The Promised One (The Turning Stone Chronicles) (22 page)

Chapter 36

Gladys approached Rhys the minute he walked in the precinct door. “You’re going to want to know what I found,” she said. “Is Jordan here?”

“Nope. Just me.” No need to mention his estrangement with Alexi until he had a good excuse.

Gladys hooked her arm in his and dragged him toward her cubicle. “Good. I like it that way, sugar.”

He let her lead him into her workspace. She shoved a chair in front of her computer and motioned for him to sit.

“Remember that street cam video we had of Fabio carrying the jewelry heist bag on the Pawling case?”

“Yeah.”

“Well, he’s innocent. He’s got witnesses that put him in Europe, just like I said.”

“You brought me in to tell me that?”

“Course not, sugar.” She swiveled her computer monitor around so he had a better view. “I’ve got another suspect.” She typed something on the keyboard and a street cam video opened on the screen. “I was checking other street cameras in the area and I found this.”

He moved closer and squinted to catch the details. A man, with a limp and a salt-and-pepper beard, strolled down the street carrying the same discount mart bag Fabio and Pawling had carried. The suspect opened a sedan parked on the street, pitched in the bag, and drove away. “Did you get—”

Gladys slipped a note with a license plate number written on it across her desk. “Course I did. Not that it did much good. It’s a stolen vehicle.”

“When did you discover this?”

“This morning. I just got the vehicle information. Haven’t got an ID on the man, but I’ve got someone working on it.”

“Does Williams know?”

“I wanted to tell you first, sugar.” She gave him a smile meant to beguile. It was creepy coming from someone old enough to be his mother. “You want to tell him?”

“No, you can. I’m going to let Alexi know. And, Gladys.”

“Yes, sugar?”

“Thanks. You may have solved this case.”

“Anything for you.”

He headed out of the office. Good thing he hadn’t asked Williams for a new partner yet. In spite of what just happened, there was no way he could keep this one from Alexi.

Three different guys carrying the same bag, appearing within seconds of each other, and two with rock solid alibis. He’d bet his deer stand this was the man who’d stolen Baron’s ring. The shifter Alexi was after.

Fate was conspiring against him. He didn’t like it one bit. Alexi had better warn him if she planned to go supernatural again.

“Rhys.” Alexi’s breath caught as she opened the door. “I didn’t expect you.”
Did he want to get back together?
Hope soared. “Did you forget something?”

He stood awkwardly on the front stoop, tension lines creasing his forehead. “Can I come in? I’ve got some news better discussed in private.”

She swung the front door open. “I’ve got coffee on. Want some?”

“Sure.” He headed toward the kitchen and came to an abrupt halt when he neared the doorway. “You’ve got company.”

She came alongside him. “Eli, would you mind giving us some privacy?”

“Of course, lassie.” Eli stood and picked up his tea cup.

“Sit down, old man. You probably need to hear this too.”

That didn’t sound good. What could Rhys want to say that Eli needed to hear?
She slipped past Rhys and opened the cabinet, rummaging around for a clean mug. Searching for something more generic and less full of memories, she slid the “Best Cop” mug aside and took out a plain jade green mug. She filled it, handed it to Rhys, then took her seat and cradled her mug of coffee in her hands. The warm ceramic heated fingers that had suddenly gone cold.

Rhys rested his hip against the countertop, took a sip of coffee, and then set his cup down. “Remember the street video we have on the Pawling case?”

“Yeah.”

“Gladys uncovered something new.”

“Besides proof of Fabio’s innocence?”

His right cheek popped out, a sure sign he tongued the inside of his mouth. She gripped her mug tighter. He never did that unless he had something really important to say.

“What is it, Rhys?”

“I . . . we might have a video of the real guy who did the Pawling job . . . and I think he might be the one you’ve been searching for.”

Her mug clattered to the table, splashing coffee across the surface. Eli righted the mug and stemmed the flow with a napkin.

“Baron’s killer?” she croaked, anxiety tightening her throat.

“I don’t know . . . not for certain, but he had a salt-and-pepper beard like Baron’s and he was carrying the same bag as Pawling and Fabio. Three guys on camera within seconds of each other, two with airtight alibis. If nothing else, I figure he’s a shifter, like you.”

“His eyes, what color were his eyes?”

“It’s a black-and-white video, but they were real light. If I had to guess, I’d say blue. He got in a car and drove off.”

“License number?”

“Stolen vehicle. Gladys is trying to get facial recognition on him. See if he’s in the system.”

“Does Williams know?”

“Gladys is telling him. I came straight over here. Thought you needed to know.”

“Thanks. So, are you going to keep feeding me info even though we aren’t partners now?”

“I didn’t get a chance to let Williams know we’re through.”

Her heart leap. “Have you—”

He cut her off with a shake of his head. “No, nothing is different, but this is still our case. Getting new partners, especially with fresh evidence, could cause questions. I’ll see it through, on one condition.”

“What?”

“No shifting without warning me.”

“Okay.”

“And, Lexi, this is the last thing we’ll do as partners.”

She nodded. Her head knew he would stand firm on his decision, but her heart hoped she could convince him—somehow—to join her in her—no, their—destiny.

His cell phone rang, and he scooped it out of the holder. “Temple. Hey, Gladys, you got something?”

Alexi’s stomach flipped over like a looping rollercoaster. Were they really going to catch Baron’s killer? They.
She hadn’t planned on Rhys being involved. Hoped, but not planned.

She watched Rhys nod with each bit of information Gladys gave him, anticipation lighting his face like she’d seen so many times when they were closing in on a suspect.

But this wasn’t just any suspect. He was a shifter who possessed something very important—Baron’s ring. Bringing him down could get very dangerous, especially if Sylvia had the same information they did.

I should just make Rhys give me the info and finish the job by myself. On the other hand, knowing he has my back . . .
She sat back in her chair and crossed her arms over her stomach, pressing to stop the quivering muscles. Why did everything have to be so difficult?

Rhys removed his notebook and pen from his shirt pocket and scribbled something. “Thanks, Gladys. We owe you.” He punched the phone off and slid it back into the holder.

She tried to get the notebook, but Rhys held it away. “Do we have him?” she asked.

“Maybe. Gladys matched the basic facial structure to a petty thief named Shaw.”

“A positive match?”

“Hard to say. He’s twenty years older now and has been clean ever since he got off parole fifteen years ago.”

“Address?”

“It’s a DMV address. Four years old.”

“That’s more than I’ve had to go on so far.” She scraped her chair back from the table and stood. “I’ll get my gun.”

Eli stood, too. “I’ll get my sword.”

“Don’t think so, old man. This is police business.”

“Sounds tae me like Turning Stone business, laddie.”

The two men glared at each other. The space between them wavered like heat off a pavement on a scorching summer day.

“Knock it off, both of you,” she commanded. “We’re all going. I need Eli’s shifter skills and Rhys’ gun.”

Eli backed down, a smile tickling the corners of his mouth. “Guid,” he whispered. “A Promised One needs tae take control.”

Rhys glared at her. “We’re a team, Alexi. No one takes control.”

“
Were
a team, Rhys. You’re asking for a new partner.”

“Not until this case is closed. Until then, we’ll back each other up like we’ve always done.”

Eli’s smile broadened and Alexi could almost hear his thoughts.
He canna let ye go, lassie.

Or were they her thoughts? Either way, she liked them. “Who’ll back Eli?”

“I dinna need no backing, lassie. I got tae this ripe old age on my own.” He grinned mischievously at her. “I’ll back up the laddie.”

No one answered the door at Shaw’s second-floor apartment, not that Rhys expected it. If Shaw were inside he probably wouldn’t open the door to three strangers. He put his ear to the door listening for sounds. Nothing.

“Guess we’ll wait,” he said as he relaxed against the doorframe.

“Move aside, laddie.” Eli dug into the inside pocket of his flowing trench coat and retrieved a small leather case. When he didn’t move, Eli nudged him aside and unzipped the case.

“Whoa,” Rhys exclaimed. “We’re not going to pick the lock.”

“Yer right, laddie.
I’m
gonna pick it.” Eli pulled a thin instrument from the case and inserted it into the lock.

Before he could get the pick Eli had the door unlocked and opened. Eli entered the apartment, followed by Alexi.

Rhys stopped her as she passed. “What are you doing? You could lose your badge for this.”

She shrugged him off. “If Eli’s right about my destiny, I’ll have to quit the force anyway.”

He hadn’t expected that answer. He’d thought she’d report to the precinct every day like she had for the last two years.

Stupid thought. Why would she come in day after day and watch you walk out with another partner?

Stepping through the doorway, she said over her shoulder, “If you’re worried, stay out here and keep watch.”

Like hell I will.
He followed her. “Can’t watch your back if it’s not in sight.”

Sparse furnishings decorated the apartment: a worn recliner, an old television on a sagging coffee table, and a scratched 1950’s chrome kitchen table that must have come from a thrift store.

“If he’s the one doing the robberies, he’s not spending the money here,” Rhys said.

“Mayhap he’s fencing the stuff and putting the money intae an account,” Eli suggested.

Alexi snapped on a pair of latex rubber gloves and started rifling through a stack of papers on the table. “Or he’s not our perp.”

“Got another pair?” From her back pocket, she pulled out a couple of pairs, tossing one set to him and the other to Eli. She came prepared to break in. Law-breaking Alexi.
He didn’t know she had it in her.

“What are we looking for?” Eli asked.

“Proof this is Shaw’s place to start with.”

He held up a ripped envelope. “Got it.” He read the envelope’s address. “Mr. Danny Shaw, 19 Maple Brook, Apt. 14.” He shoved the envelope back between the couch cushions.

“What next, lassie?”

“Jewelry. The discount mart bag—”

“A boatload of cash,” Rhys added.

“Or . . .” She held out a scrap of paper. “The name of a well-known fence.”

He crossed the room, peered over her shoulder, and read the name scrawled on it. Rocco Lorenzo only dealt in high-end stuff. The kind like the jewelry store lost in the Pawling theft. He moved his merchandise quickly—too quickly to get caught. “This is a dead end. Burglary has been trying to pin something on Rocco for years.”

She dropped the paper into a plastic baggie. “Don’t look a gift horse in the mouth, Rhys. I’ve been running into dead ends so much that I’ll take anything I can get.” She mussed the pile of papers she’d been rummaging through until they appeared as if they hadn’t been touched. “I’m going to check the bedroom.”

She no sooner left the room, when the apartment door creaked opened. He whirled toward the sound.

“Shit,” a man yelled. “What the hell are you doing?” He didn’t wait for an answer, but bolted back out the door.

Rhys charged after him, chasing him down the hallway. The man disappeared as he rounded the corner. Rhys careened after him, crashing into a door that flew open in front of him. A blonde stuck her head out from behind the door.

“What’s going on?” she asked, her blue eyes round with fear.

Rhys reeled from the impact. “Police,” he shouted. “Get out of the way!” She banged the door shut. Regaining his balance, he took off down the hall, jumping down the steps three at a time, running out through the front door. But he’d lost him.

A tall muscular fellow, straining his jersey sweats to their limit, came out of the building as Rhys reentered. As he started climbing the stairs, Eli and Alexi appeared at the top.

“Was it him?” Alexi asked.

“Yeah. But I lost him when some blonde opened her apartment door in my face.” He rubbed the throbbing place on his cheek.

“Blue-eyed?” Eli asked.

Rhys thought about it for a minute. “Yeah. Platinum blonde.”

“What apartment?” Alexi asked.

“Second floor. At the corner.” He climbed the stairs and they went down the hall toward Shaw’s apartment. When they rounded the corner, Rhys stopped and stared. The door that had smashed his face didn’t have an apartment number. Puzzled, he opened it. The distinctive odor of trash floated out.