Текст книги "Alone in the Dark"

Автор книги: Karen Rose

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Текущая страница: 29 (всего у книги 49 страниц)

‘I just got a call from Marcus. Something’s gone down in his apartment. He asked for Vince and the CSU team.’

‘Shit,’ Deacon muttered. ‘You go. I’ll follow as soon as I can.’

‘I’m going with you,’ Kate told her when she’d hung up.

‘Then come. Now.’ Scarlett ran toward the entrance, calling Vince while she listened with her other ear to Kate calling 911.

Don’t be hurt, Marcus. Don’t you dare be hurt.

Cincinnati, Ohio

Tuesday 4 August, 8.45 P.M.

Marcus pocketed his cell phone, knowing that Scarlett would worry and sorry that he’d been so abrupt, but he needed to put all his focus on keeping Phillip alive.

But his friend’s blood was pouring from too many places. Marcus couldn’t isolate all the wounds. Not fast enough. I’m not doing this fast enough. The panic started to climb up his throat, but he shoved it back down and got in Phillip’s face again. ‘Don’t you die on me, Phillip Cauldwell. Don’t you dare die on me.’

Phillip’s eyelids flickered, but didn’t lift. ‘Bossy,’ he whispered. ‘Always so bossy.’

‘Damn straight,’ Marcus snapped, relief making his body so rubbery that he had trouble keeping himself upright. ‘Because I am the damn boss and don’t you forget it. What happened here?’

‘Guy followed me into the lobby. Big guy. Black. Dressed in black, too. Couldn’t see his face, had on a ski mask.’ Phillip’s throat worked, tears leaking from his eyes. ‘He killed Edgar. I tried to stop him.’

‘No,’ Marcus soothed. ‘Edgar’s not dead. The paramedics should be helping him right now. Tell me about the man. He forced you up here?’

‘Yes. Didn’t have my knife.’

Phillip lived in a shitty neighborhood and always carried a knife for protection. Lisette had tried a thousand times to get her brother to move away from that hellhole. Marcus had even given him a raise, but Phillip refused to move.

‘Left it in your other pants, huh?’ Marcus asked, trying to keep his voice light.

‘Yep.’ A grimace of pain. ‘Had to go through a metal detector in Mr Arrogant’s building. Sorry.’

Marcus frowned for a moment, then remembered his team’s meeting that morning. It had been only twelve hours before, but it seemed like an eternity ago. ‘Mr Arrogant’ was the corporate vice-president his team had targeted for investigation, the man who’d beaten his wife and child. The man Children’s Services couldn’t touch because he’d bribed everyone to lie. Phillip had posed as a courier that morning so that he could harvest the names of employees at the abusive vice-president’s office, hoping to find someone who’d tell the truth about the man. The shirt Marcus had cut off him was part of his courier uniform.

‘Don’t say you’re sorry. You’re alive. How’d you get away?’

‘He shot me. Twice.’ An agonized grimace twisted his face. ‘Dug a slug out with his knife. Hurt . . . like a bitch.’

What the hell? Why would the shooter dig the slug out – and while Phillip was still alive? ‘I guess it did,’ Marcus said grimly.

‘And no, I don’t know why he dug the slug out. I can tell you’re wondering.’ A flicker of a smile, then another grimace of pain. ‘Then BB attacked him. Bit his leg. He kicked her off, but it gave me the second I needed.’ Phillip drew a breath that rattled frighteningly in his lungs. ‘I took his knife and stabbed him. Got him in the bicep. Left side.’ Another rattling breath. ‘Stuck him like a fucker.’

‘Good for you,’ Marcus said fiercely.

‘But then he shot me again. In the gut. Dropped me like a damn rock. He took a bath towel. Wrapped it around his arm. Didn’t even take the knife out.’

‘So he didn’t leave any blood,’ Marcus said grimly.

‘No. But BB bit him hard.’ A desperate smile bent his lips. ‘So get the fucker’s DNA from her teeth. Get him for me, boss.’

‘You have my word. Did you hear him speak? See anything? The color of his eyes, maybe?’ Marcus could hear his own desperation and fought to shove it back.

‘I heard him swear when I stabbed him. Deep voice. Eyes, brown. Lashes, black. Curly. Eyelids, dark, a little lighter than the ski mask.’ He drew a labored breath. ‘He wanted the gut bullet back too. Tried to dig it out.’ A grimace. ‘With a kitchen knife. He took it with him. The knife. Not the bullet.’ Phillip’s eyes slid shut. ‘God, this really hurts.’

‘I know. Hold on a little longer. The ambulance is coming. Stay with me, Phil.’

Another smile, much weaker. ‘You’re a bossy SOB. You know that, right?’

‘Trust me, I know it,’ Marcus murmured, then looked up as footsteps thundered across his apartment floor. Medics and a cop appeared in the doorway, and Marcus stood up and stepped back. ‘Please help him.’

‘We’ll do our best,’ one of the medics said, gently pushing Marcus further out of the way. ‘You need to leave the room, sir. We need space to work.’

Marcus scooped BB up in his arms. She was dead weight, her limbs loose and floppy. ‘I’m Marcus O’Bannion,’ he said to the cop. ‘I’ve called Detective Bishop of the homicide division. No,’ he corrected himself. ‘She’s MCES, the CPD/FBI task force. She’s on her way. This is related to one of her cases. I’ll give my statement when she arrives.’

Cincinnati, Ohio

Tuesday 4 August, 8.55 P.M.

Ken sat at the desk in his home office, staring at the tracking software on his phone screen, dreading what he knew he had to do. Demetrius had still not called in, but he wasn’t dead. His car was in motion, though driving erratically. After being inside O’Bannion’s apartment building for only ten minutes, he’d left and taken a circuitous route to nowhere, it seemed. He hadn’t called. Hadn’t texted. Had simply driven around in circles.

Which meant he’d missed. Again. If he’d hit O’Bannion, he’d be calling to brag, all cocky and smug. Even if he weren’t embezzling funds, Demetrius had to go.

Like . . . permanently.

The prospect might have made Ken annoyed a few months ago. Hell, maybe even a few weeks ago. But Demetrius had fucked up royally. And if he is stealing money from me, I’ll make him sorry he was ever born.

A cup of tea appeared in front of him and he looked up to see Alice’s concerned face. ‘You didn’t eat any dinner, Dad.’

He switched off his phone before she could ask what he was looking at. He tracked her phone, too. Sean’s as well, but he didn’t want either of them to know it. Ken trusted both of them, but he wasn’t stupid. They were his kids after all. Had his DNA. They’d sell him out if the price was high enough.

‘I’m not very hungry, honey. But this tea will hit the spot.’

‘You’re worrying about Demetrius,’ she said, sitting in the chair across from his desk. She’d already dressed for bed, wearing a modest robe and ridiculous Tweety Bird slippers. Above the neck of the robe he could see the bright blue of her University of Kentucky sleep shirt. His girl had graduated magna cum laude from Vanderbilt with a law degree from Kentucky. She looked like an innocent child, but he knew that beneath that sweet face was the sharp mind of his heir apparent. Sean was too academic and nerdy, and he’d been coddled by that mother of his. Alice, on the other hand, was a damn shark.

‘Of course I’m worried,’ he said. ‘I haven’t heard from him in hours.’

‘So he missed O’Bannion again. Dad, this is getting ridiculous. This is a liability situation. He needs to go.’

‘We’ve been friends since we were younger than you. It won’t be easy killing him.’

She shook her head. ‘Demetrius should have just killed O’Bannion nine months ago when you told him to. Then we wouldn’t be in this situation.’

Ken sighed. ‘Possibly, but to be fair, we’d still have the Anders situation, which wasn’t his fault. Stephanie and her boy toy Drake still would have taken Tala out to play.’

‘But if the girl hadn’t met O’Bannion in the park, she wouldn’t have met him in the alley and gotten herself shot,’ Alice countered.

Ken acknowledged her point. ‘Yeah, you’re right. That was Demetrius’s fault too.’ He wasn’t going to mention the embezzled funds. Not until he knew for sure.

‘Let me at him,’ Alice said. ‘I’ll take care of it for you. Then you won’t worry that you’ll hesitate at the last minute.’

‘I might take you up on that, but not yet.’

‘This isn’t just an inconvenience, Dad,’ she said harshly, surprising him with her intensity. ‘Demetrius has allowed O’Bannion to operate without any boundaries all day long. O’Bannion runs a newspaper. They investigate stuff. I shouldn’t need to draw a diagram here. He nearly brought us down nine months ago when he exposed Woody McCord’s kiddie porn collection. If he’d dug a little deeper, he would have realized that he hadn’t even touched the tip of the iceberg with McCord. I think he’s digging again. He’ll have us all in jail the moment his paper hits the stands, and frankly, I don’t think you’d like prison, Dad. I know I wouldn’t, and I’m not going to allow anyone to put me there. Not even you. So wake up and stop treating this like it’s containable.’ She leaned forward, her eyes flashing fire. ‘It is no longer containable.’

He stared at her, tempted for the first time in a long time to strike her. ‘Do not talk to me that way, Alice.’

She blew out an angry breath. ‘You won’t listen when I talk softly. God knows I’ve tried. Do you think it was a coincidence that O’Bannion met the girl in that alley this morning? He knows what we’re doing and he’s building his story. Once he connects Chip Anders to Woody McCord, we are all toast. He may have already. Let me have O’Bannion.’

‘O’Bannion or Demetrius?’ he asked coolly.

‘Both.’

He shook his head. ‘Even if I agreed with you, Alice, I can’t just let you blow Demetrius away. Not until we get the records of all the business deals he has in place. I need to know his suppliers and existing contracts.’

‘Like?’ she pressed.

‘Like the trackers, for example. We’re down three and I don’t know how many more we have in inventory nor where he gets them.’

‘I do.’

Ken blinked, momentarily distracted. ‘You do?’

She leaned back in her chair and sipped her tea, once again the picture of outer restraint. ‘Well I don’t personally, but DJ knows. He’ll tell me.’

‘What makes you think Demetrius’s son will tell you? He’s loyal to a fault.’

‘Not as loyal as you think. We talk.’ She smiled. ‘Sometimes we do more than talk.’

Ken’s mouth fell open. ‘You and DJ? Since when?’

‘Since he grew up, and how,’ she said bawdily, then sobered. ‘But seriously, Demetrius told you that Reuben was screwing around with the suppliers’ wives and daughters, but I’ll bet he didn’t tell you about the money he himself spends, and what he spends it on.’

Ken waited, then gave her an impatient look. ‘Don’t be melodramatic. Just tell me.’

Alice mimed sniffing a line of coke off the back of her hand.

‘Cocaine? Demetrius? No. He’s an athlete. He wouldn’t do that shit.’

She laughed derisively. ‘An athlete? Do you know how many athletes “do that shit”? And don’t get me started on the steroids. How do you think he keeps up with those muscles? He’s not twenty anymore.’

‘How do you know any of this?’

‘I found the steroids in his sock drawer.’ She shrugged. ‘I snooped around Demetrius’s house after I let DJ fuck my brains out.’

He put his hands up in surrender. ‘Don’t.’

‘I found Demetrius’s stash.’ She softened her words with a smile. ‘You guys aren’t getting any younger, you know. Demetrius is pushing fifty. And so are you.’

Ken winced, knowing she was right. ‘Ouch. Should I be worried?’

She sipped her tea demurely. ‘Daddy, you won’t get a chance to get worried. If you threaten the business with stupid shit, I’ll take you out myself.’

‘Oof,’ he grunted placidly, but took no real offense. He’d expect no less. ‘I’ve been thinking about selling out my share and retiring to my own island.’

‘Maybe you should,’ she said kindly. ‘You’ve worked every day of your life. Why not enjoy the next forty or fifty years surrounded by half-naked women serving you fruity drinks?’

He laughed at the mental picture, pretty much a dead match for his own daydreams. ‘I’m thinking about it. Can you and Sean buy me out?’

‘Yes,’ she said seriously. ‘Unless you plan to charge something exorbitant.’

‘I wouldn’t dream of it. I have to sleep someti—’ The ringing of his cell phone cut him off. ‘It’s Demetrius.’

‘About time,’ Alice grumbled. ‘Put him on speaker, please.’

He pointed his finger at her. ‘Then you have to be as quiet as a church mouse.’ She mimed locking her lips while he answered the phone. ‘D. Where the hell have you been, man?’ he asked, even though he knew exactly where Demetrius had been.

‘Uh . . . it’s bad, Kenny. I’m hit. And I’m bleedin’. Maybe bleedin’ out.’

Alice’s eyes grew huge with consternation. ‘Idiot,’ she mouthed.

‘What happened to you?’ Ken asked.

‘Followed one of O’Bannion’s reporters, like we talked.’ Demetrius’s voice had grown slurred. ‘Shot him with the Ruger and was digging out the bullet—’

‘So that the wound would match the girl’s in the alley,’ Ken said impatiently. ‘And?’

‘O’Bannion’s damn dog bit me. Then the damn reporter stabbed me.’

Alice’s eyes rolled.

Ken kept his voice calm. He was seeing her point. ‘With what?’

‘My own goddamn knife,’ Demetrius muttered.

Ken rolled his own eyes. For God’s sake. ‘Did you bleed in O’Bannion’s apartment?’

A long pause. ‘I never said I was in O’Bannion’s apartment.’

Alice’s brows lifted. ‘Busted, Daddy,’ she mouthed.

Shit. She knows. She knew that he’d been tracking his leadership team.

Setting her teacup on his desk, Alice took her own phone from her pocket and began typing. She was intent on whatever she was doing, so Ken let her comment go for the moment, keeping his tone level. ‘His dog bit you, Demetrius. Unless you shot his employee in the goddamn dog park, his apartment seemed a reasonable assumption.’

Alice looked up from her phone. ‘Nice save,’ she mouthed, her expression dry.

He jabbed a warning finger at her and she shrugged, dropping her attention back to her phone. She must have found what she was looking for, because her expression abruptly became darkly furious, making him worried.

‘Oh.’ Demetrius gulped audibly. ‘Okay. That makes sense, I guess. No, I didn’t bleed anywhere. Not till I got to my car. I kept the knife in my arm till then. Didn’t want it to spurt if the little bastard hit an artery.’

If O’Bannion’s employee had hit an artery, Demetrius wouldn’t have made it to his car, Ken thought sourly. The man was such a hypochondriac. ‘Did it spurt?’

‘No, just a slow bleed. But it’s a mess. I can’t go to the hospital. Didn’t Decker fix up Reuben’s guy that got shot this morning?’

‘He did. Where are you, buddy? I’ll come get you.’

Alice’s mouth opened to protest, and Ken shook his finger at her again while he listened to Demetrius give his address.

‘Hold tight, D. I’ll be there as soon as I can.’ He hung up and glared at Alice. ‘Give me a little credit, kid. You’re not the only one with a brain, just because you have a damn law degree.’

‘What are you going to do?’

‘Go get Demetrius and make him tell me his suppliers and contacts.’

‘You think he’ll just tell you? Really?’

‘Really. Demetrius acts like a big stud with all his love of torture and beating people up, but he’s a whiny baby when it comes to pain. He acts like a paper cut is a double amputation. I’ll get what I need out of him after Decker makes sure he’s not going to bleed to death.’

‘Nice,’ Alice said approvingly.

His finger hovering over Decker’s speed dial number, he glanced up at her. ‘You knew about the tracking?’

‘Yeah,’ she said in a duh voice. ‘For several months now. You stopped asking me where I was when I went on dates. Sean, too.’

‘That’s why I didn’t know about you and DJ.’

She tapped her nose.

‘It doesn’t . . . bother you?’ he asked. ‘That I was tracking you?’

‘Yeah,’ she repeated, annoyed. ‘But we knew you were worried about your leadership team, so we just left our phones behind when we didn’t want you to know where we were.’

‘How did you know for sure?’ he asked, positive that he was not going to like the answer.

‘Sean hacked your phone. Took him a minute and a half. Before you even consider being soft on Demetrius, though, I want you to see this.’ She showed him her phone, and he heard himself gasp.

‘Fuck.’ It was the local TV news website, and the shooting at O’Bannion’s apartment building was the top story. Two victims en route to the local hospital with ‘grave wounds’. The building was on lockdown. It was good that Demetrius had gotten out when he did.

‘Exactly,’ she said. ‘He didn’t mention that he didn’t actually kill the employee, or that he shot the security guard, did he?’ She let it sink in, then turned to go. ‘I’ll get the room upstairs ready for him.’

‘Alice, wait,’ he said, and she paused mid-step. ‘You’re right. Both of them need to go. I’ll take care of Demetrius. O’Bannion is now officially yours.’

She gave him a hard nod. ‘Thanks.’

‘Two more things.’ He waited until she’d turned around to fully face him. ‘Are you still monitoring McCord’s partner?’ The partner who would have been exposed if Marcus O’Bannion and his Ledger team had continued to dig for the story nine months ago.

‘Yes. He seems to be in control and to have learned from Woody’s mistakes.’

‘Has he added any assets?’

‘A few, but not from us. We’re still taking a cut of his profits, though. Not huge profits, but steady, and there’s promise for future expansion. McCord’s partner welcomed Sean’s e-commerce expertise. Locating his server offshore and teaching him about proxies was also . . . appreciated. His appreciation increased the profit trickle to a steady flow. We haven’t made personal contact in months. He knows I watch his progress, but as long as the deposits are made every month, I don’t bother him.’

It had been an agreement among the team, to take a cut of the business that high school teacher McCord and his more socially prominent partner had successfully started and maintained. But then McCord had thrown his share away when he’d attracted O’Bannion’s attention for being a little too friendly with the students in his class.

Wanting to expose McCord’s lechery, O’Bannion had somehow hacked his way into McCord’s computer and discovered his collection. What O’Bannion had believed to be his collection, anyway. The newsman hadn’t realized what he was looking at, because most people didn’t have the stomach for those kind of pictures to begin with. To clinically analyze them required a specific kind of individual. Marcus O’Bannion was not that man.

But O’Bannion was a man who didn’t give up once he’d gotten the scent of a story. He had published the ‘truth’, exposing McCord’s proclivities to the disgust of the community. Luckily he hadn’t published the whole truth. Luckily Sean had been able to remove the more damaging files from McCord’s server before the police raided his house, took his computers and tossed his ass in jail.

We had to take a huge risk to ensure that good ole Woody McCord didn’t talk. It had been a stroke of fate that O’Bannion had been hospitalized at the same time, his life turned upside down by his own injury and the loss of his brother. Had he kept going, Alice was right. Ken and his entire team would be sitting behind bars.

‘And the second thing?’ she asked.

‘How will you get close to O’Bannion?’

‘I don’t plan to get close. I don’t care if anyone thinks it’s related to the girl this morning or not. Like I said earlier today, the man has so many enemies, nobody will know what hit him. I’ll make up a room for Demetrius, then I’ll focus on the O’Bannion problem.’

Ken dialed Decker as she left the room. ‘I need your medical services again,’ he said when the younger man answered. ‘Meet me in Eden Park near the Conservatory. I’ll be waiting next to Demetrius’s car. And bring some chloroform or something to knock him out with.’ He hung up and dialed Burton. ‘I need you to tow Demetrius’s vehicle to my garage. I want you to clean out the blood and then get rid of it.’

‘Yes, sir.’

Twenty-three

Cincinnati, Ohio

Tuesday 4 August, 9.05 P.M.

Scarlett found Marcus sitting on a sofa in a sleek, opulent living room, cradling a Sheltie in his arms. The dog wasn’t moving.

Oh no, she thought, her heart hurting for him even as her body trembled with relief. He was unhurt. Strong, healthy and alive. He looked up, met her eyes, and a new wave of fear passed through her. His looked stark and cold. Empty.

An officer stood behind him, his expression irritated. The man had his hand on his holstered service weapon as if he expected Marcus to bolt and planned to gun him down when he did. ‘Are you Bishop?’ he asked stiffly.

Scarlett glanced at the man’s badge. ‘I am Detective Bishop, Officer Towson. Stand down, please.’ She could see that there were people in the bedroom and knew from Dispatch that Marcus had made two calls to 911, one for the doorman, Edgar Kauffman, and the other for his employee, Phillip Cauldwell. The second ambulance had still been parked outside, so the medics weren’t done with Phillip yet. She looked over her shoulder at Kate, who’d stayed a step behind her the whole way. ‘Can you see what’s happening in the bedroom?’

Kate nodded and went to the master bedroom. Scarlett carefully sat next to Marcus.

‘Are you hurt?’ she asked, keeping her voice low and calm. As calm as she could, anyway, with her heart beating a hole in her throat.

‘I’m not hurt.’ He swallowed hard. ‘Phillip Cauldwell’s one of my team,’ he said, his normally beautiful voice flat and emotionless. ‘On the Ledger. Good kid. I’ve known him for years. His sister is Lisette Cauldwell. She’s also on my team. She’s one of my oldest friends. I need to tell her about Phil. I don’t want her to hear it from strangers.’ He fixed his gaze on the dog in his arms. ‘I also need a vet,’ he continued in the same flat voice. ‘He hurt her.’

He was in shock, she understood. Not physical shock, but emotional shock. ‘The person who attacked Phillip?’ she asked softly.

‘She bit him. She’s evidence, but I don’t want her in a cage. I want her taken care of.’ Another audible swallow. ‘She’s all I have left of Mikhail,’ he whispered, his voice breaking.

‘I understand.’ She placed her hand on Marcus’s forearm and gave it a light squeeze. ‘I called Sergeant Tanaka. He’s on his way with a team. I’ll ask him to call a forensic vet, okay?’ She made the call, then ran her hand gently over the dog’s coat. The animal whimpered softly, and Marcus’s hold tightened ever so slightly.

Kate came back in and crouched next to the sofa, looking up at Marcus. ‘Your friend isn’t dead. He’s hurt badly, though, but you knew that,’ she said honestly. ‘You stopped his bleeding, so he’ll have a chance.’

‘This is Special Agent Coppola,’ Scarlett told him. ‘She’s Deacon’s old partner. She’s just been transferred here, so she’s helping us with this case now. Deacon says you can trust her. Tell us what happened.’

He glanced at Kate before lifting his eyes to Scarlett’s again, his still stark and cold. He told them how he’d found the wounded guard in the lobby, how he’d found his apartment trashed. ‘He forced Phillip to bring him up here, but I guess he didn’t expect the dog to bite him or Phillip to stab him with his own knife.’

‘I guess not,’ Scarlett said softly. ‘I’m glad they took him by surprise.’

‘You were right,’ Marcus said, his voice as dead as his eyes. ‘I was the target this afternoon. They were shooting at me, not you. Maybe this morning in the alley, too. Maybe it’s been me all along.’

‘Not this morning,’ Scarlett murmured. ‘Tala’s killer tracked her to the alley.’

‘And Agent Spangler,’ he continued, as if she hadn’t said a word. ‘Maybe he’s dead because of me too. Maybe they’ve been following me all day.’

Scarlett wanted to sigh. His emotional shock was worse than she’d thought. He was taking responsibility for everything that had gone wrong this day. Although he didn’t sound paranoid. He sounded too coldly logical. Her gut had told her to look at Marcus’s enemies this morning, but she’d brushed the instinct aside, focusing on Tala as the target.

Because Tala had known her killer. And because Tala’s owner had been removed from his home, kicking and screaming. But then the killer came here. To Marcus’s home. To hell with sighing. Now she wanted to curse in frustration. I’m missing something important.

‘Who’s they?’ Kate asked.

‘I don’t know,’ Marcus said, his voice controlled and pulled taut at the same time.

‘I think we need to go over that list of yours,’ Scarlett said, keeping her voice soft, ‘because too many things don’t fit together. I need to call my boss. Give me a minute. I’ll be right back.’ She squeezed his arm as she rose, wishing she could brush a kiss over his lips or take him in her arms, but she knew that comforting him would have to wait.

‘Officer Towson,’ Scarlett said. ‘Bring the building manager up here, please. I want the security tapes for this building. I want to know if the shooter left, from which exit, and when.’

‘He’s gone,’ Officer Towson said. ‘I cleared every room.’

Marcus shook his head. ‘He’s gone from this apartment, but if he’s stabbed and bleeding, he may have holed up somewhere else in the building.’

‘I’ll get the building locked down and handle the door-to-door search,’ Kate said. ‘Hopefully he hasn’t taken anyone hostage, but we might find that someone saw something.’

Scarlett gave her a grateful nod. ‘Thanks. I have to give Isenberg an update and find someone else to lead the search for the women.’

‘No,’ Marcus said, grabbing Scarlett’s arm with a speed she hadn’t anticipated. He didn’t hurt her, but he’d startled her.

‘Hands off, buddy,’ Towson snapped, grabbing Marcus’s wrist and trying to yank it away. Marcus released her, but Scarlett knew that it was only because he didn’t want to hurt her.

‘I asked you to get the manager, Officer,’ Scarlett said, allowing the uniform to feel the sharp end of her tone. ‘Please do that. Mr O’Bannion is not a suspect. He is a witness, and we will treat him with respect.’

Towson gave her a dark look. ‘Yes, ma’am,’ he said mockingly and marched off, leaving Scarlett shaking her head. She could and would deal with Towson later. Now she sat back on the sofa, curling her fingers around Marcus’s wrist. ‘Why did you tell me no?’

‘Because you need to find those women. They can tell you who took Anders.’

‘Maybe. But the person who attacked you may be the one who took Anders. There’s something more going on here than we’re seeing. Too many unanswered questions and loose ends left flapping in the wind. I need answers, Marcus. You’ve been attacked three times today. If you’d been here when this guy forced his way in, you might be the one lying in there.’

He turned to give her a cold glare. ‘I should be. Phillip is innocent in all of this.’

‘I know Phillip is innocent,’ she said, gentling her voice. She still held onto his arm and now brushed her thumb over the fabric of his shirt to try to soothe him. It was all she could do with so many eyes watching. ‘But I’m allowed to be glad you’re not hurt. Now, we need to think this thing through. If someone’s been after you, why did they go after Phillip? Why not just wait for you to get home?’

‘Because Phillip stabbed him.’

‘I got that, and don’t worry. Sergeant Tanaka will do a thorough sweep of your place. If the shooter left anything behind, Tanaka will find it.’

‘Phillip said the guy wrapped his arm, left with the knife embedded in it. So no blood.’

‘Maybe not. But there’s still skin and hair. Tanaka is the best I’ve ever known. We’re going to let him do his job, okay?’

A stiff nod was her answer, and she squeezed his arm lightly again.

‘What I meant,’ she continued, ‘was why did he follow Phillip up? If he wanted you, why not simply wait till you came home?’

His stare never let up. ‘Maybe he wanted to force his way in to wait up here for me.’

‘Yeah, but . . .’ She shook her head. ‘He left a victim behind the desk, Marcus. He had to have known the guard would be discovered sooner versus later.’ She exhaled, suddenly understanding. ‘He was counting on the guard being discovered. He wanted you to come home. Wanted to draw you home.’

‘That’s how I see it,’ he said, his voice still cold and expressionless.

‘If we look at it that way, I can see how you think you were the target all three times.’ She sighed. ‘Let’s check the security tapes. See what they show. Until then, sit tight with BB. She might be our best lead.’

She stepped toward the door of the master bedroom, watching the medics work on Marcus’s friend as she dialed Isenberg. ‘It’s Scarlett.’

‘What’s going on at O’Bannion’s?’ Isenberg asked, foregoing a greeting as she often did.

Scarlett filled her in as Vince Tanaka came through the door with his toolbox filled with gadgets. He put it down and motioned that he was going to have a look around, so Scarlett stayed on the call with Lynda. ‘I need to follow this lead,’ she told her boss. ‘Can you get someone else to accompany my uncle to search for Mila and Erica Bautista? Zimmerman said he told you about finding the father and son, too. Maybe you can have them ready to talk over a speaker phone to Mila and Erica when you get close so that they don’t run away.’

‘That’s a good idea. I’ll ask Adam Kimble to accompany the searchers.’

Scarlett winced. ‘Is he ready?’ Having recently returned from a six-month leave of absence, Adam was looking calmer every day, but every so often Scarlett wondered about how much of his calm was real and how much was for show.

‘As ready as he’ll ever be,’ Lynda said in the tone that dared anyone to disagree.

Scarlett was not planning to take that dare, so she approached from a different angle. ‘Erica, the daughter, and John Paul, the son, are both minors. Perhaps it would be a good idea to have a therapist on hand to deal with any immediate issues they might have.’

A pregnant pause, then Lynda snorted. ‘Damn, Scarlett, you are good. Sure, let’s have a therapist there. If nothing else, it’s CYA, but they might be able to help. Who will you call?’

‘How about Meredith Fallon? She’s proven herself reliable and trustworthy.’ And Meredith had also shown an ability to calm Adam Kimble when he’d been agitated.

‘I like her. Call her. Is Vince there yet?’

‘Yes. He came in a minute ago.’