Clay was there because he’d promised to watch her back. He didn’t intend to slough off now.
Hyatt got out of his car, the slight frown on his face deepening when he saw Stevie’s face. ‘Are you all right?’
‘Sure, just peachy. Where’s Detective Bashears?’
‘Parked on the next block so that he can keep an eye on Culp’s back door. I just texted him that we’re going to knock and that he should be ready in case Culp tries to run.’ Tugging his suit coat into place, Hyatt started up the front walk. Stevie followed and Clay brought up the rear, shielding her just in case one or both of their intruders were waiting.
Clay didn’t see any obvious threats lurking, but he did see several plainclothes cops. ‘How many men do you have here watching, Hyatt?’ he asked when they were on the front porch.
‘How many do you count?’ Hyatt asked, his grip on the doorknocker a white-knuckled one.
‘What, bad guys or plainclothes cops?’
‘Either. Both.’
‘Three plainclothes sitting in three unmarked cars. A rifle on the roof of the house across the street. And the lady with the stroller.’
‘Tell the lady,’ Stevie added, ‘that she’d be more believable as a mother if she’d glance into the stroller with an occasional “Goo-goo, gaga”.’
‘I’ll make sure she gets the feedback.’ Hyatt knocked hard. ‘You sure you don’t want to work for me, Maynard?’
‘Very sure.’ As soon as this was over, he planned to run as far away from Baltimore Homicide as his legs would carry him.
‘I thought this was all hush-hush, Hyatt,’ Stevie said.
‘It is. Those aren’t my people. With the two dead cops on Maynard’s living room floor and the death of the officer at the safe house last night, Assistant State’s Attorney Yates wanted to take no chances. Those are Maryland State cops. The stroller mama is their lieutenant.’
When no one stirred inside the house, Hyatt knocked again, louder. ‘Culp, it’s Hyatt. Open up.’ But no one came to the door and the seconds became minutes.
‘The TV’s on,’ Stevie said. ‘And I saw a car parked in the garage when we walked past.’
‘There are blinds on the windows,’ Clay said. ‘How did you see in the garage?’
‘I’m short. From my angle I could see up through the slats. It’s a maroon minivan.’
‘Culp drives one,’ Hyatt said. ‘An old Dodge Caravan.’
‘Could be a decoy,’ Clay murmured. ‘Do you have a warrant to enter the house?’
‘Not yet,’ Hyatt said. ‘We’re waiting on the judge to sign it. That’s the other reason for the State coverage. If he’s guilty, we didn’t want him getting wind of it and bolting.’
Clay crouched behind the azaleas so that he could squint under the window shade, then hissed a curse. ‘If that’s Culp, he ain’t boltin’ anywhere. Someone’s sitting in the recliner in front of the TV. I can see the toe of a man’s boot and a whole lot of blood on the carpet.’
‘Shit.’ Hyatt made three quick calls, the first to request EMS and the second to the woman with the stroller. She immediately set toward them at a brisk jog, her team falling in behind her. The third was to Bashears, telling him to join them.
‘Didn’t JD approach the house to look inside?’ Stevie asked.
‘No.’ Hyatt clenched his jaw. ‘He wanted to, but Yates didn’t want to tip our hand prematurely and he wanted me to be the one to confront Culp. I was on my way over here when I got the call about Hollinsworth and Locklear. When Yates heard about them, he insisted on the State coverage before we went in. This is a neighborhood. We need to avoid collateral damage.’
‘Lieutenant Hyatt?’ the stroller mama asked.
‘Culp’s either hurt or dead.’ Hyatt nodded at the door. ‘Open it.’
Two State cops kicked the door in and the stroller mama led the way, her weapon at her side. Her team fanned out and a few seconds later she gave the all clear to Hyatt. ‘He’s dead.’ She pulled on a glove and touched Culp’s arm. ‘Close to full rigor. He’s likely been dead for ten to twelve hours. The ME can tell us for sure.’
Hyatt made another call, canceling the ambulance and requesting the ME. ‘Lieutenant Levine, this is Detective Mazzetti and her . . .’
‘Bodyguard,’ Clay supplied tersely. Beside him, Stevie flinched.
Levine gave him a speculative once-over before turning back to Stevie. ‘After the recent attempts on your life by BPD officers, I can’t say I blame you for outsourcing, Detective.’
Clay shifted so that he could look around Levine. Scott Culp slumped in his recliner, listing to the right, a bullet hole at the base of his skull. ‘Ten to twelve hours ago was shortly after Rossi killed Officer Cleary in the safe house,’ Clay said. ‘This was an execution.’
‘Somebody’s tying up loose ends,’ Stevie agreed. ‘But it wasn’t Rossi. He was in the hospital. Could have been Thing One or Thing Two from Clay’s house. Or the drive-by shooter. Or the restaurant sniper.’ She closed her eyes wearily. ‘Or anybody else who wanted me dead.’
‘Thing One and Thing Two?’ Levine asked.
‘I’ll explain,’ Hyatt said. ‘First, let me take this call.’ He answered his cell, then went still. ‘Are you sure, JD?’ His shoulders sagged. ‘Then bring him in. I’ll meet you in Interview.’
Slowly Hyatt hung up and pocketed his phone. He looked like he’d aged twenty years in the last twenty seconds. ‘Lieutenant Levine, would you do me the favor of sending two of your team to the home of Carla Culp in Potomac and escorting her to my precinct? We need to know what she knows about her ex-husband’s past activities.’
‘Have your assistant send us the address and we’ll get on it,’ Levine said. ‘Are you okay?’
‘I am all right,’ he said. ‘I have Mrs Culp’s address. I’ll text it to you. Excuse me.’ He stepped away from Culp’s body and made another call. ‘Carter, it’s Hyatt. I need Brodie over here at Culp’s. Yesterday. And those two agents you had canvassing Maynard’s neighbors? . . . Yeah, Novak and Coppola. Have them contact JD Fitzpatrick. He needs their assistance. Fitzpatrick has the address. Thanks, Carter.’
Stevie walked to Hyatt, put her hand on his arm. ‘What’s happened?’
Hyatt’s sigh was heavy. ‘Rossi woke up, realized he’d been caught killing a cop and decided to cooperate. He told JD that he hadn’t seen or heard from Scott Culp in years.’
‘He’s lying,’ Stevie said. ‘Culp tipped him off about the safe house. Culp had access to the information. And Culp is dead. Rossi’s lying, otherwise, Culp would still be alive.’
‘He had access, but Culp’s not the one who tipped Rossi off. I don’t know why Culp is dead, but it had nothing to do with the safe house. Lieutenant Levine, can you secure this scene until Agent Brodie from VCET’s CSU arrives? We’re going to have to decide who has jurisdiction over the investigation into Sergeant Culp’s murder.’
‘Where are you going?’ Stevie asked as Hyatt started for the door.
‘To notify the families of Hollinsworth and Locklear.’ Hyatt looked defeated.
‘Sir. What else did JD just tell you?’
Hyatt paused, his hand on the doorknob. ‘Rossi said that the leak came from my assistant.’
Stevie caught her breath, growing pale herself. ‘No. He’s lying. There is no way—’
‘Yes, there is, Detective,’ Hyatt snapped. ‘Now, if you’ll excuse me.’ He turned on his heel and left Culp’s house, headed to his car.
Stevie started after him, leaning on her new black cane. ‘Sir. Lieutenant.’ Hyatt kept walking and she kept following. ‘Peter. Dammit, stop. Please.’
Hyatt halted when he got to the car he’d left parked on the curb. Stevie caught up to him, grabbing his arm and pulling him to look at her.
Clay had followed, and now hulked over her, providing the cover she’d neglected to provide for herself. ‘Stevie, you can’t stand out here in the open. Come on.’
Stevie let Clay pull
her away, but she kept her eyes on Hyatt’s face as Clay hurried her backward toward the Escalade. ‘You don’t believe Rossi. You can’t.’
‘I don’t want to,’ Hyatt bit out. ‘But I do. I dropped breadcrumbs, giving different information to a few select individuals because I needed to know who I could trust. Rossi knew something I’d told only one other person.’
Stevie stumbled. ‘You suspected your assistant? You suspected Phil?’ She had to raise her voice, because Clay had her almost in the Escalade.
‘I suspected everybody!’ Hyatt shouted bitterly. ‘Somebody, multiple somebodies have tried to kill you on multiple occasions. So I suspected everybody.’ With that he got in his car, executed a sharp U-turn in the street, and took off in the opposite direction, leaving Stevie open-mouthed and breathing hard. Stunned.
Clay bodily lifted her, shoving her into the SUV. ‘Get in, goddammit.’ He slammed her door and ran around to the driver’s side, keenly aware that every place they found a body meant someone who had Stevie in his or her sights had been there first.
Hell of a way to draw her out into the open. He jerked his door open. ‘You have to start—’
Stevie lunged at him, grabbing the collar of his shirt, diving under the steering column and pulling him down with her – just as the passenger window pebbled. A split second later a blast of pain burned down his back. He was thrown forward, his forehead smacking the steering wheel.
He was aware of her moving, scrambling back to her side of the car.
‘Get in!’ she shouted.
‘Get down!’ he snarled, but it was too late. Stevie cried out, pressing her hand to her side. Clay hurled himself behind the wheel, flooring it as he pulled his door shut. ‘Are you hit?’
‘I’m okay. It hit the vest.’ She showed him her hand. ‘No blood. Just a bruise.’
‘How did you know he was there?’
‘The State sniper slid off the roof. I figure the shooter was hiding behind the house next door and shot up. That gave him a clear shot at us.’
If she hadn’t pulled him down, the bullet that had transformed the passenger window into a thousand pebbles of glass would have gone into his head. I’d be dead.
Clay hunkered down, cursing when he saw the cul-de-sac a few houses up. ‘Dead end. We can stay here or turn around and drive past Culp’s house again to get out of here.’
‘We’re still in his range if we wait here. I guess we’re about find out how bullet-resistant Joseph’s ride really is.’
‘I guess we will. Hold on, honey. This might not be fun.’
Chapter Sixteen
Baltimore, Maryland, Sunday, March 16, 3.00 P.M.
Clay did a hard U-turn, throwing Stevie’s body against the wall of the SUV.
‘Are you okay?’ she asked him urgently.
‘I think so. Second time in two days some bastard has shot me in the damn back.’
‘You’re wearing a vest, too?’ she asked and he nodded.
‘I took it out of my bedroom closet when Brodie gave me the grand tour of the wreckage that used to be my stuff.’ He crunched his body down, so that he was barely able to see over the steering wheel. He floored it. ‘Here we go, past Culp’s house.’
Stevie braced herself for more gunfire, yet still flinched when it came. Her side of the Escalade took the hits, two to the front window and one to the back fender.
Clay kept his foot on the gas, easing his body up to better see through the windshield. Then hunkered down again when the back window took the final hit.
‘I’d say Carter’s ride fared okay,’ Stevie said. The glass had pebbled around the points of impact, but the windows had remained intact. ‘I’d give it four and half stars out of five.’
He laughed. ‘Sorry,’ he said. ‘It’s the adrenaline. I don’t know about you, but I’m tired of getting shot at.’
She straightened in her seat and buckled up. ‘Me, too.’ Lightly she touched Clay’s back, relieved when her fingers came back clean. ‘You’re not bleeding, either.’
‘Always good to know.’
‘Did you see if the sniper was moving?’
‘No, but one of the plainclothes guys was moving around the houses, toward him. They know he’s down. I’m sure they’ve already called for help.’
‘Hyatt needs to know,’ she said, dialing her boss’s cell phone.
‘I want to know about what’s going on with his assistant,’ Clay said.
‘Let me call him, and then I’ll tell you. I gotta say, that outburst of his at the end went a long way in convincing me that he’s clean.’
‘Me, too,’ Clay admitted.
She held up a finger. ‘Wait, it’s ringing.’
‘What is it, Detective?’ Hyatt asked, sounding unhappy that she’d called.
‘Clay and I were just shot at.’
‘What? When?’
‘Right after you took off. Clay had shoved me into the SUV when the sniper the State cops had on the roof went down. Clay got hit in the right shoulder blade and I got one in the ribs, but we’re both in Kevlar. We’re not bleeding, but we need to be checked. I don’t know the status on the State Police sniper.’
Clay gave her a coldly forbidding look. ‘No. I don’t need to be checked out.’
‘Yes. You do. You could have a fractured scapula. And I tore two stitches from yesterday’s fun with guns.’ Actually she’d done that when they’d been in bed earlier, but she wasn’t going to mention that now. ‘Lieutenant, can you get us a secure entry to the ER?’
‘Of course. I’ll call Levine and get status on her marksman and I’ll get the ER ready for you. Stevie, I’m sorry I shouted. This thing with Phil has me rattled. I didn’t plan to trap him. I didn’t actually suspect him, specifically.’
‘Maybe it’s not true, sir. Maybe Rossi did lie.’
‘No. JD didn’t believe Rossi at first, but Rossi said he’d prove it. Told JD to get the cell phone they’d taken off him, that he had voicemails and texts from his source. When JD called the lab and asked them to verify, he was told that they couldn’t find the phone. It wasn’t with the other items taken from Rossi’s person and his vehicle.’
‘That doesn’t mean Phil took it.’
‘Phil was in the lab this morning, Stevie. He told them that he was picking up a report I’d asked for. But I hadn’t asked for anything. JD’s on his way to Phil’s now. If he finds the phone, we’ll have proof.’
‘What if Phil’s thrown Rossi’s phone away?’
‘Then we’ll search his house for the phone he used to make the call. I’ll let you know after I notify the families of Hollinsworth and Locklear.’
Suddenly exhausted, Stevie hung up and slumped into the seat. ‘I am not stupid, but I keep doing stupid things like standing in the street where people can shoot at me.’
‘You were stunned,’ Clay said. ‘Why? Who is Hyatt’s assistant?’
She hesitated, then shrugged. He’d find out sooner or later. ‘Phil Skinner.’
Clay’s gaze whipped around to focus on her face. ‘Skinner? The Skinner who was a homicide detective two years ago? The guy who was wounded by Nicki’s killer?’
‘None other.’
‘Holy shit,’ he muttered, shaking his head. ‘Goddamn. Why would he betray you?’
Stevie sighed. ‘He’s not the same man he was two years ago, Clay. Pain and loss can change people. But I wouldn’t have expected this of him.’
‘Pain and loss.’ He shook his head again. ‘This is my—’ He cut himself off before he said fault. ‘I caused his pain and loss. Me. I can’t fucking believe this.’
‘You didn’t shoot him two years ago, Clay. And you’re not responsible for him turning.’
‘I didn’t pull the trigger. But it’s still on me. If I’d told you who killed Nicki when you came asking . . .’ He was trembling, his grip on the wheel white-knuckled. ‘You could have caught that sonofabitch before he shot Skinner.’
Two years before, Phil Skinner had been guarding
JD’s wife, Lucy, who’d been the victim of a psycho, bent on revenge. After killing Clay’s former partner, Nicki, the man had grabbed Lucy. When Skinner had pursued, the killer had fired, critically wounding him. JD had killed the shooter, but too late to help Skinner. He’d been on disability for months before returning to a desk job, never regaining his full strength.
Stevie now knew how that felt.
‘I don’t know that we would have caught Nicki’s killer before he shot Skinner, and neither do you,’ she said levelly. ‘You didn’t know how many people that asshole had killed.’
‘I knew he’d killed one. That should have been enough. I should have come forward.’
‘Shoulda, coulda,’ she said sadly. ‘I still play that game. You can never win it.’
He gave her a sharp sideways look. ‘You had nothing to do with Skinner getting shot.’
‘No. But I had everything to do with my son getting shot.’
He blinked. ‘What?’
‘It was my night to pick up Paulie, but I was working late, trying to get all my reports finished before I went on maternity leave. I asked Paul to pick him up from day care. That’s why they were both in that convenience store that evening.’
‘Stevie . . .’ He sounded devastated. ‘That in no way compares to what I did.’
‘Yeah, well, my brain chooses to disagree. At any rate, “shoulda, coulda” is a game you can’t win. You gave me the information you possessed when you realized the scope of the guy’s crimes. That has to be enough.’
‘It’s not. I knew the night before who’d killed Nicki. I should have come forward.’
‘Okay, fine. Yes, you should have. But even if you had, we probably wouldn’t have gotten him right away. And truthfully, Skinner was off his game that day. He’d been up all night with a sick baby. Lucy was lured away when she was told that someone she loved was injured, but Skinner should have been able to catch her. That she ran faster than he did was telling.’
‘Lucy wouldn’t have run into danger to begin with if she’d known what I knew.’
‘True. Okay, ace, maybe you can win “shoulda, coulda”. But even if you were responsible for Skinner being shot, you are not responsible for him leaking information to Rossi.’