’t being paranoid enough.

She made another turn, this time right again, doubling back to where she’d started out.

The car, which had managed to stay within a few cars of her, made the right turn again.

She turned left next time onto Arsenal and headed west.

He followed.

At the first street she could she turned into Tower Grove Park, figuring if this was coincidence he’d go straight.

The two cars between them passed, and he turned into the park.

She pulled over. So did he.

Heart pumping, she called it in, including his tag number, then got out of her car, her hand on her gun.

He was already getting out of his car. When she recognized him, her heart rate sped up.

“Stay in your vehicle.”

“I need to talk to you.”

“Get back in your car, goddammit.”

He kept coming toward her. Why the hell was Sam Maclin following her?

“Sam, get in your car or I’m arresting you.”

He stopped, held his hands up. “For what? For wanting to talk to you? For asking you why you came to my house to harass my mother?”

“Turn around and put your hands on the hood of your car.”

“Jesus Christ.”

He laid his hands on the hood of the car. She came up behind him and kicked his legs apart, grabbed a wrist and slapped handcuffs on it, then the other. Then she turned him around to face her.

He was just as angry now as he had been when she and Dante had come to see him and his mother.

“Why are you following me?”

“To tell you to back the hell off my mother.”

“You could have handled that with a phone call.”

He smirked at her. The bastard. “It’s more effective in person.”

“Is that a threat?”

“I’m not threatening anyone. You upset my mother by dredging up Tony’s murder. She’s not sleeping again, taken to wandering the house at night. Leave it alone.”

She studied him. “Any particular reason you want me to leave it alone?”

Could he be the one leaving notes on her car? Could he be the killer?

“Yeah. I just told you. It upsets my mother. When she’s upset she can’t paint.”

She stepped closer. “How long have you been following me?”

“I came to the station to talk to you, saw you leave, decided to follow.”

“Uh-huh. Like I said, a phone call would have been easier.”

“And like I said, it’s not as effective. Figured I could talk you out of reopening my brother’s case if I talked to you in person. A phone call just wouldn’t do it.”

He had attitude coming out his ears, and a demeanor she just didn’t like. “You’re a real smart-ass, Maclin.”

A black-and-white screamed into the park and slid to a stop in front of them.

Sam caught sight of the squad car and shot a glare at her. “Great. So now you’re going to arrest me for what? For wanting to talk to you about my mom and my brother?”

“There are friendlier ways to have done it, Sam. And you were the one harassing me. You don’t follow a police officer.”

“You want us to take care of this creep?” one of the uniforms asked.

She studied Sam. He had no fear in his eyes as he glowered at her, ignoring the uniforms. If he’d exhibited even one ounce of fear, she’d have let him go with a warning. But without that, he freaked her out.

Killers showed no fear.

“Take him in,” she said, grabbing his arm and handing him over to Lincoln.

“You’ll be sorry,” Sam said as the officer took him away.

She ignored him and slid back in her car, then headed toward the precinct.

Dante was already back at the station when she arrived. She grabbed a cup of coffee and sat at her desk.

“My guy didn’t pan out,” Dante said. “He was like a saint, so squeaky-clean I felt dirty interviewing him.”

Anna nodded. “Well, I guess that’s too bad.”

“What did you find?”

“Cat pee, stale cigarettes and unbathed old lady.”

Dante made a sour face. “Fun. Did you get anything out of it other than that?”

“I did,” she said, and gave him a rundown of what Amarola had told her.

Dante nodded. “That’s a solid lead. Now we need to find Dr. Drug Dealer.”

“Yeah. Also, I was followed on the way back.”

“What?” Dante sat up in the chair. “By who?”

“Sam Maclin.”

Dante’s eyes narrowed. “Son of a bitch. You grab him?”

She took a sip of her coffee and nodded. “He’s in holding.”

Dante stood. “I want to talk to him.”

She grabbed his arm. “Not right now. I want him to cool his heels for a while. He’s got an attitude.”

She knew that wasn’t Dante’s first choice, and from the look on his face it was probably a good idea not to let him anywhere near Sam at all.

“What did he say to you?”

“To back off his mother and the reopening of the investigation.”

“Huh. He couldn’t have called you?”

Funny that they were on the same wavelength. “That’s the same question I asked him.”

Dante stared at the back of the precinct toward the holding cells. “Is he worried about his mother or himself?”

“That’s what I’m wondering. You think he was in the alley that night?”

“It’s possible. He was fifteen at the time. File says he was at home. And he sometimes ran with the same crowd as Tony.”

“Guess we should check that out.”

“Check what out?” Roman asked as he came in. “Did you get a lead?”

“Yes, and that isn’t what we’re talking about.” Anna filled him in on what she found out from Evan Amarola, and what happened with Sam.

“He tailed you? That’s suspicious as hell, especially after the roses and cards. We need to figure out where he was the nights of the murders.”

“I’m going to go talk to him,” she said, grabbing her notebook and a pen.

“I’ll do some backtracking on his whereabouts the nights of the murders,” Roman said.

“His mother isn’t going to like that.”

“And?” Dante asked. “You’re not trying to be her friend. You’re trying to solve a case.”

She stopped, realized what she’d been doing. Her first thought was how this would affect Susan Maclin because she’d already lost one son. What was she thinking?

She had no objectivity here. She lifted her gaze to Dante. “You’re right.”

Roman laid a hand on her arm. “You interview Sam first, see what you can get from him about the nights of the murders. We’ll go from there. I’ll do the background on him.”

“Okay.”

They called for Sam to be brought into an interrogation room. He didn’t look any less subdued after spending some time in holding. In fact, he looked more pissed off than ever, and focused his glare on Anna.

“He’s got a bug up his ass about you,” Dante whispered as they entered the room.

“So I noticed.” She and Dante took a seat across from Sam.

“You’ve been read your rights and you understand those rights?” Anna asked.

“Yeah.”

“I understand you waived your right to have an attorney present for questioning?”

He shrugged. “I didn’t do anything wrong. What do I need a lawyer for?”

“We need to know your whereabouts on the nights of June twenty-third and June twenty-seventh.”

“Why?”

“Do you know where you were those nights?”

He shrugged. “Probably in my studio working on some art.”

“Do you know that for a fact?”

“No, but that’s usually where I am. I’m working on a project, so I’ve been spending a lot of time in there. Why?”

“Two people were killed in the same alley your brother was killed in.”

“Huh. So?”

Wasn’t he a real bleeding heart. “They were beaten to death, just like Tony.”

He leaned back in his chair. “Again. So? What does this have to do with my brother?”

“That’s what we’d like to know,” Dante said.

He shrugged again, refusing to look at Dante and keeping his gaze focused only on Anna. “People get killed all the time, especially in the city.”

“That’s hardly a high-crime area,” Anna said. “And to be beaten severely in the same manner as your brother, in the same location, isn’t a coincidence.”

A flicker of interest lit in his eyes. He sat straighter in the chair. “So you’re saying whoever did these murders is the same person who killed Tony?”

“I’m not saying that.”

“So what am I doing here, and why are you talking to me about it?”

She let the question linger in the air, until recognition dawned in his eyes.

“Are you fucking kidding me? I had nothing to do with those murders. I was working at the time.”

“Can anyone verify that?” she asked.

“Yeah. My mother.”

“Someone other than a family member?” Dante added.

He rolled his eyes. “The studio is at the house. So no, no one else but her.”

“That’s too bad,” Anna said, feeling a small twinge of guilt for going after yet another member of the Maclin family. Then again, he’d come after her today, and in doing so put himself on her radar. He had no one to blame but himself.

“You’ve put yourself in a bad position, Maclin,” Dante said. He stood and walked around the table to Sam’s side, then stared down at him. “You harassed and threatened the detective here, and you have a connection to a prior crime in the alley with a similar method of death.”

“What connection? Because he was my brother?”

“Because you can’t verify your whereabouts on the night your brother was murdered, and now these murders. Doesn’t look good for you.”

Now the venom in his eyes was directed at Dante. “This is bullshit. You’re trying to railroad me because you don’t have any other suspects.”

“And you’re trying to deflect because you killed the two men. Maybe you even had something to do with your own brother’s death that night twelve years ago.”

Sam shot out of the chair and lunged at Dante. “You’re full of shit!”

Two uniformed officers hustled into the room to subdue Sam, cuffing him and slamming him into the chair.

Dante hadn’t even flinched, hadn’t moved from his spot against the desk. He just smiled at Sam as he was restrained.

Sam glared at Dante, then at Anna. “I want a lawyer.”

And just like that, the interview was over.

“Sure,” she said.

She and Dante left the interview room and met up with Roman in the hall.

“That was interesting,” Roman said, coming in from the viewing area. “He’s hiding something.”

Dante shrugged. “Maybe not. I was baiting him. It could be he was pissed off at the implication that he had something to do with his brother’s death, which we all know he didn’t.”

Anna nodded as they headed down the hall back to the main squad room. “But he might have had something to do with the current murders.”

She stopped. They were alone in the hall, so she lifted her gaze to Dante and Roman. “If he did, he’s cagey. Doesn’t appear to act as if he recognizes us.”

“A good killer wouldn’t,” Roman said. “He’s not going to play his hand.”

She let out a sigh. “We’ll see how this plays out.”

“Let the guilt go,” Dante said as they moved back to the desk. “You want this case over with. If Sam’s your guy, it’s over.”

“And Susan Maclin would lose another son.”

“Neither of which would be your fault.”

She threw the notepad on her desk, irritated at herself for the knot in her stomach.

Dante was right. This wasn’t her fault.

“You need to focus on something else,” he said. “Let’s find that medical student and work the drug-dealer angle.”