Her friends . . . Cordelia’s pain . . . What else have I been missing?
‘Elizabeth knew if Silas gave Lippman up, she’d go to jail,’ she said to Tanner, ‘and she didn’t want that. She did earn a few brownie points, at the end. She killed Lippman to save other lives. She’ll spend the rest of her life in prison, but the State’s Attorney arranged for her to serve her time locally so her son can visit.’
‘I remember Elizabeth Morton clearly,’ Clay said. He and Joseph Carter had been responsible for her capture. ‘Being in prison gives her a damn good alibi, though. She’s obviously not the drive-by shooter. Nor did she leak the safe house location. So we’re back to Rossi. JD, can you get your hands on Rossi’s personnel file? Go back at least eleven years, back to the start of Lippman’s crimes. We’ll see if Rossi connects to any of Silas’s cases that Stevie’s been reviewing. It has to be one of those cases, otherwise there’d be no reason to try to kill her.’
‘I requested Rossi’s file on my way back from the scene,’ JD said. ‘I should have it in an hour, tops.’
There was a moment of quiet, then. Stevie was mentally processing, making lists, trying to think of what else to ask. She figured JD was, too. But Clay was frowning, drumming his fingers on the table broodingly. ‘What?’ she asked him softly.
Clay’s chest rose and fell with the deep breath he drew. ‘Fine. I’m going to say what we haven’t yet said, but what I’m sure we’re all thinking because none of us are stupid. You told Hyatt about your suspicions of more dirty cops and you get attacked. Twice. You tell IA a few days later and the shooting starts. Hyatt arranges for a safe house and now a cop is dead. For sure there is an internal BPD leak. But how do we know Hyatt’s trustworthy? How do we know that IA’s not dirty, too?’
Stevie met Clay’s eyes straight on. ‘I don’t. That’s why I’ve been searching myself.’
JD’s heavy sigh came through the speaker. ‘IA I can buy. But Hyatt, too?’
‘I don’t want to think it,’ Stevie said quietly. ‘I didn’t want to believe Silas was guilty either. But to save my child? Yeah, I’ll entertain the notion that Hyatt’s involved. I’ll at least be careful of what I tell him.’ She looked at the speaker. ‘I trust you, JD. With my life. With Cordelia’s life.’ He’d put his life on the line for her more than once, something Silas had never done. Something Hyatt had never done.
But something Clay had also done. Once again she met his eyes. He deserved to hear her say the words aloud. ‘And you, Clay. With my life and with the life of my child.’
His expression hardened, his eyes gone dark. For a moment he didn’t seem to breathe at all. ‘Thank you,’ he said, his voice nearly inaudible.
Stevie gave him a hard nod as JD sighed again, drawing them back to the matter at hand. ‘Stevie, who knew the scope of your personal investigation? Other than IA?’
‘Hyatt, of course. The records department, because I requested copies of the reports. The evidence room. The guy in the copy room. A lot of people,’ she realized. ‘Damn.’
‘That’s what I was afraid of,’ JD said grimly. ‘We’ll figure this out, Stevie. Until we do, I need you to keep your head low and stay alive.’
‘You can count on that,’ Stevie promised. ‘Thanks, JD.’
Clay disconnected, then shot her a wry look. ‘Which thing can he count on? That you’ll keep your head low or that you’ll stay alive?’
‘The second one. Until this is settled, my child is in danger. I’m not going to sit by, chewing my fingernails as I wait. But I won’t take stupid chances. That I promise.’
He nodded. ‘All right then. Let’s get to work.’
‘You’re going to need something stronger than cocoa,’ Tanner said from behind them and there was something different in his voice. All his previous censure was gone.
Stevie looked over her shoulder. ‘Bourbon?’
He shook his head. ‘Coffee. Extra strong.’
Clay pushed away from the table. ‘I’ll go get the suitcase with your files. Dad, you’d better make an extra large pot. This is going to take a while.’
Baltimore, Maryland, Sunday, March 16, 4.15 A.M.
Robinette was awoken once again by the soft beep of his cell phone. This time Lisa didn’t stir. He’d worn her out and maybe even left a few bruises. He rolled over and checked the text. Then stared at Westmoreland’s message in disbelief. SNAFU. 411. ASAP.
Westmoreland had failed, too? Jesus God, was the Mazzetti woman a goddamn cat?
He went down to his office to make the call, a concession Westmoreland had demanded, reasoning that if Henderson had been allowed to check in after the first failure, the second might not have happened. Whatever.
‘What the fuck, Wes?’ Robinette hissed.
‘It was a trap. She wasn’t in the safe house. The cops set up a decoy – a lady cop who looked like her along with Mazzetti’s partner, Fitzpatrick. A cop named Tony Rossi took the bait. Now the lady cop’s dead. Fitzpatrick shot Rossi, who’s now in ICU. The cops knew they had a mole and were cleaning house.’
‘How the hell did Rossi know where to find her?’ Robinette demanded. Tony Rossi was not his BPD source.
‘You said yourself that a lot of people wanted her dead. I guess Rossi’s source knew before yours did. Rossi must be a dirty cop who wanted to shut her up.’
Robinette drew a breath, forced himself to think. ‘What tipped you off that it was a trap?’
‘Nothing. I would have been the one caught, but Rossi beat me to it. I got there a minute after he did and when the bullets started flying, I ran. The area was fuckin’ crawlin’ with cops.’
‘Shit.’
‘Yeah, that’s what I thought when the bullets started flying. Is it possible that your source also tipped off Rossi? He gets paid by you and another cop?’
‘Double dipping? Or double-crossing,’ Robinette added darkly. ‘It’s possible. Once a cop goes bad, you can never really trust him. If he did double dip, and if Rossi lives to tell, then my source will be a suspect. The cops must have given out the false info, hoping to trap him.’
‘Can your source be traced to you?’
‘Not directly, but if they get any evidence from Henderson’s botched attempts they may get enough for a circumstantial case. I don’t want to risk it. Take care of him. I’ll send you his contact info.’
‘Okay. What about her?’
‘I still want you to take care of her, too.’
A slight hesitation. ‘Fine by me. Do you have any idea where Mazzetti’s hiding?’
‘No, but it’s likely she’s with friends. SA Grayson Smith has a place in Fell’s Point. His family has a compound outside of the city. If she’s there, you won’t get her until she comes out.’
‘Good security?’
‘Top of the line. Designed by a Fed with a knack for systems. Special Agent Carter is shacked up with ASA Daphne Montgomery. Both are friends of Mazzetti. Both are richer than God. If Mazzetti needed a place to hide or money to run, she’d go to them.’
‘I’ll check them out.’
‘Good. According to my source, the shooting at her house was witnessed by four people. One was Dr Townsend, the shrink she meets every March 15. One was Mazzetti’s partner, Fitzpatrick. The other two were males, not ID’d. Find out who they were. It’s likely she’s with one of the other friends here locally, but those two might have an angle. Townsend lives in Florida. There’s a chance Mazzetti may be hiding with her.’
‘If she has rich friends, one of whom is FBI, she could be out of the country by now. If she’s outside our borders, do you want me to follow her?’
‘Not until we know her long-term plans. If she runs, she’ll run someplace civilized. Just keep tabs on her. Especially on the kid. If we get the kid, Mazzetti will come to us.’
Chapter Nine
Wight’s Landing, Maryland, Sunday, March 16, 5.45 A.M.
‘Is she okay?’ Tanner murmured.
Standing in the kitchen doorway, Clay l
ooked over his shoulder to where Stevie huddled under a blanket on the living room sofa. ‘She’s asleep.’ He tapped the kitchen table where Emma had dozed off, a stack of folders her pillow. ‘Emma, wake up.’
Emma’s chin jerked up, her eyes wide and groggy. She blinked hard, then pushed her hair away from her face and sat up, her expression disgusted. ‘Hell. I fell asleep.’ She’d come down two hours before, lured by the smell of fresh coffee. Taking one look at the table covered with police reports, she’d rolled up her sleeves and pitched in – until her eyes had grown too heavy to hold open. ‘I only got through five reports before I conked out on you.’
‘It’s okay,’ Tanner said, pointing toward the living room. ‘Stevie didn’t last much longer.’
‘Poor Stevie. She must have been completely worn out to actually let herself sleep.’
Clay pulled the folders Stevie had been reviewing to his side of the table and sat down. ‘She didn’t “let” herself sleep. She just collapsed face forward.’ He’d tried to rouse her enough to get her back to bed, but she’d been unresponsive. ‘For a minute I thought she was unconscious.’
‘Well, if she could wake up enough to walk to the sofa,’ Emma said, ‘I’m sure she’s okay.’
‘She didn’t walk to the sofa,’ Tanner told her in a stage whisper. ‘Clay carried her.’
Clay shot his father a warning look. Tanner returned a clueless blink, making Emma smile. Clay wasn’t smiling, though, his chest still so tight he could barely breathe. He’d started to carry Stevie upstairs, but she’d cuddled into him in her sleep, making him want so much more than to hold her. Putting her in an actual bed? He couldn’t do it. So he’d settled for the sofa, trembling as he’d laid her down. He’d still be trembling if he hadn’t locked down every one of his muscles.
‘That was so sweet of you, Clay,’ Emma said, then frowned. ‘Wait. How do you know she wasn’t unconscious if she didn’t wake up?’
‘She opened her eyes long enough to look up at me when I covered her with a blanket, mumbled something about resting “for just a sec”, then rolled over and started snoring.’
But before she’d rolled over, he’d seen something in her gaze. A moment of unguarded acceptance. A flicker of heat. It was enough for now. Enough to let him know that when he managed to break down her barriers, he’d find her willing. Please God, maybe even eager.
‘All right,’ Emma said with a yawn. ‘How many more reports do we need to summarize?’
‘Stevie did most of them over the past few weeks,’ Clay said. ‘We got through several more before she fell asleep and probably have another five hours ahead of us. So far, no mention of Rossi. We need to search all of the notes from the cases for links. The link may be secondary, but Rossi is implicated somewhere. He’d have no reason to attack the safe house otherwise.’
Emma bit her lip. ‘You’re assuming Rossi worked one of these cases in an official capacity. He may not be called out by name in any of these reports. He might be protecting someone else.’
Clay considered it. ‘Possibly. Then that person would be a secondary connection.’
‘Like what?’ Emma pressed.
‘How are any two people connected? Work, family, friends, hobbies, geography. Maybe he and Silas had a past partner in common. Maybe they played for the same ball team or lived in the same neighborhood. Lippman got to these guys through their families. He threatened Silas’s kid and Elizabeth Morton’s, too. Maybe Rossi has a kid. Maybe their kids played on the same soccer team. Hell, I don’t know. But Tony Rossi’s in one of these files, somewhere. Whatever he did, it’s got to be big. Like major felony big. Attacking the safe house was a huge risk.’
‘You’re right,’ Emma said thoughtfully. ‘He had to know that he’d be up on murder charges if he got caught. Attempted murder at the very least if he’d tried and hadn’t managed to kill Stevie. As it is, he’ll be charged with the murder of the undercover policewoman.’
‘And now that he’s caught, it’s a matter of time before someone connects him to his crime,’ Tanner said. ‘Whether it’s through IA’s efforts or yours, he aimed the spotlight on himself by attacking the safe house.’
‘He believed the benefits outweighed the risk,’ Emma said.
Tanner shook his head. ‘It’s more likely that he believed he wouldn’t get caught.’
‘Which puts IA under even more suspicion,’ Clay said wearily. ‘When they were doing the investigating, nobody was getting attacked. When Stevie discovered the Lippman list was not inclusive, the attacks began. Rossi didn’t think he’d get caught when IA was holding the reins.’ He grimaced. ‘I want to believe IA was just incompetent and not corrupt, but we can’t afford to.’
‘I agree.’ Emma’s sigh was frustrated. ‘We could read reports till the cows come home if we don’t know what we’re looking for. It’s too bad all this stuff isn’t in a computer somewhere.’
Tanner lifted a page from one of the reports. ‘It is. It got printed out of the BPD computer.’
‘Well, yes,’ she said, ‘but that’s not what I meant. We can print out the reports, but it would be nice to ask the computer to find the connection for us.’
Clay felt like smacking his own head. He’d overlooked the obvious solution. ‘We can. This is the kind of thing that Alec does best.’ He dialed Alec’s cell from the secure line, unsurprised when the boy immediately answered, despite the early hour. ‘I need your help.’ He told Alec about the reports and what they were looking for. ‘We may be looking for a case that neither Stevie nor Silas worked on, one that Lippman contracted, but never added to his list. Can you work your computer voodoo?’
Alec chuckled. ‘No voodoo, but I can input all the names and keywords you found in the reports into a simple database. Add whatever I can get from their service records, Google as much about their personal lives as I can find and cross-reference. It wouldn’t take long, especially since you’ve got the reports summarized. Fax me the notes you have, keep summarizing, then send me the rest when you’re done. I’ll be in touch. Bye for now.’
Tanner gathered the notes. ‘I’ll fax them from my office.’ He went into what had been Clay’s mother’s dining room, now the office where he conducted his charter fishing business.
‘This should save us time in the long run,’ Clay said when he’d disconnected the call. He pulled the stack of reports they hadn’t yet read to the end of the table where he sat.
One folder stood out from the rest, its bright green color a contrast to all the manila.
‘Stevie kept starting to read that set of reports,’ Clay said, ‘but kept changing her mind.’
‘What’s in the folder, Clay?’ Emma asked.
Clay opened the folder and let out a breath when he saw the dates on the reports. ‘The first one was completed two weeks after her husband and son’s murder, the last about a year later. These were the cases Silas investigated while she was on bereavement and maternity leave.’
Emma’s shoulders sagged. ‘Is the report on the murders of Paul and Paulie in there?’
‘No.’
‘Good. At least she didn’t have to read it.’
Clay looked at her. ‘You really think she hasn’t?’
Emma sighed. ‘You’re right. I’m sure she has. But at least she doesn’t have to again. Give me the folder. I’ll go through them.’
Clay shook his head. ‘We can do it together.’
They split the green folder, each taking a half, working in silence until Tanner returned to the table. ‘Fax is sent,’ he said. ‘Pass me some of those reports.’
Clay did so with one hand, picking up the ringing phone with the other. It was Alec.
‘I got the fax,’ he said. ‘I should be able to turn this around in a few hours.’
‘Good,’ Clay said. ‘Because I have something else I want you to do when you’re finished. How much of that camera installation did you get done up at Daphne’s yesterday?’
‘About half, why?’
&nb
sp; Clay thought about Rossi shooting at the bed in the safe house, believing he was shooting a seven-year-old child. His very attempt might be enough to dissuade any further attacks on Stevie. As JD had said, all of BPD now knew there were more dirty cops – and a department leak. That might be enough to ensure her safety.
But Clay couldn’t afford to count on that. And if the attacks on Stevie continued, it would be safer for Cordelia to not be in Stevie’s proximity. Stevie might not agree, but he wanted to have a place ready in case she did. He’d promised he’d keep them safe and he didn’t break his promises.
‘I want you to go back to the farm and finish it today. Once the cameras are installed, the farm will be secure enough for Cordelia, and she can continue her therapy with the horses.’
‘Will Stevie come with her?’ Alec asked.
‘I don’t know yet. Get the farm ready for Cordelia, and we’ll figure it out from there.’
‘Okay. Will I be up at the farm on my own, or will I have help? If I have to do it on my own, it’ll take me more than another full day.’
‘You’ll have help.’ DeMarco and Julliard would welcome the overtime pay.
Clay’s father gave him a sharp look when he hung up. ‘You’re letting Stevie go?’
Hell, no. Clay kept his face as expressionless as he could, ignoring Emma’s shrewd stare. ‘I can’t hold her here. She’s free to go wherever she wants.’
‘That’s not what I meant,’ Tanner said. ‘And you know it.’
‘I know what you meant. And I meant what I said. She’s not a prisoner. Now let’s get back to work, please.’
Clay dropped his eyes to the report in front of him, but his mind had already begun working the logistics for moving Cordelia to an alternate location. By land or by water? He had to be realistic. Once whoever was after Stevie learned she hadn’t been in the safe house, they’d start looking for her elsewhere. That he’d been with her in her front yard would filter into the BPD grapevine sooner versus later. And though this place was secure, there were ways to connect this place to Clay through his parents, were someone determined enough.