Ghost Walking

  “Did you check all of York’s foot gear?” He didn’t want the DA or some defense attorney claiming they hadn’t been thorough.

  “You bet. Nothing matched. And the only blood on her sneakers was on the bottom, nothing splashed on top. We were extra careful.” Cory’s look was pointed, as if he didn’t want Brandt to miss the significance. “But what do you make of the absence of fingerprints?”

  Brandt shrugged. “I suppose he wore gloves.”

  Cory shook his head. “Didn’t somebody tell you? There were no fingerprints—not anybody’s—on the apartment door or doorknob. Somebody must have wiped it clean.”

  “Are you sure?” Brandt thought back, picturing the scene when it was being processed. “I would swear I saw someone taking impressions.”

  “Maybe someone tried. But I have nothing.”

  Brandt frowned but held back another protest. Was there a problem in the lab? How many times had he asked himself that question lately?

  “I’d like to look over what we have on this case. Send me everything, including the field reports and names of our personnel who worked the scene.”

  Cory frowned, his demeanor a little chilly now. “You’re the boss. I’ll have them to you as soon as I can, but it’ll take a while to collect everything.”

  “No big rush. It’s just a review.” Brandt kept it casual. No reason to cause a stir…yet. “The captain’s bent out of shape over this recent string of murders. I don’t want any loose ends when I talk with him.”

  “Gotcha.” Cory’s expression lightened. “I’ll do my best to get it upstairs ASAP.”

  Brandt left the lab shaking his head. Another puzzle. A pro would wear gloves. He shouldn’t need to wipe down the scene. Considering how quickly Maggie got there, would he even have had time? Maybe they’d lost a bag or box of evidence through carelessness. No one would destroy normal, everyday fingerprints that should be there…not unless they’d made a mistake. One that needed to be covered up?

  * * *

  Over Maggie’s half-hearted protests, Annie took her shopping. They spent three hours wandering through the shops, trying on the latest fashions, admiring a shop window with high-end jewelry, and chatting over a late lunch. They were both grinning when they returned to Maggie’s apartment mid-afternoon with new jeans, T-shirts, and a couple of sexy blouses. Maggie’s last bag held a pair of badass black boots.

  They dumped their bags on the coffee table. With an audible sigh, Annie dropped her new, oversized sunglasses on top of the other purchases, kicked off her shoes, and sank into the nearest chair, putting her feet up on the ottoman. Maggie headed for the kitchen to fix iced tea. She was steeping the bags at the granite counter that separated kitchen from living room when her phone rang somewhere under the pile on the coffee table.

  “Annie, could you grab that for me?”

  Her friend dug through their bags and surfaced with the phone. “Ooo, it’s him.” She ran toward the kitchen and shoved it into Maggie’s hand. “He doesn’t want to talk to me.”

  “Coward.” Maggie laughed and tapped the photo on her screen. “Yes, Detective Brandt, what can I do for you?”

  There was an instant of silence, then he laughed. And dammit, the sound warmed her to her toes.

  “A loaded question,” he said. “Why so formal? This morning I was Josh. Never mind, but about this morning—”

  “Nothing to talk about,” she interrupted, before he spoiled their kiss by saying it was a mistake or something equally dismissive.

  He went on with just a slight pause. “I was about to ask what Annie said. Harry’s pretty uptight and has called me twice.”

  “Oh. No problem. She won’t do anything that would put him at risk.” She grinned and slanted her gaze to Annie. “She wants to date him.”

  “Maggie!” her friend squealed.

  “I take it she’s there with you,” Brandt said dryly. He sounded amused and gave an exaggerated sigh. “I see nothing but problems ahead. Harry talked a lot about her too. She should run the other way. My brother’s middle name is trouble.”

  “Don’t tell her that. You’ll only encourage her. Women love bad boys.”

  “Does that include you? Good to know.”

  “I wasn’t talking about me. Or you.”

  “Weren’t you? I should call Harry and relieve his mind. Give Annie my thanks. I’ll see you soon.” He disconnected.

  Yeah, and which Brandt would it be? The cop who’d accused her of triple murder or the man who’d made her lips tingle with pleasure?

  Lost in thought, she laid her phone on the counter. Annie bounced off the couch and joined her, leaning both elbows on the granite surface.

  When Maggie didn’t offer up the details of her conversation, Annie pushed the phone around with one finger and asked, “So what did he say?”

  “He’ll see me soon.”

  “That’s nice, but what about Harry?”

  “Oh.” Maggie looked up with a quick grin. “That he’s trouble.” The smile faded to a serious look. Maybe she shouldn’t encourage her. “Brandt made it a joke, but he might have meant it, Annie. His brother has been in serious legal difficulties if the feds were protecting him. Someone’s looking for him, and now he’s out in the open. If you could find him, so can anyone else.”

  Annie rolled her eyes. “Thanks for discounting my awesome investigative skills.”

  “You know what I meant. He can be found if someone really digs. If they come after him, I don’t want you caught in the middle. It’s too risky.”

  Annie frowned. “You seriously think he’s in danger? Can’t you protect him?”

  “Don’t kid yourself.” Maggie warned. “The feds don’t protect anyone without a very good reason. I understand why Harry wants to be near his mother right now, but it makes him a walking target…no matter how careful he is or how much Brandt watches his back.”

  Annie straightened. “You’re scaring me. Who’s after him?”

  “I don’t know. Brandt didn’t tell me. But I know it’s serious.”

  Picking up one of the tall glasses of sweet tea, Annie took a thoughtful sip. “I suppose it would be foolish to see him again. But he’s sure cute.”

  Maggie narrowed her eyes. It wasn’t like her friend to capitulate so easily. “So you’ll stay away from him? At least until we understand the situation a bit better?”

  “What choice do I have?”

  Not many. By unspoken agreement, they changed the subject. It wasn’t until Annie left an hour later and Maggie thought about their conversation that she realized her friend had answered a question with a question. A time-tested evasive tactic. Annie hadn’t actually said she’d stay away from Harry Brandt.

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  Brandt arrived at District 13 around seven the next morning. A message already waited from Cory stating the Pardson evidence had been gathered and was waiting. Brandt grabbed a mug of coffee, checked out the sealed lab box, and went through the contents. Just as Cory had said, there was no fingerprint report or log of print collection from the scene. Brandt picked up the personnel sheet and began calling the techs involved.

  The first two knew nothing, and the third was on sick leave. Brandt’s suspicion meter spiked…until he tracked the woman down at a local hospital where she’d undergone an emergency appendectomy the night of Pardson’s death. Couldn’t fake that. But had her absence made it easy for someone to tamper with the fingerprints?

  Fifteen minutes later he stood beside her hospital bed, explaining his concern. The brunette frowned at him. “I don’t understand, detective. I handled everything like normal. I found at least a dozen latent prints on the door, but only a few were sufficient for ID. I preserved everything, labeled and recorded.”

  “We can’t find it now. Where did you put it?”

  “In the locked evidence room, ready to be logged in the computer and analyzed. I swear, it was there. I left as soon as I turned it in, because I wasn’t feeling good.”

 
“No one’s doubting you,” Brandt said. “Someone’s just made a mistake. Don’t worry about it. We’ll find it. And take care of yourself. The lab will be eager to have you back.” He smiled. “I’m sure the backlog hasn’t improved a bit in your absence.”

  “That’s probably true,” she said, leaning back against the pillows. “Makes me want a nap just thinking about it.”

  By the time Brandt returned to the squad room, his three partners had gathered for the morning briefing. Although he mentioned the lack of fingerprints on the Parson case, he didn’t point out the lab glitch. For now, he’d keep his suspicions quiet until he had a chance to approach the captain. Whether sloppy or deliberate, the lab had a serious problem.

  Just as the meeting broke up, vice detective Justin Wernier called and asked to meet him at a local cafe down the street.

  “What’s this about?”

  “I’ll explain when you get here. We may be able to help one another.” The other cop hung up.

  Brandt stared at the phone. He didn’t like the cloak and dagger feel of this, but his curiosity was piqued. He grabbed his jacket from the back of his chair and headed out the door.

  The Corner Cafe was only four blocks away. When he walked in the door, he spotted the vice cop immediately. They’d never spoken, but he’d seen Wernier around the station. Who could miss the tall, skinny blond with the shaggy hair? Brandt hadn’t known the man worked vice and almost smiled at the idea of this lanky kid confronting thugs from the city’s gangs. When Wernier lifted his gaze, Brandt knew he’d made a bad assumption. The vice detective had the best cop eyes Brandt had seen in a long time.

  He slid into the booth across from the Wernier and ordered coffee from the waitress who’d followed him to his seat. The men introduced themselves, then waited while the waitress poured coffee.

  “So why are we here?” Brandt asked.

  “I heard you had an issue with evidence from the Pardson case.”

  Brandt leaned back, instantly wary. “Oh, where’d you hear that?”

  “Cory from the lab. He doesn’t have fingerprints from the crime scene, but said you thought he should.”

  Interesting. Why had the lab manager gotten Wernier involved? Brandt frowned into his coffee cup, wanting to tread lightly until he knew where this was going. “What are you getting at?

  “You’re not the first cop with missing evidence.”

  Brandt looked up at Wernier’s serious face. “Missing? As in lost or mishandled?”

  “Not exactly. Let me back up. And we’re talking on the QT…at least for now.” The vice cop stirred sugar into his coffee before taking a drink. “I’ve been working with the drug task force for three years. Naturally, Bullet Castile is on our radar, and we’ve tried to bring him down several times. We’d worked with Maggie York on a couple of overlapping cases—”

  Brandt leaned forward abruptly. “Is that why she was shot?”

  “I honestly don’t know. We’ve had our suspicions, but no proof, not even circumstantial. Not until now. I understand you tied Pardson to her shooting.” He waited for Brandt’s nod. “He’s worked for Castile on and off for years. Now he’s dead, and you have missing evidence. It fits a pattern. Over the past three years, we’ve had several disappearances. Nothing big, not every case, and we couldn’t be certain it wasn’t tech negligence. But coincidentally,” he added with sarcasm, “the cases always have a clear or suspected tie-in to Castile.”

  Brandt swore under his breath at the implication.

  Weiner said it plainly. “Someone in-house is on Castile’s payroll.” When Brandt nodded, the vice cop narrowed his eyes. “You don’t seem surprised.”

  “I guess I’m not.” He reported what he’d discovered that morning and his hospital conversation with the tech.

  Weiner’s face lit up. “That’s the closest I’ve heard to proving it. If we work together, maybe we can expose a rat…and get Castile at the same time.”

  “I’m listening. What’s the plan?”

  Wernier looked taken aback, then he laughed. “Hey, man. You got me. I don’t have one, but I thought we could share intel. Like if you get a handle on where your fingerprints went.”

  “What do I get out of this?” Brandt leaned back again. He was eager to cooperate, but he wanted something only the vice detective could give him.

  “I don’t suppose you’d accept my undying love.” Wernier’s grin widened, resembling a cocky kid more than a hardened cop who took down gangsters for a living. “I get the impression you have something in mind.”

  “A heads-up if you get wind of a hit order coming out of Boston.”

  Wernier frowned and lowered his voice. “You going to give me a name?”

  “Not the target, but the creep in Boston is Mike Milligan.”

  “Whoa. You’re talking about Big Mike?”

  “That’s the one.”

  “Your friend’s got mega trouble.” Wernier looked thoughtful. “We may be able to help each other more than I thought. If Big Mike is looking for local muscle, he’ll go to Castile.”

  That evening Brandt strode into the care facility prepared to have a serious talk with his brother about exposing himself to further risk. He came to an abrupt stop in the doorway of his mother’s room, delighted with the laughter on her lips but fighting disbelief at the cause. Harry sat beside the bed and next to him was the very pretty woman he’d seen at Maggie’s apartment. Annie Moore, the reporter.

  He tamped down a spurt of annoyance. Didn’t Harry realize how much trouble she could be? Not to mention that anyone around him was in danger?

  “Josh! Come join us.” Harry jumped up. “Annie was telling us some of the interesting people she’s met writing her articles.”

  Brandt smiled at Annie and held out a hand. Hers was small and warm. “Finally we meet. I didn’t realize it would be so soon.”

  She had the grace to blush. “When Harry called and asked if I wanted to meet his mother, I couldn’t resist. He gave her rave reviews.” Annie threw a smile at Carolyn Brandt. “And she didn’t disappoint.”

  “Oh, honey, you flatter me,” Carolyn said. “But I enjoy the company.”

  Indeed, she looked better tonight with a little color in her cheeks. Brandt leaned over the bed, kissed her on the forehead, and smoothed back a stray lock of her graying hair. “How’s my best girl? You look very pretty. Did you get your hair done?”

  She smiled up at him and patted her curls with a hand grown thin during her losing fight with cancer. “The hair stylist was here. It doesn’t make me look too old-ladyish, does it? I’m not used to these shorter curls.”

  “It looks perfect. You are perfect.”

  “And you’re biased,” she said, touching his cheek. “But I love every word. Sit down and talk with us.”

  “I will, but I need a moment with Harry first. We’ll step out in the hall and be right back. Anything you need?”

  “If she does, I can get it,” Annie volunteered. “We can talk about you while you’re gone.” Her voice was light, teasing, but she gave Brandt a wary look, as if wondering whether she’d be the topic of the brothers’ conversation.

  His mother nodded. “You boys run along. I’ll be fine.”

  As Brandt and Harry walked down the hallway, Harry immediately leaped into an apology. “I know I shouldn’t have called her, but I’ve never met anyone like her. Honestly, Josh, don’t you think she’s terrific?”

  “She’s also in danger,” he said dryly. “If Big Mike’s goons show up while you’re together, do you think they’re going to care if she’s an innocent bystander?”

  Harry’s face clouded. “I can’t put my life on hold forever.”

  “No, you were supposed to start a new life. But that decision’s behind us now. With you in the open like this, the new identity won’t protect you for long.” Brandt stopped and stepped into the facility’s small library room. It was empty this late in the evening. “I still think you should leave town. Tonight. I’ll take car
e of Mom. She’ll understand.”

  Harry shook his head before Brandt finished. “I’ve done a lot of dumb things in my life, but deserting my mother won’t be one of them.”

  “You know that’s not what she or I would think.”

  “Forget it, big bro. I got myself into this mess. You’ve already done way too much trying to get me out of it. I won’t leave her.”

  “Even if it means you could be killed?”

  “OK, Josh. What would you do?” Harry’s jaw firmed, and he stared at his brother as Brandt struggled for a response. “Yeah, don’t bother. We both know the answer. Case closed.”

  “That doesn’t make it right.” Brandt let out a pent-up breath. “I spoke with vice today. They’ll let me know if they hear any action out of Boston. It’s a long shot, but it could give us some warning. Keep your phone charged and on you. Can you at least do that?”

  “No problem.” Harry gripped Brandt’s shoulder. “Now can we get back to the women? If you’re going to curtail this romance, I’d like to enjoy tonight while I can. If I’d met Annie four years ago, things might be different.”

  Brandt gave his brother a quick glance. Unusual remark for Harry. His brother loved the women, but he’d never acted like they had any impact on his life. Annie had made quite an impression in a short time. Too bad it was the wrong time.

  They returned to his mother’s room and stayed until the night staff reminded them twice it was past their mother’s usual bedtime. She was visibly tired, but Brandt admitted Annie’s visit had been good for her. Maybe it was a relief to talk with someone whose primary thought wasn’t how soon they’d lose her. Or maybe she missed the company of another woman.

  On the way out, Annie and Harry stopped to chat in the waiting room. Brandt walked on. His brother had been animated all evening, and the two seemed to have forgotten him as he exited the front door.

  He checked the vehicles in the parking lot and circled the building before climbing into his car. As far as he could tell, death wasn’t lurking in the shadows…at least not tonight.