You Can't Hide (10 page)

The voice came without warning, had him shooting to his feet, opening his eyes to Tess Ciccotelli who stood at the corner of his desk, a look of thoughtful concern on her face. The pulse that had started to quiet took a racing leap and for a moment all he could hear was his own blood pounding in his ears. But the pounding subsided as he looked her up and down. She was professionally dressed today, a tan coat draped over her arm. The tight jeans and red leather jacket were gone, replaced with a conservative, tailored look, charcoal slacks and jacket. Her hair no longer curled wildly. She’d somehow straightened it and pul ed it back at her nape, leaving a few wisps to soften her face. Her makeup was more subtle. Gone was the bright red lipstick. Her only color today was provided by a red silk scarf, lightly tied around her neck. Her stiletto-heeled boots were now sensible flat loafers, polished to a gleaming shine. She looked liked a cover model for Businesswoman of the Year and had he not seen the gypsy yesterday, he’d never have believed such a transformation was possible. Still, conservative or not, cold bitch or not, suspect… or not, she made his mouth water. Which meant she was a dangerous woman, one to watch. Never to touch. No matter who her allies were. He brought his eyes back up to meet hers. “Dr. Ciccotel i. I didn’t hear the elevator bell.”

37

Karen Rose

[Suspense 5]

You Can't Hide

She’d borne his scrutiny without protest. “That’s because I took the stairs. Detective Reagan, I’m sorry to disturb you this early,” she said quietly. “I’ve got rounds this morning, but I wanted to drop this off for you first. I wasn’t going to come up, but the desk sergeant said you were in and sent me up.” One shoulder lifted, her expression gone wry. “I guess he hadn’t heard the news.”

He gestured to the chair next to his desk. “Would you like some coffee?”

“From your pot?” One corner of her mouth twitched and he found himself charmed and trying very hard not to be. “Now you’re trying to poison me. No, thank you, Detective.” Sobering, she pul ed a manila envelope from her briefcase. “I spent the evening transcribing my last five sessions with Cynthia Adams. I thought maybe they might provide some… insight as you investigate Cynthia’s death.”

It wasn’t what he’d expected her to say. Still, he took the envelope, shook its contents onto his desk. A stack of neatly printed pages fell out, along with five cassette tapes. “You tape your sessions?”

“Not all of them. Only certain clients, and only with their permission.”

“Cynthia Adams gave her permission, then?”

“Not at first, no. When we first started meeting, Cynthia was in denial about the more deviant aspects of her behavior. She’d tell me about her episodes.”

“Her affairs.”

“Her one-night stands,” she corrected. “Then the next session, she would deny she’d said any such thing. I persuaded her to allow me to tape our conversations so she could hear what I heard.” A shadow passed over Ciccotelli’s face. “She was… devastated. But it ultimately helped us focus on the real problems.”

She was not what he expected at all. Although Kristen, he supposed, would not be surprised. Nor would Murphy or Spinnelli. “You mean her depression.”

“Yes. She needed to get that under control, because it influenced all her other behaviors.”

“Like her attempted suicide a year ago.”

“And her sexual paraphilia-her addiction,” she clarified. “It was a compulsion for Cynthia. Possibly a way to control men and her own body at the same time.”

“Because her father abused her.”

“Yes. She rarely brought home the same man twice, even if they begged.”

Aidan picked up the sheaf of papers and started to skim. “Who begged?”

“A few. I highlighted the names I knew had become persistent, but Cynthia never gave me last names. Half the time I think she made up the first names.”

“Then how do you know she was telling the truth at all?”

Ciccotelli sighed. She looked weary. “One of her medications causes possible liver toxicity, so she had to have regular blood tests. She came back negative for liver damage, but positive for gonorrhea, contracted from one of these one-night stands. Passed it on to God knows how many more. By law I had to report her to the health department. I spoke with a Miss Tuttle, Cynthia’s case worker. We agreed I’d tell Cynthia about the STD and that I’d reported her.” She drew a breath, let it out. “Cynthia was explosively angry that day. I’d violated her privacy. She ranted that she’d lose her job at the brokerage. It was our second to last session. She swore she’d never come back.”

“But you had one more session, so she did.”

“She did. She’d woken up with a man she didn’t remember picking up.”

“She didn’t control that man.”

“Exactly. It scared her enough to come back. I changed her medication and she was supposed to come back a week later for a recheck. She didn’t show up.”

“That’s when you went to her apartment.”

“Yes, but she either wasn’t home or wouldn’t answer.” She narrowed her eyes slightly. “My fingerprints would be on her doorbell. Possibly on the outside frame, but I didn’t even touch the doorknob that night, Detective. I brought a col eague with me, just in case there was an issue.”

38

Karen Rose

[Suspense 5]

You Can't Hide

So she’d said yesterday in Interview. “Do you normally do that? Bring a col eague.”

“Yes. Always. I bring a col eague, or I don’t go.” She closed her eyes. “Except for Saturday night. No one I usually call was available.”

He took out his notepad. “Who did you call last night, Doctor?”

She opened her eyes. “I first called Harrison Ernst, my partner, but he wasn’t home. Then I called Jonathan Carter, but he wasn’t home either. He’s a surgeon at County. He won’t want to talk to you. He’s a good friend and a bit angry about all this.”

Aidan wrote down the man’s name, ignoring the twinge of jealousy that pricked his gut. So she was through with Murphy and now involved with this Carter. Not that it mattered. Right.

“Tell me about the phone call you got Saturday night.”

“It came in at 12:06. I checked my caller ID last night, but it listed the number as unknown. You can check my home phone records if you like. It sounded like a cell phone, a little scratchy. The caller was a woman, young.”

“How young?”

“Not a teenager, but not middle-aged, I didn’t think. She didn’t give her name, just said she was one of Cynthia Adams’s neighbors and that I needed to come because Cynthia was standing on her ledge, threatening to jump.”

Aidan frowned at his notes. “She said Adams was threatening to jump?”

“I think those were her exact words, yes. Why?”

“Because I have witnesses that say she didn’t talk to anyone. She just walked up to the edge of the balcony, turned around, and fell.”

Ciccotelli’s face tightened, almost imperceptibly. If he hadn’t been looking for it, he would have missed it. He hadn’t been looking for it Saturday night. He’d been too angry for too many reasons and assumed that her expressionless face spoke her mind. He should have known better than to take anyone at face value. Hell, he did know better. Still, there was physical evidence.

“How do you think your fingerprints got in her apartment, Doctor?”

She slowly shook her head. “I don’t know. I have wracked my brain, trying to figure it out.”

She glanced down at her watch. “I have to make my rounds now, Detective. Here’s my card. I wrote my cell number on the back, but I won’t have it with me while I do rounds. If you need to talk further today, my secretary wil be able to reach me.” She stood up, pul ed a little at the scarf around her neck. She hesitated, then caught his eyes once more. “I didn’t mean to look at your desk, Detective Reagan, but I did see the ME report you were reading when I came in. On the little boy.”

His eyes narrowed. He could feel the blood heating his cheeks. “It wasn’t your business, Doctor. It’s still not.”

“I know. I just wanted to say… I’m sorry. You see a great deal in your job. I imagine it leaves you angry when you might not want to be.”

She was absolving
him
of responsibility. How ironic. “You see a lot, too.”

Her smile was both self-deprecating and sad. “Not the same. Not little kids. I tried to work with the abused kids once, when I first started out. I couldn’t.” She tilted her head, her regard steady. “That surprises you.”

That he was so transparent was more than a little annoying. “A little, yeah.”

“You don’t trust psychiatrists.”

“You have your function, Doctor, and I have mine.”

Her lips curved. “Meaning, go treat the sick people, but stay out of my head. Fair enough, Detective.” She pul ed on her coat while he watched, his fingers itching to assist, his brain telling him to stay back. “I’l be in touch if I remember anything new. You’l let me know if my fingerprints turn up anywhere else?”

He smiled in spite of himself. “I will. Thanks for coming in. And… my sister-in-law sends her regards.”

39

Karen Rose

[Suspense 5]

You Can't Hide

She nodded. “Kristen is a good friend. Tell her I said right back at her.” She started for the open doorway leading to the stairs and stopped. Murphy stood there, his hands in his pockets, his brows crunched together.

“Tess. I didn’t expect to see you here.”

“I didn’t intend to come up.” She edged past him and Murphy turned with her, gripping her arm, his eyes intense.

“I’m sorry, Tess. I should have never even considered it.”

Even from across the room Aidan could feel the chill as her eyes shuttered and her voice stilled. Once again he could see the woman who’d sat in the courtroom, pronouncing the words that set a kil er free. Careful y she rotated her arm, pul ing free of Murphy’s grip. “No, you really shouldn’t have. I’ve dropped off some reading material. Have a good day, Todd.” Then she was gone, leaving Murphy’s hand outstretched, his face grim.

Turning on his heel, Murphy dropped in his chair and stared at his desk for a minute before seeing the ME’s report on little Danny Morris. He swal owed hard. “Fuck. That’s just a fuckin’

perfect way to start the day.”

Aidan got them both coffee, perching on the edge of Murphy’s desk, which butted up against his own. “Murphy, tell me what happened between you and Ciccotelli. Kristen says you know something about an attack last year.”

Murphy cradled his cup in his hands. “It’s cold out there.”

“It was cold in here a few minutes ago.”

Murphy grunted. “Fuck that, too.” But he blew out a breath and settled deep into his chair.

“About two weeks after Green’s day in court Tess was asked to evaluate another suspect.”

“This must have been before she lost her contract with the city.”

Murphy looked up sharply. “Yeah, before then. This guy she was supposed to evaluate was a bad actor, murdered his landlady and her bedridden husband. He claimed to be schizo, but the SA thought he’d just been high. His lawyer was going for the insanity defense. Really big guy.”

Murphy went quiet for a moment then shook his head. “They brought him in wearing shackles, hands and feet. Tess sat as far away from him as she could. Guy was my col ar, so I was sitting on the other side of the glass with the SA-Patrick Hurst. But there was a guard in the room with her. Guard gave Tess a look.” Murphy looked away, his lips twisting in a grimace. “Slimy bastard. Like he hated her, you know?”

“Yeah. I know.” And felt some shame because he did. “What did the suspect do?”

“Bided his time, then lunged over the table, grabbed her.” He set his coffee on the table. “Got the wrist shackle chain around her throat and threatened to break her neck.”

Aidan winced. “What did the guard do?”

Murphy tucked his tongue in his cheek. “After a half beat, he jumped in, but the big guy had Tess. I was in there in less than fifteen seconds but he’d already hurt her. Spun her around and slammed her head into the concrete wall, then held her there, choking her. I’l never forget the look in her eyes. She thought she would die that day.”

“You pul ed the guy off her?”

“Me, the SA, and two guards. She was passed out by then. He broke her arm and fractured her skul . She has a scar around her neck from the chain.”

Aidan thought about the colorful scarf she’d tied around her neck that morning and understood. He thought about a murderer’s hands around her throat and was coldly furious. “So you went and sat with her at the hospital.”

“Yeah. I called her brother for her. He was on the plane from Philadelphia that night. I went back the next day to see how she was doing and we started talking. She couldn’t talk, actually. She had to write on a notepad because he’d damaged her voice. But after a few days she could talk.” His mouth bent up. “She reminded me of my little sister, sassy as hell. And we became…

friends.”

“Does she stil ?”

40

Karen Rose

[Suspense 5]

You Can't Hide

Murphy’s brows lifted. “What? Remind me of my sister? Yes.” He sat back in his chair, thoughtful y studying Aidan’s face. “Does she remind you of your sister, Aidan?”

Aidan considered lying, decided against it. “No.”

Murphy laughed softly. “Well, I’ll be damned.”

“Mention it again and you will be.”

“Why? She didn’t do this, and you know it. We’l clear her and then you’l be clear.”

“Doesn’t matter, Murphy.” Because women like Tess Ciccotelli were extremely high maintenance. Aidan reached backward and grabbed a sheet from his printer. “These are al the florist shops within a five-mile radius of Cynthia Adams’s apartment. I thought we could find out if anybody’s been buying lots of lilies lately.”

“Give me half the list.” Murphy waited until Aidan was sitting back behind his own desk before adding, “She’s unattached.”

Aidan paused midway through dialing his first number. “What?”

“She’s unattached. Was engaged, now she’s not.”

Leave it alone, Reagan,
his sensible brain warned. The stupid brain did not concur. Shifting in his chair, he glared across the desk at Murphy who was ignoring him, having already dialed the first number on his list. Aroused and pissed off about it, Aidan made it through calls to five different florists, then smacked the receiver down. “Why?”