Silent Scream

  “David!” Olivia ran from the parking garage, Noah at her side. Dodging oncoming cars, she crossed the street and grabbed his arm. “Not like this. Let him go.”

  David lowered Crawford to the ground, slowly releasing his lapels. His fists dropped to his sides, but he didn’t retreat an inch. “Tell them, Crawford. Tell them about Mary.”

  “David. We know about Mary and her brother. Take a breath.” She took his fist in her hands, held it, calming him. “We’ll get what we want to know. Trust me.”

  “Arrest him,” Crawford sputtered. “That was assault on a fed—”

  Olivia turned, eyes flashing. “If you say federal agent, I will walk away and let him take you apart, I swear to God. You sonofabitch. You had to have known what she did.”

  Crawford’s eyes flickered. “I don’t know where she is. I talked to her brother and he doesn’t know either. Leave me alone.”

  “She’s your daughter,” Tom cried, his voice shaking. “She has my grandmother.”

  “She’s not my daughter,” Crawford said coldly. “I can’t help you with your relative.”

  David heard popping inside his brain. “Your daughter has killed three men and has injured my friend. Her arsons killed five people, wiped out a neighborhood, and may have put my partner in a wheelchair. So you’d better find a way to help us.”

  “You’d better consider your answer carefully, Agent Crawford,” Noah said, his face like stone. “Your family appears to mean little to you, but it means a lot to us.”

  “She is not my daughter. I married her mother, got her two psycho brats,” he spat.

  “Because their mother was murdered,” David said. “What case were you chasing the night an ex-con broke into your house and bludgeoned your wife to death?”

  Crawford stepped back, hitting the brick wall. “Preston Moss.”

  “Barlow said you were a man obsessed,” Olivia murmured.

  “No, I was doing my job. I was chasing a man who’d set fires, who’d killed.”

  “You are going to stop chasing Moss,” Olivia said quietly, “and start chasing Mary.”

  “I don’t know where she is.” His eyes gleamed, slyly, David thought and felt a shiver of repulsion skitter across his skin. “But I can give you something else.”

  “What?” Olivia demanded.

  “My sources say that you’ve identified Mary and her three cohorts,” Crawford said, “but there’s someone else involved. Someone who knew she killed the Fischer kid. I’ll tell you if you give me Lincoln Jefferson.”

  She looked up at Crawford in disbelief. “You want Moss that badly? You have no idea how much I want to turn away and let David kill you with his bare hands. I’m done with your games, your need-to-know, and your quid pro quo. You’re sick. You don’t deserve your badge.” She pulled out her cell, walked a few paces. “I’m calling my captain.”

  “Wait.” Crawford followed, closing his hand over hers. “Don’t call him. I’ll tell—”

  David flinched at the sound that cracked the air and threw himself forward, knocking Olivia and Crawford to the ground. People were screaming and from the corner of his eye he saw Tom throw himself over two women who’d crept close to overhear.

  Noah sprinted across the street and David heard the squeal of tires and two more shots fired in rapid succession. He hunkered over Crawford and Olivia as the doors of the police department flew open and six officers ran into the street, guns drawn.

  Shaking, David pushed to his knees. “Olivia. Olivia.” He pushed Crawford off her and his heart stopped. She was covered in blood and she wasn’t moving. “Olivia.” He pressed his fingertips to her throat. And breathed. “She’s got a strong pulse,” he told the officer who’d knelt beside him. “I can handle this. Go see to the others.”

  The officer rushed off. David checked Crawford’s pulse, but the man was dead, his blood pooling on the sidewalk from the huge hole in his chest. The bullet had blasted straight through him. Straight into Olivia. Probably hit her shoulder.

  David swiftly unbuttoned her blouse to check for the bullet’s entry, breathing a sigh of relief at the sight of the Kevlar vest she wore.

  “What the hell is going on here?” Abbott fell to his knees beside them.

  “She’s unconscious. She hit her head on the concrete. I think all this blood is Crawford’s.” Gingerly David pulled the Kevlar away, exposing her shoulder and he calmed a little more. Already forming was what would be a nasty bruise, but there was no blood, no gaping hole. Just beautiful skin. “The bullet hit the vest.”

  “Thank God.” Abbott looked paler than Olivia. “I couldn’t handle another one.”

  She stirred, moaning a little, lifting her hand to her head. “Ow.”

  David pulled her hand away gently, his hand shaking now that he could see she was all right. Her fedora was half off her head and he set it aside, checking her head. “You’ll have a goose egg, but there’s no open wound.”

  “Good,” she murmured. “You have enough stitches for both of us.”

  He’d forgotten. Tentatively he ran his fingers over his jaw, relieved none of the sutures had burst. “Can you sit up?”

  She nodded and he helped her, giving in to the need to hold her for a moment. He pulled her close and felt her shudder. Or maybe it was his. “Crawford?” she asked.

  “He’s dead,” David said, feeling only regret that they hadn’t made him talk first.

  Noah crouched beside them, breathing hard. “Bullet came from a brown late-model Explorer. I chased, but he got away. I got the plate and called it in.”

  “What the hell happened?” Abbott demanded.

  “Crawford was Mary’s stepfather,” Olivia said. “I called to tell you, but you were in a meeting with the commander, closed door. Crawford said he didn’t know where she was, but was about to tell us who else was involved when somebody shot him.”

  Abbott frowned. “He knew who the blackmailer is and didn’t tell us right away?”

  “Tried to bargain for custody of Lincoln,” Noah said.

  “Sonofabitch,” Abbott said, looking down at Crawford’s body with disgust.

  David’s mind was spinning. “He said he’d talked to Mary’s brother, who didn’t know where she was. But what if the brother was lying? What if Jonathan’s involved?”

  Olivia looked at Noah, then back up at David, confused. “Who’s Jonathan?”

  “Mary’s brother,” David said.

  Olivia struggled to her feet. “No, Mary’s brother is a doctor. Andy Crawford.”

  David frowned. “She’s got two brothers then. One is named Jonathan.” He told them what he and Tom had learned.

  “Jonathan’s who Crawford meant,” Olivia said. “He couldn’t have talked to Andy, because I was talking to him on my way back here. Andy’s coming from Wisconsin, to try to help us find Mary.”

  “Then let’s find Jonathan,” David said grimly.

  Wednesday, September 22, 6:20 p.m.

  He would have preferred to have shot Crawford in the head, but he’d been forced to choose a wider target as he’d shot from a moving car. He thought Crawford would never duck around those tall men. He’d been arguing with Sutherland. If he’d told them about me, they would have run for their cars. So he thought he was safe, for now.

  He pulled over, taking his gun and laptop. Webster had made out his plate, which didn’t matter as the plate was stolen. Still, it was too dangerous to keep driving this car around with a million cops searching for him. He’d steal one, then go find Mary.

  Then it was time to go. He’d had a good run here, developed some skills. He’d get the fake ID he kept stashed in his safe-deposit box and start over somewhere cool. As long as he had his offshore bank numbers, the world was his damn oyster.

  • • •

  Wednesday, September 22, 6:30 p.m.

  Olivia looked up when the conference room door opened and immediately wished she hadn’t. The room careened around her, taking her stomach with it. David closed
the door behind him, in his eyes the abject terror that had been there since Mary drove off with his mother.

  “You need to get x-rayed.” He dropped the handful of items he carried on the table. “Tylenol, ice packs, a clean T-shirt from Micki, and a clean vest from Abbott.”

  She shrugged out of the shirt, happy not to be wearing Crawford’s blood and guts anymore. But she couldn’t manage the button at her wrist, and David took up the task.

  His gaze fixed on the hole in the fabric. He stared a few seconds, his face stark.

  Her mind replayed the moment, as she knew his was. The shot, the impact of the bullet, the sudden warmth of blood, the three of them, falling. “I’m sorry, David. I should have gotten what Crawford knew. If I hadn’t been so angry…” She closed her eyes, miserable. “We’d know who the blackmailer is. We might know where Mary is.”

  He was quiet as he peeled the bloody vest away and taped an ice pack to her shoulder. “You need to keep that ice pack on for at least twenty minutes, then you can put the vest back on. You’re going to have some loss of rotation in your shoulder.”

  He hadn’t responded to her apology and it stung. But what did she expect him to say? That it was all right? It wasn’t. She’d been outraged, acted impulsively, and now Crawford was dead, taking his knowledge with him. If they didn’t get to Phoebe in time… David won’t forgive me. I won’t forgive myself.

  “It’s my left arm. I can still shoot.” She popped a Tylenol and pressed the second ice pack to her head. “I need to get back. Thanks for the first aid.”

  He helped her to her feet, holding her when she would have bolted. “Olivia, wait. Look at me.” She did and saw no accusation in his eyes. Just raw fear. “You didn’t know Crawford would be killed. Do I wish we knew what he knew? Hell, yes. But in your place, I would have done the same thing. Lincoln did a terrible thing twelve years ago and he should pay for his crime, but Crawford… he was somehow worse.”

  She shuddered out a breath and leaned into him. “We’ll find Mary a different way.”

  His arms came around her and they clung, taking comfort and strength. “Don’t leave without the new vest,” he whispered fiercely. “Promise me.”

  She kissed him softly. “I won’t take chances. I have to get back now.”

  She stepped out of the conference room and blinked. Louise Tomlinson was coming out of the elevator. “Mrs. Tomlinson?”

  Louise hesitated, then squared her shoulders. “Detective Sutherland. I need to talk to you. It’s important. I heard about Detective Kane on the news. I’m sorry.”

  Olivia forced herself to meet the woman’s gaze, rather than looking at Kane’s empty desk. “Thank you. I’m working with Detective Webster on your husband’s murder. Please come with me.”

  She led Louise into Abbott’s office where Noah sat at the round table with Barlow and Micki. “Abbott’s with the Feds, dealing with Crawford’s shooting,” he said without looking up. He was studying a printout with narrowed eyes. “I got cell LUDs on both Blunt and Tomlinson. Barlow and Micki have their credit card statements.”

  Olivia cleared her throat. “This is Mrs. Tomlinson. This is Detective Webster and Sergeants Barlow and Ridgewell.”

  The three of them abruptly lifted their eyes, then Noah stood. “Mrs. Tomlinson, please sit down. We’re all very sorry for your loss.”

  Louise took the chair he held out for her. “Thank you. I had a visitor at my house this morning. He said he was a reporter, asked me a lot of questions about my husband, his finances. He started asking very personal questions about the nature of my divorce and I asked him to leave. Thankfully my son was with me. The young man was large and intimidating. The visit upset me and my son insisted I take one of the sleeping pills my doctor prescribed. When I woke up hours later, I watched the news and saw the young man who’d come to my house.”

  “What did he look like?” Olivia asked, trying to keep her excitement contained.

  “Like this.” Louise drew a folded paper from her purse. “I got it from the Internet. I had to look it up to be sure it was the same man.”

  Olivia unfolded it and swallowed her sigh. “Albert.”

  Louise nodded. “I didn’t know he was dead until an hour ago. I didn’t know Detective Kane was dead either. My son’s been trying to keep me from becoming too upset. When I realized what had happened, I knew I needed to talk to you. From the questions he asked, I think this Albert person knew my husband had been blackmailed.”

  She said it as though the blackmail came as no surprise to her. The sex pictures, Olivia thought. Tomlinson’s blackmail. “How did you know your husband was having an affair, ma’am?”

  “He was getting undressed one night and his underwear were on inside out. I’ve folded and put them in his drawer for thirty years. I knew they were right when he put them on. I kept watching, found more signs. Finally I had lunch with a friend and got the name of her PI. A week later the PI brought me pictures. The next day, I got another envelope of pictures in the mail. I was in shock, seeing Barney with that whore….” She swallowed hard. “The pictures that came in the mail weren’t labeled. I guess I assumed they’d come from the PI, too. Now, after that young man visited… I’m not sure.”

  “They were taken at different times,” Micki said. “The PI’s photos and the others.”

  Louise frowned. “I didn’t notice. I didn’t look at them too closely. I couldn’t.”

  “You combined all the pictures and gave them to your attorney?” Olivia asked.

  “Yes. If I’d thought about it two nights ago, I would have told you.” Louise’s eyes filled. “I heard about last night’s fire, the firefighter, your partner. I’m so sorry.”

  Olivia squeezed her hand. “You didn’t know. You’re here now. You told your friend and the PI about your suspicions about your husband. Did anyone else know?”

  “No. I knew Barney would put up a fight if he knew I knew. Maybe even take our money. I had to think of our son, his future. I kept my mouth shut until my lawyer filed the divorce papers.”

  “Where did you meet your friend?” Noah asked.

  “This sandwich place near the hospital, where I volunteer. It’s called the Deli.”

  Barlow’s eyes lit up and Olivia’s pulse picked up pace. “That’s the connection? The Deli?” she asked excitedly and Barlow nodded.

  “It’s gotta be. I have Deli charges on both Tomlinson’s and Blunt’s credit cards.”

  “And we found a cup from the Deli in the trash at Eric’s,” Micki said. “Somebody could have been sitting next to all of them and intercepted their data. Let’s get the store video, match these dates with the day Mrs. Tomlinson and her friend met and see who pops.” She started to get up, but Noah shook his head.

  “The Deli only has a camera on the cash register. Remember, we asked for that seven months ago, when we were looking for Pit-Guy’s victims.”

  Micki slumped back in her chair. “You’re right. Well, dammit.”

  “I don’t think I noticed who was sitting around me,” Louise said. “I’m sorry. If you want to hypnotize me or something, I’d be good with that.”

  Olivia frowned, a thought forming in her mind. No, it couldn’t be. But what if it was?

  “Mrs. Tomlinson, thank you for coming in. I need to ask you to wait outside, please.” She motioned to Abbott’s clerk, who quickly hurried over. “Faye, can you get Mrs. Tomlinson a coffee? Thanks.”

  When Louise was gone, Olivia grabbed the sketch of the man Austin had seen. It could be. She held it up. “‘Thanks for coming. Buh-bye,’” she said and Micki’s eyes widened.

  “No freaking way,” Micki said. “Kirby?”

  “No.” Noah shook his head. “Not possible. He helped Eve last year.” Then his eyes closed. “Because of a conversation he overheard. Hell.”

  Micki sat back, stunned. “He has free Wi-Fi. I’ve even used it. Oh my God.”

  “That could have been him in the brown Explorer,” Noah said. “Right body type.
”

  “We need units to the Deli,” Olivia said. “If he goes back, we need to be ready.”

  Barlow grabbed the phone on Abbott’s desk. “I’ll do it.”

  Olivia stared at the sketch. “Austin. We never announced that we picked him up.”

  “He may think Austin’s still missing,” Micki said.

  “And he wanted him enough to kill Kane.” Olivia closed her eyes, trying to focus but the back of her head throbbed like a bitch. “What if we sent a message from Austin’s phone, asking to meet ‘Kenny’?”

  “We could be waiting, catch him,” Noah said.

  “Or let him get away again,” Olivia countered evenly. “He might go to Mary.”

  “He might go to France,” Micki said flatly. “I don’t want to lose him.”

  “You think I do?” Olivia snapped. “He murdered Kane. I want to gut him and watch him bleed and beg for mercy. But Phoebe’s still out there. If you have a better idea, let’s have it.”

  “He’s killed five people,” Noah said. “I don’t want Phoebe to be number six. Let’s run it by Abbott. He has to approve it.”

  Barlow hung up Abbott’s phone. “No Kirby at the Deli and no brown Explorer. But there is a white van parked around the back.”

  Micki’s smile was sharp. “I’ll get a warrant for the van and property. You set the Austin trap. We’ll find a way to track him.”

  Olivia pushed herself to her feet. She could see David and Tom standing near her desk, David bandaging Tom’s hand. She could feel his fear from here. Would feel his heartache if she failed. “We can’t lose him. We have to find Mary.”

  “Are you going to tell them?” Noah asked, pointing to the two men.

  “About Kirby, but not about trying to lure him. I don’t want to get their hopes up.”

  Noah patted the shoulder that wasn’t iced down. “I’m going to find Abbott, get this moving. Sit down and rest for a few minutes. I’ll be back.”

  “No, we’ll need a positive ID from Austin to get a warrant. I’ll get a six-pack photo array together and get Kirby’s license photo to drop in. I’ll meet you back here.”

  Wednesday, September 22, 6:30 p.m.