The Heart of a Killer

  Roman sat next to her in the kitchen. "I'm so sorry. I should have been here."

  She smiled. "I don't need a babysitter, Roman."

  He lifted his arm and winced a little. "I doubt I could have offered much help anyway, goddammit."

  "You could have shot the bastard."

  Roman laughed. "I would have, too. I want him dead."

  "We all want him dead." She filled him in on what happened while Gabe and Dante worked with the CSU team and the uniforms.

  "Units have already been sent to find Sam Maclin. He's not at home." Dante said. "And his mother doesn't know where he is. He left the house about seven tonight, said he was going out, but didn't say where he was going."

  "That makes him a viable suspect," she said. "What about Crey Robinson?"

  "On duty, as usual. Which doesn't mean anything."

  "No, it doesn't."

  She was wiped out by the time the CSU team left. Dante was about to shuffle Roman and Gabe out the door when she remembered.

  "Oh, wait. Maclin's file."

  Roman and Gabe stopped at the front door. "What?" Gabe asked.

  "I found something in Maclin's file."

  They were in the living room now. Anna had drunk a couple beers, so she felt a lot better. Dante insisted she curl up with Rusty and rest. He sat next to her--really close. She couldn't say she minded all that much.

  Roman slid into the recliner. "What about Maclin's file?"

  "I finally read his autopsy report, front to back. I'd read it before, several times, but admittedly I skimmed because it was so unpleasant to relive the ordeal of that night. This time it finally sunk in. I think the connection wasn't there for me because it had been so long since I was in that alley."

  "What?" Dante asked.

  "Tony Maclin died of blunt-force trauma to the head. From a brick."

  Dante frowned, then looked at Gabe and Roman. "A brick? Nobody hit him with a brick."

  "I don't remember a brick," Roman said.

  Gabe sat on the edge of the recliner and shook his head. "No, there wasn't a brick."

  Anna nodded. "That's what I thought I remembered, too. I know you guys punched him, but there was no brick. But do you understand what I said? Cause of death was blunt-force trauma to his head--from the brick."

  "Wait." Dante looked at the others, then switched back to Anna. "We didn't kill him?"

  She smiled. "No. You didn't kill him. I think you all hit him until he passed out, then when you helped me inside, someone else picked up a brick and hit him over the head. That's what killed him."

  "Son of a bitch." Gabe sat there with an incredulous look on his face.

  "Huh." Dante stared at her. "All these years, we thought we'd beat him to death."

  "We didn't kill him." Roman looked at Dante and Gabe, then turned his attention to Anna. "Which means the suspect must have done the deed."

  "That's a powerful secret. One he's been holding on to for years," Gabe said.

  "But is it a good enough secret to want us all dead?" Anna asked. "Especially now, after all this time."

  Dante nodded. "People have killed for way less than that. If he has something to lose, and he thinks we might know the truth about what happened that night, then yeah, I'd say he'd want to eliminate all of us."

  Gabe stood. "Well, I'll leave the crime solving to all of you. All I know is that's one less death I'm responsible for."

  Dante stood and slapped him on the back. "Makes you feel all good about yourself now, doesn't it?"

  Gabe laughed. "Yeah. I might even go to church this weekend."

  Roman stood, too, slowly made his way over to Anna. "This doesn't mean we're out of the woods yet." He kissed her cheek. "But it's good to know we didn't kill him. I've carried a lot of guilt over that all these years."

  "I know. You watch yourself."

  "I have been."

  Dante walked Roman and Gabe to the door, closed and locked it, then returned to her.

  He scooped Anna up in his arms and carried her to the bedroom.

  "I'm capable of walking, you know."

  He looked down at her. "And I could have lost you tonight. So let me indulge you."

  He laid her in bed, helped her undress, then pulled the covers over her. He called Rusty, who lay down on the floor on her side of the bed. Then he undressed and climbed into bed next to her and turned out the lights.

  "I could get used to having you here in my bed," she said.

  "I could get used to being here."

  That was all either of them said before she drifted off to sleep.

  Twenty-Two

  What Dante hadn't told Anna amidst all the chaos that had happened that night was that Gabe had come through with information about Crey Robinson's drug-dealing past. Robinson had worked for the Bertucci family as a dealer back when he was in college. Though it wasn't information that Anna would be able to verify through any legal channels.

  But at least they knew now. Which meant Robinson stayed at the top of the suspect list, alibi or not.

  She was back at work a couple days after the attack, ignoring the fatherly looks given to her by Pohanski. The swelling on her face had gone down and she was lucky not to end up with a black eye. She felt fine. A little stiff, but mobile and so ready to end this case and this killer she could taste it.

  And still unable to work the case, which made her seethe.

  So she worked the other homicides, which had generated very few leads, but they were still murders that needed follow-up. Roman helped her with those and they had interviewed a few suspects and got those out of the way. Unfortunately, the cases were so cold she was getting frostbite in July, so no luck on the newly assigned cases, which left her plenty of time to work on the one case they all wanted to close.

  "So Crey Robinson has an alibi," she said to Dante as she leaned back in her chair. "Maybe he wasn't the only one in the alley that night. And maybe whoever was with him is doing the killings."

  "It's a thought," Dante said.

  "A pretty good one," Roman added.

  He'd been back on duty longer than her, was recovering from his injuries. His arm was out of the sling and the knife wound was healing. He still walked with a limp but Pohanski put him back on active duty. Anna was just so damn happy Roman had escaped the killer she wanted to dance on top of her desk. They were winning. The killer had tried to take both Roman and her down and he hadn't succeeded.

  It was only a matter of time and they'd have him.

  They still hadn't found Sam Maclin, who'd seemingly gone missing after the night of her attack.

  "Sam Maclin is still our strongest suspect," Dante said. "You're attacked and suddenly he can't be found. We have a BOLO out for him. His photo and license plate number has been sent out to all city and county LEs. We'll find him."

  "Unless he skipped town before I was attacked, in which case he's not our suspect."

  "We've alerted his mother and told her it's in his best interest to contact us and clear himself. If he gets in touch with her and he can come up with an alibi for the night of your attack, I can't imagine he wouldn't," Roman said.

  "If he's innocent," Dante added, crossing his arms.

  "Yeah. If he's innocent," Roman said.

  Now that she'd discovered that the guys hadn't killed Tony Maclin, the cloud of guilt had lifted. Where once she might have felt sorry about targeting another Maclin, now she didn't. If Sam Maclin was the one doing all the killings, he had to be stopped. And she wouldn't feel guilty about taking another son away from Susan Maclin.

  "My bet is he's going to come home. His art is there, and that's his passion. I don't think he can stay away that long."

  Dante nodded. "You may be right, but it's a big risk for him. He has to know we're watching."

  "Maybe. But he thinks he's smarter than we are," she said.

  "He is a smug bastard," Roman said. "He might think he can outsmart us."

  "Or outwait us." Anna stood. "What if we pulled the
surveillance crew outside his house? Everyone's supposed to be out there looking for the killer, anyway."

  Dante's lips curled. "Good idea."

  "Only we won't be outside waiting for him..."

  Dante's eyes sparkled. "Sometimes you have devious ideas. Could have used someone like you out in the field."

  She laughed. "No, thanks. This job is dangerous enough."

  It had been difficult getting Susan Maclin's permission to allow them inside her home. She wasn't exactly happy to see them. In fact, her formerly gracious attitude toward them had changed to one of cool disregard. Almost hatred.

  But Dante assured her they were only looking out for Sam's welfare and were trying to clear him off the suspect list, and the best way to do that was to bring him in. Hiding out from them only made him look bad.

  She agreed with that, but she couldn't get him to answer his phone. She told Dante she'd been trying several times a day and he wouldn't answer.

  They'd tried hitting up his cell phone for a location, but got nothing.

  They pulled the unmarked car off the street after doing a sweep of the neighborhood, including all the houses. Sam was nowhere in the vicinity.

  Anna had stayed behind in the precinct after Dante and Roman left so Pohanski wouldn't think she was going with him. Pohanski was wandering the bull pen, so she got on the phone with a lead on one of her cases, tapping her pen against the desk and counting down every minute. As soon as Pohanski made himself scarce, she ended the call, grabbed her notebook and keys and left.

  She met Dante at a convenience store a few miles from the precinct. They parked a block over and went in the back door of the Maclins' house.

  Susan Maclin was already inside with Roman. He took her upstairs, out of sight, in case there was trouble. They wanted to make sure she was safe.

  "I'll cover the living room and kitchen area," Dante said.

  Anna nodded. "I'll take the art studio."

  "Mic up so we can stay in contact in case anyone spots him," Dante said.

  She took the earpiece and slid it in. "Everyone hear me?"

  "Got you," Roman said.

  She headed off into the studio. "Dante?"

  "I hear you."

  The cool air in the studio came as a relief, even with all the windows streaming in sunlight. The day had started blistering hot and had only gotten worse.

  She wandered around to look at the art. What did it take to have this kind of talent? The paintings, the sculptures--it was something that was beyond her. She loved art, loved going to the galleries to look at paintings and try to interpret the artists' messages. To have that level of talent left her in awe.

  And to have an entire family with that kind of talent--she wondered how Tony would have ended up if he had lived. It was a shame he'd traded his talent for drugs and craziness. But they said some artists lived on the edge of madness. Was that what Tony had done? Had his talent driven him to the brink, and he'd dealt with it by turning to drugs?

  And why had Maclin attacked her that night? Crime of opportunity, maybe. She'd been in the wrong place at the wrong time. And the attempted rape--that had come out of nowhere. She blamed his high for that. Or maybe he'd had the predilection for it all along. She supposed they'd never know.

  She moved over to the sculpture in process, the one Sam had been working on when she and Dante had come to talk to him before. He'd made some progress on it. It was a bust, mostly finished now, of a young woman with flowing, wavy hair that cascaded over her shoulders. She wore a locket that dipped between her breasts.

  The intricacy of the sculpture was amazing. How did he do something like that? The time it took to chip away at each piece, then mold it to make it look like an actual person must take hours of painstaking work.

  She leaned in to examine the workmanship, and something caught her eye.

  Her breath caught.

  Above the breast, Sam had carved a heart.

  Coincidence.

  She backed away and moved to some of his finished pieces. They were all women, some full bodies.

  And on each of them were carvings of a heart above the left breast, some so small they were barely noticeable. But they were there, on every piece.

  "No."

  "Anna?"

  Dante's voice, concerned.

  "Anna. Answer," he said again.

  "I'm fine. Just checking something out."

  "You see him?"

  "No."

  She examined the paintings, some done by Tony long ago, judging by his name written in the right-hand corner of the canvas. Most by his mother. In every one there were hearts. Some near the signature, some on the people.

  How had she missed it before?

  "You like the art?"

  She whirled around and saw Sam facing her. He had a gun in his hand. She reached for hers.

  "Don't."

  She dropped her hand, but didn't relax, ready at any time to draw her weapon.

  "How did you get in here?" she asked.

  "I've been here the whole time."

  "So your mother knew all along?"

  He smiled. "No. She never knew about the hideaway."

  "What hideaway?"

  He cracked a smile. "Wall space in the house that connects rooms. Tony and I found it years ago. It was our secret. We never told Mom and Dad."

  She swallowed, watched him casually hold the gun. He wasn't exactly pointing it at her. He was looking at all the art, zeroing in on his sculpture.

  "I really need to get back to work."

  "Then tell me everything. Did you kill all those people?"

  His gaze shot to hers. Anger. "No."

  "Did you come after me at my house the other night?"

  He frowned. "What? No."

  "Then tell me how I'm supposed to believe you."

  "Why didn't you ever tell anyone about what happened to my brother that night?"

  A cold chill shivered down her spine. "You were there."

  "Yeah. I was there." He lifted the gun. "I saw it all."

  She wondered if he had really seen it all.

  "Do you know what Tony did that night?"

  His gaze didn't waver, not even when Sam and Roman came running in, guns drawn. She lifted her hand to stay them.

  "Yeah. My brother died."

  "Do you know what else he did that night?"

  He cocked his head to the side. He didn't know.

  Anna unbuttoned the top two buttons of her shirt and showed him the heart.

  "Did you see him do this to me?"

  Sam's gaze bored into the scar on her chest. His eyes filled with tears and he stepped forward, his hand out as if he wanted to touch her.

  "Maclin, don't." Dante took a step forward.

  "It's okay, Dante."

  Sam didn't touch her, just drew closer. "Jesus Christ. I didn't know he cut you like that."

  "You were there. You saw."

  He started rocking back and forth on his heels, the gun still aimed at her, but his hand was more relaxed now. "We were home alone together and he told me he was going out. I told him I was old enough to go along. He said fine, so he took me with him, said we'd go play laser tag, but he had a stop to make first. He drove to the alley, told me to wait in the car for him, that he'd be right back. Said he had to buy some blow and I was supposed to stay in the car."

  "You didn't stay in the car, did you?" Anna asked.

  "No. I wanted to see. I was scared for him. I wanted to make sure he was gonna be okay, so I got out of the car and followed him into the alley, but I hid. He was waiting for the guy, then you...you showed up. He was already high. Really high. That's why I was worried about him, afraid he'd do something stupid. And he did. He jumped you and I didn't know what to do. I didn't know what to do."

  Tears rolled down his cheeks.

  "I was going to stop him, but I was scared. When we first got there he told me if the dealer found me he'd kill me, so I stayed where I was. And then your friends came and they b
eat up Tony, and I was even more scared that they'd find me and hurt me, too. So I just stayed hiding, trying not to make any noise."

  "What happened after the guys left with me?"

  "I was going to go get Tony and get the hell out of there, right? Because Tony was starting to get up. But then this guy came, and Tony asked for help, said some guys beat him up. And the guy was pissed, man. Really pissed. Said Tony blew it for him. And he took a brick and slammed it on Tony's head, hard."

  Sam really started to cry then. Anna forced herself to stay composed, trying not to relive that night, the same night Sam had had to live through.

  He could have stopped it, could have stopped it from the beginning. He chose not to.

  "Then what happened?"

  "I was afraid. I ran. I ran for blocks until I couldn't breathe anymore. I caught a taxi home and never told anyone what I saw. I saw my brother get killed and I never said anything to anyone. All these years I've felt weak and ashamed because I didn't do anything. I didn't stop him when he did...that...to you, and I didn't stop my brother from getting killed."

  Sam lowered the gun and turned to face the sculpture. "All I could do was make beautiful things. The beautiful things to erase all that ugliness."

  Dante rushed in and grabbed the gun from Sam. Roman cuffed him.

  Susan Maclin had seen it all, heard it all, her eyes wide and tear filled as Anna walked by.

  She stopped Anna. "My Tony did that to you?"

  Anna nodded.

  She lifted a fisted hand to her lips and began to sob. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry."

  They took Sam into the station. Dante got Pohanski and he led the interview.

  In interrogation, Sam told him everything that went down twelve years ago, informed them that Tony told him his dealer was a medical student who'd gone to the same high school. Based on their suspicions about Crey Robinson, they gave Sam a photo lineup and he picked Robinson right away as the one who'd hit Tony with the brick.

  It had given Anna a great sense of satisfaction when the arrogant Dr. Robinson was arrested for Tony Maclin's murder.

  Now that their involvement in the Maclin case was out in the open, Pohanski called them all into the office.

  "Jesus Christ," Pohanski said, pacing his office. "You didn't think to mention any of this to me before now?"

  Anna didn't say a word. Neither did Dante or Roman.

  "All this time. All these years. You were all involved in a murder and a cover-up. And Anna--your father?"

  "Did what he thought was best, sir."

  Pohanski rubbed his hand over his bald head. "What am I supposed to do about this now?"