Justice (21 page)

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Authors: Jennifer Harlow

BOOK: Justice
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She does need to fill out her report as first responder,

Cam says.


Don’t you want to stay with your friend?

Harry asks, emotionless.


Yeah, but he doesn’t want me around right now. Harry,
please
?

He turns back around and sighs. I wait in anticipation for a second before he says,

Fine.


Thank you.

If I can’t stand my first home, then there’s always my second.

***

The squad room is usually quiet on weekends. There’s the odd spousal murder, but regular homicide usually handles those, not Priority Homicide. Today, we’re not so lucky. Phones ring off the hook. Officers race in and out with eyewitnesses and staff from the party last night. I even recognize a few employees of Pendergast, taken away from their restful weekends to be grilled because they knew Justin would be out of town. A harried Shannon has been in and out twice. The poor woman isn’t paid enough to juggle the police and the entire Pendergast Industries. There is a big Christmas bonus in her future.

Me, I spent the first half an hour on my incident report, an hour calming down Uncle Ray, Aunt Emily, and Veronica after burly men with guns showed up at their doors and wouldn’t go away, and then another hour reviewing security footage from the party last night. I’ve started with the entrance to the ballroom where the invitations were checked. Shannon, on her last trip here, brought me a guest list, so if I recognize a person on the tape, I check their name off. Those who got invitations but didn’t show might have given theirs to Ryder. Straw grasping I know, but at this point it’s all I have.

Mirabelle walks in with a cup of coffee for me. People keep bringing me things. Kowalski brought me two donuts. Cam’s wife Tawny came with a hug and cookies. Everyone’s being so nice it’s starting to freak me out.

How’s it going?

Mirabelle asks.

Any luck?


No. How about you guys?


Bubkus, and Harry’s getting reamed a new one by the mayor and commish.


That’s constructive.

I turn back to the screen.

My shadows still out there?

I was here about an hour when two hulking men in dark suits and guns arrived. Justin sent bodyguards to the station. They flanked me at my desk. They followed me into the bathroom, checking the stalls before they’d let me alone. Now, they’re at the door like gargoyles.

They made me show my badge before I could come in. They’re hardcore.


Yeah, I feel safer already.

On the screen Tasha Stone and her girlfriend Melina stroll into the party.


Do you really think he’s going to…you know…


Melt me like cheese? Hell if I know.

Liz Theron and Byron Blake. When did they start dating?


Are you scared?


I’m not an idiot, Mirabelle. I’m scared shitless.

He pats my shoulder.

I’m sorry about your friend. If you need anything…

I squeeze his hand and he smiles down at me.

Thanks. Appreciate it.


We’ll catch him.

He’s the ninth person to say that to me. He walks out, leaving me to my task. My cell phone buzzes with yet another call that I ignore. There’s only one person I want to talk to, and he’s asleep according to Lucy. When it stops, I check the number. I don’t recognize it. I do have twenty messages. The only one I plan to return is Grace’s. She—

Wait. On the screen, a dark haired man the right height and weight walks up to the guards behind Rose and Leo Giffin. As the couple bicker per usual, the man looks up at the camera. My heart clenches in my chest. It’s him. The footage is grainy, but I know it’s him. Especially after the huge grin forms on his face and he waves at the camera. The same wave he gave me the night on the bridge. The Giffins walk in and Ryder lowers his head again, handing an invitation to the guard before stepping into the ballroom.

Motherfucker.

I back-up the DVD and watch it again. After making note of the timestamp, I switch over to the hotel lobby footage five minutes prior to his arrival. Sure enough the same man strides into the lobby from the elevators, under the rope, and toward the ballroom right behind the Giffins. Almost vibrating with excitement, I eject the DVD and rush out of the media room.

My guards, Geoff and Bryan, follow me into the bullpen, scanning the area for potential threats. I give it two more hours before they drive me batshit crazy. Harry’s door is closed and the blinds are drawn, so I knock. That isn’t to say I wait for an invitation.

Harry is behind his desk looking exhausted while Mayor Miracle, Commissioner Craven, and U.S. Marshal Frank Napier wear angry faces. The Marshals have jurisdiction over escaped convicts, but since Justice works for them, they waited until last night to try and kick us off the case. The murders changed things, so we’re now part of a unified Federal task force since the department knows the area and the players. The men’s expressions switch into neutral when I step in.

Sorry to disturb you,

I say.


Det. Fallon,

Commissioner Craven says as he stands. He’s a thin man with thick gray hair, bushy eyebrows, and a scar down his left cheek from his legendary fight with Supernatural twenty years ago.

I’m sorry for your loss.


As am I,

Miracle says.

Terrible tragedy.


How are you doing?

Craven asks.

If one more person asks me this, I’m going to scream.

Fine. Shook up, but fine.


And Justin?

Miracle asks.


Devastated.


Well, will you please tell him that the whole of the force and Marshal Service is doing everything in their power to find Alkaline,

the mayor says. That line must have come straight out of the press release.


I may have found something to help you do that, sirs.

I hand the DVD to Napier.

Ryder was at the engagement party last night. He arrived at 8:12 with an invitation in hand.


Alkaline was at the party last night?

Miracle asks, stunned.


He probably walked right past us both ten times last night,

I say.

The mayor gulps.

I didn’t see him.


It gets better. He was staying at the hotel. There’s footage of him getting off the hotel elevators.

The men perk up. A lead.

Though he seemed to know we’d review the footage, so I doubt he’s still there.


We can cross check the names of guests who checked out last night or today to Ryder’s known aliases,

Napier says.


We already gave that list to every hotel in the city,

Harry says.

He must be using another name.


He smiled at the camera. He wanted us to know he was there,

I say.

We would have found out eventually.


Five other guests have come forward,

Harry says,

to say they saw him, but didn’t believe it was him either.

A tiny weight lifts off my shoulders. I’m not the only one who screwed up.

I didn’t see him,

the mayor says again.


Why risk it?

Napier asks.


Ultimate taunt,

I say.

‘I was right under your noses. I drank the same champagne as the detective on my case and the mayor, and I got away.’


Let’s just hope his narcissism is his downfall,

Craven says.

Our people are already at the hotel interviewing staff from last night. I’ll have them get the list and pull the security tapes since Alkaline escaped. See if he met with anyone.

Napier holds up the DVD.

I’ll get this over to our lab for enhancement.


I haven’t finished going through it. I don’t know what time he left.


We’ll take care of it,

Napier says. He stands up and walks out with the stunned mayor behind him. Probably cycling through the excuses to use when the news breaks.

Craven smiles down at me.

Good work, Detective.


I was just doing what Lt. O’Hara told me to.


Then good work to you both. Let me know if you need anything else.


Thank you, sir,

I say.

Craven nods at Harry.

O’Hara.


Commissioner.

Craven walks out, closing the door behind himself. Harry sits back with a sigh.

Thank you.


For what?


Coming when you did. I think I was about five seconds from being demoted to parking enforcement. I have the distinct feeling I’m being prepared as the department scapegoat for this mess.


Sorry.


There’s a psychopath killing children out there. The city’s in an uproar and terrified, but all they’re worried about is looking bad at a press conference.

Harry sighs.

Politics.


If things get too bad you can tie me to the sacrificial altar. I am the one who let him walk right past me twice.


Well, you aren’t the only one. Half the city was there last night, including our vigilant mayor. No, your involvement is being kept on the Q.T. Strict orders from Craven.


Why?

He looks away.

Didn’t ask.

Liar.

They also don’t want you anywhere near the case anymore. They’re right. We can’t give Ryder’s future lawyer any ammunition for impropriety. Craven had to use every inch of his clout to keep us involved at all. So, as of right now, you’re on paid vacation. I shouldn’t have let you come in the first place.


For how long?


Until Craven says so. I tried to get you temporarily transferred to another squad, but he wouldn’t go for it. You’re too high-profile right now, and your guards don’t help matters.


So, I’m being punished for my friend getting killed?


Jo, you have a target on your back. What the hell do you expect us to do?

I have no idea. If I was in his position, I’d do the same thing.

I’m sorry. Look, we’ll re-evaluate in a week, okay?


Fine,

I say quietly.

He rises from the chair.

I have to go back to the scene. I’ll drive you to the mansion, okay? Police escort so your friend doesn’t kill me.

We both know that’s not the real reason, but I hold my tongue. Even after all the horrible things I said, he’s still worried about me. It makes me want to cry.

Mirabelle,

he says as we walk out,

I’m dropping Jo off and heading to the scene. You’re in charge until Cam returns.

Geoff rides in the backseat of Harry’s sedan with Bryan following close behind in their black BMW. Nobody talks except when Harry asks if I’d like to swing by my apartment to pick up a few things. I hadn’t even thought of that. I just have the clothes on my back. Some reporters lie in wait, and for the first time I’m glad for the guards. They push them aside like gnats. This gratitude lasts all of a minute. With guns drawn, Bryan checks my apartment for bogies before Geoff lets me go in. Lets me.
Into my own fucking apartment.
The coil inside me tightens almost to the breaking point.


Can you guys wait outside while I get ready?

I ask.


We’re not supposed to—


I don’t want you in here!

I shout.

Harry touches my back.

Guys, wait out here. We’ll only be a few minutes.

Him they listen to. They even let him shut the door without protest as I walk into my bedroom. Had I known I would have company I would have cleaned up at least the bra and panties on the floor. For some reason my hands shake as I pick up the strewn clothes from last night. That feels like a decade ago. Harry waits in the doorway, just watching me.

Those guys are driving me batshit already.


They’re just doing their jobs, and they seem good at it.

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