The Wharf (9 page)

Forty-five minutes later, Ryan took a big bite of his burger and mopped the grease from his chin as he watched Kacie stab an anemic piece of lettuce. “You sure do like your rabbit food.”

“Some of us—” she waved her fork at him “—don’t have time to spend hours in the gym or whatever you do to maintain that hard body.”

She noticed? Did she take him for a gym rat, flexing in front of a mirror? “I have to stay physically fit for my job.”

“Well, I don’t.” She added a tomato to the forkful of lettuce and popped it into her mouth.

“You don’t need to be physically fit. You’re physically fine.” He didn’t need a woman pumping iron alongside him. He preferred the contrast of a soft body next to his, and Kacie Manning had the kind of body a man could sink into.

Her cheeks reddened to match the tomatoes on her plate.

“Are you going to follow up on that woman?”

“Yeah, I’ll make a few calls, but they probably have her on a fifty-one-fifty hold. Maybe they can get her back on her meds and back on her feet, if that’s what drove her to the bridge.”

“It happens a lot, doesn’t it? People jumping from the bridge?”

“About two or three times a month. And more attempts from people crying out for help.”

“Like today. I don’t think she was really going to jump. Do you?”

“I have no idea. I’d think if you’re going to do it, you just do it, instead of hanging out on the ledge. I saw her slide over, and I thought she was gone, but she was crouched on the ledge.”

“Exactly—it was a cry for help and you were there.” She pushed back her chair and reached for her purse. “I’m going to use the ladies’ room before we leave.” She thumped her wallet on the table and slipped it open to a row of cards. She selected one and placed it on the table. “Use this for the check.”

When she disappeared around the corner, he grabbed her card. He could at least pay for one of these meals.

He flipped open her wallet and it fell open to a plastic insert of pictures. A pretty young woman with coppery hair smiled at him from the plastic sheath.

He hunched over and studied the picture. The woman, with her voluptuous figure and full lips, resembled Kacie a lot more than the Nordic-looking family on her laptop.

A hand reached over his shoulder and smacked down on the wallet.

“What are you doing?”

He glanced up to meet Kacie’s flashing brown eyes, their gold flecks throwing off sparks.

He held up his hands. “I’m not stealing your cash. Just the opposite. I was putting your card away. This lunch is on me for a change.”

Her nostrils flared as she swept the wallet from the table and dropped it into her purse. “I told you. These meals are tax write-offs.”

“Who’s the woman in the picture? The one in the green dress?” He handed his credit card to the waiter.

“She’s, uh, my grandmother when she was a young woman.”

“I thought so.”

Her eyebrows jumped. “You did?”

“I mean, not your grandmother, but I figured she was a relative. You look like her.”

“She was my father’s mother. She died young.”

“Pretty lady.”

“Thank you.” She gulped the rest of her water and smiled brightly. “Ready to head to the station?”

Thirty minutes later, Ryan led the way into the hubbub of the big-city squad room. His brother had tried to lure him there a few times with job offers, but Ryan had preferred the peace and quiet of Crestview.

He stopped by Lieutenant Healy’s office first. They shook hands and he introduced him to Kacie.

Healy’s eyes lit up, but Ryan couldn’t tell if it was from the way Kacie filled out her jeans or because he recognized the name.

“Kacie Manning—I enjoyed your book. Loved how you nailed that SOB Walker to the wall.”

Okay, so maybe Ryan was the only one with impure thoughts about Kacie.

Kacie and the lieutenant shook hands. “I’m glad you appreciated that. Walker sure didn’t.”

“I got the lowdown from Curtis on that parolee’s murder. We contacted the warden at Walla Walla. We’ll let him handle Walker, but we still need to find out who did his dirty work.”

“I hope you do because I think he’s the same one who sent me a doll at Walker’s bidding.”

Healy puffed up his chest. “Don’t worry. We’ll nail him. You have other fish to fry right now, don’t you?”

Ryan jabbed a finger at his own chest. “Are you calling me a fish?”

“Yeah, a shark.” Healy wagged his finger at Kacie. “Don’t let him fool you, Ms. Manning. He might come off as the carefree, easygoing brother, but all these Brody boys are harder than granite and just as uncompromising.”

Ryan narrowed his eyes at Healy. The lieutenant and his brother didn’t get along, and Ryan sensed that his animosity carried over to him.

“If you could keep me posted on Duke Bannister, I’d appreciate it—professional courtesy.”

Healy shrugged. “Sure thing. How does your brother feel about this book?”

“All of my brothers are on board with it. We’d like to get to the bottom of what happened.”

The lieutenant’s lips spread into a mirthless smile. “Careful. You might not like what you find at the bottom of it all.”

“We’re willing to take that risk. As part of this—” he circled his finger in the air “—process, do I have permission to look up the case files?”

“
Mi casa es tu casa,
Chief. My house is yours.”

He and Kacie moved toward the office door, and Ryan made a half turn in time to catch Healy checking out Kacie’s derriere.

The lieutenant dragged his gaze up to Ryan’s face. “Yes?”

“Any news on the attempted suicide this morning?”

“Oh yeah, I heard you were involved in that, too.” He sat down behind his desk and folded his hands. “She’s on psych hold.”

Ryan dropped his chin to his chest in a curt nod, then placed his hand on the small of Kacie’s back to propel her out of the office.

As they walked to the elevator, Kacie leaned over to whisper in his ear. “Does he have something against you?”

“He doesn’t like my brother Sean.” He jabbed the elevator button. “Sean shows him up all the time. Makes him look bad. The lieutenant got written up a few months ago for not acting on a hunch of my brother’s that turned out to be right. A woman got murdered because of it.”

“Guess I should watch my back around him.”

Yeah, because he’s watching your backside.

Ryan sealed his lips and ushered Kacie into the elevator.

He didn’t need to be her personal protector. She was a grown woman and had probably been handling unwanted male attention for years. She’d been handling his for the past few days.

He pushed the button for the basement.

“Next stop?” She folded her arms and wedged a shoulder against the elevator.

“Records.”

The musty smell of the records lockup hit him as he opened the door, but the smell of a flowery perfume replaced it.

Marie Giardano peered at them through the mesh screen that guarded her counter, and her red lips broke into a wide smile. “If it isn’t one of the Brody boys come to brighten up an old lady’s day.”

He strode across the room and curled his fingers around the edge of the screen. “You look as beautiful as ever.”

She snorted but her eyes lit up. “You boys always say that, but you all come in here with other women in tow.”

Ryan reached out and pulled Kacie toward the counter. “Marie Giardano, this is Kacie Manning. She’s writing a book about Dad.”

Marie pursed her lipsticked mouth into a straight line. “Really. You’re the one who wrote that book on Daniel Walker, aren’t you?”

“I am. Did you read it?”

“Nope.” She jerked her thumb over her shoulder. “I get my fill of that stuff on the job. I stick to romance with a happily ever after.”

Kacie blinked her eyes at Marie’s hard tone.

“Kacie’s going to find out the truth about Dad, Marie. She’s going to set the record straight.”

“Uh-huh.” She turned back to Ryan. “What can I get for you? It’s been a constant parade of Brody brothers this summer. When’s that tough guy Judd going to pay his homage?”

“Judd’s out of the country right now, but you can help me find the file on Dad’s suicide.”

“Really?” Her eyes slid from his face to Kacie’s. “Why do you need to dig around in that?”

“I told you, Marie. Kacie’s writing a book. We want to start with the end. We’re going to try to find the woman who witnessed Dad jumping from the bridge that morning.”

“Cookie Phelps.”

“Cookie?”

“She was a hooker walking across the bridge that morning, probably after a night of seeing johns. Who knows? Maybe she was planning her own jump that morning.”

“That’s weird.” His pulse ticked up a notch and he looked at Kacie to gauge her reaction.

Her eyes took up half her pale face and her breath quickened between parted lips.

She’d had a stronger reaction than he’d had to the identity of the witness.

Marie drummed her long nails on the counter. “What’s weird about it? This city is full of hookers. Who else would be out and about at that time of the morning?”

“It’s her presence on the bridge at precisely that time that’s unusual. Chances are she was considering a jump. Why else would she be there? To sightsee? To take pictures in the dark?”

“So, maybe your father saved one more life before he died. Cookie saw him go over and changed her mind.”

“She was interviewed?”

“Of course. She called it in.”

“I want that file, Marie.”

“If you can find it, you can check it out. Lieutenant Healy already phoned down with his blanket approval for any file you want.”

She tapped on her keyboard and jotted down a few numbers on a slip of paper. “Here’s the row and shelf.”

“Thanks, Marie. Can I check it out or do I have to look at it here?”

“You can check that one out. It’s just paper—no evidence.” She buzzed the cage open, and Ryan held the door open for Kacie.

Kacie smiled her thanks at Marie, who had already turned back to her computer.

When they got to the row in the back of the room, Kacie trailed her hand along the boxes, reading out the numbers. She turned abruptly, almost running into his chest. “She doesn’t like me much, does she?”

“Didn’t seem like it. Maybe it’s just the claws coming out from one femme fatale to another.” He winked.

Rolling her eyes, she said, “She knew your father?”

“She was good friends with my father and mother. After Dad died, Marie would drink with my mom, just to see her home safely.” He located the box and pulled it from the shelf. “She probably just doesn’t like the idea of a book coming out and dredging up painful old memories.”

He balanced the box on a rolling stool and flipped off the lid. “There’s not too much in here. I’m just going to take the whole box if Marie lets me.”

“That woman would let you get away with murder.”

“She’s loyal, but not that loyal.”

“Figure of speech, Brody.” She replaced the lid and smacked her fist against it.

Ryan hoisted the box in his arms, and Kacie led the way out of the maze of metal shelves stuffed with cold cases. The files for the Phone Book Killer were there somewhere, and he was sure they’d get to those in due time.

Marie looked up from her keyboard. “Got what you need?”

“Right here.” Ryan patted the side of the box. “We’ll return it tomorrow.”

“Take your time, and send Judd over when he returns to U.S. soil.”

“Will do.”

“Thanks. Nice to meet you, Marie.” Kacie waved as she held the door open for Ryan and the box.

Marie flicked her long fingernails in their general direction.

“Oh boy.” Kacie pulled the door closed with a click.

Twenty minutes later, when they reached the elevator of their hotel, Ryan’s finger hovered between two buttons. “Your room or mine?”

“Let’s stick to my room. It’s closer.”

Clutching the box to his chest, he waited while Kacie opened her door. She stepped inside the room and wedged her foot against the door to hold it open for him.

He squeezed past her into the room, and she sucked in a breath. He dropped the box to the floor by the window and pulled out the two bulging file folders. Then he walked to the table and placed them side by side. “Lotta stuff here for one suicide.”

Kacie joined him at the table and spun one of the folders around to face her. “No wonder. This is for a different case—domestic violence.”

“Someone misfiled something.” He dropped the extra folder back into the box and thumbed open his father’s case.

Kacie placed a hand on his forearm. “Are you sure you’re up to this? I can go through it myself.”

He covered her hand with his. “Do you think I lost it on the bridge?”

“It upset you, being in that spot, and I don’t blame you.”

“It was eerie, but don’t you think I’ve been there before? As soon as I was old enough to take the Muni to the bridge, I checked it out.”

“I can certainly understand that, but if you’d prefer not to look at this file...”

“It’s just words on paper. It’s not like the coast guard ever found his body and took pictures.”

She disengaged her hand from his and pulled her chair to his side of the table. “Okay, then. Let’s take this from the top.”

Facing her laptop, she pushed it back on the table. The movement woke up the display, and Kacie jerked her head up and gasped.

His gaze darted from the blue screen to Kacie’s tight face. “What’s wrong?”

“Someone’s been in my room.”

Chapter Seven

Ryan’s body tensed and he looked ready to tackle someone. That was what she liked about him—he was always ready.

“How do you know? Is something missing?”

“It’s my laptop.” She jabbed a finger at the blue display with the log-in prompt glowing white against it. “When my computer goes to sleep, it displays my screen saver, that picture of my parents. The log-in prompt stays there only after several incorrect log-in attempts.”

He pushed back from the table. “You’re sure?”

“That’s how I configured it, or at least that’s how the self-described computer geek in my apartment building configured it.”