At First Light(Dr. Evan Wilding #1)(40)

“Really.” Criver folded his arms. “There were certainly a lot of people there. From greenhorns right on up to Sergeant Billings and me. Adrianne, perhaps next time, you could be a bit more selective about who needs to be there.”

“Sir, I—”

He waved his hand. “Anyway, our guys know not to talk. And Mr. Rhinehart signed a nondisclosure. Who I’m really wondering about is your semiotician.”

“Dr. Wilding is a professional. He would never leak a story.” Addie’s voice rang in her own ears. It sounded cold enough to freeze mercury.

“Are you very sure he’s not trying to get tenure or whatever it is those academics need? A little publicity might help his cause. Or maybe he just likes the spotlight.”

“He already has tenure. And he hates media attention. If anything, the fact that the newshounds have gotten the story means he’ll want to stay as far away as possible. Sir, it’s just ridiculous that you’d—”

With only a slight shift in his weight, Patrick stepped hard on her foot.

She fell silent.

“I’d what?” Criver asked.

Patrick kept his foot on hers. “I think a profile would be helpful. And it always looks good when the great institutions of Chicago work together for the good of the people. Chicago PD and the University of Chicago.”

Nicely played, thought Addie, although her toes were screaming.

Criver grunted and pushed to his feet, his eyes a pair of glittering rocks in the slingshot he seemed to be aiming at Addie. “Maybe. But some people can’t resist spilling their guts. Get him to sign an NDA.”

“He already has. It’s on file with the department. Same with his assistant, Diana Alanis.”

“And I want a list of everyone who was on scene. Sergeant Billings will follow through. I want the two of you to stick with tight protocol on this case. Nothing else, and I mean nothing else, gets out until I decide it’s time for me to make a statement to the press. Clear as mountain spring water?”

Patrick nodded. “Clear as my conscience.”

Criver rolled his eyes.

Addie curled the fingers of her right hand to keep from executing a sardonic salute. “We’ll be careful as a man in cargo pants walking through a den of thieves.”

“How’d I get stuck with the pair of you?” Criver opened the door and disappeared into the hall.

Sergeant Billings closed his laptop and glided through the door after the lieutenant, pausing long enough to give the two detectives an unreadable glance over his shoulder.

As soon as he disappeared, Addie bent to massage her toes through the thin leather.

“Son of a gun,” she said. “That hurt!”

“Not as much as losing your job.”

“The great institutions of Chicago work together for the good of the people,” she mimicked. “Good one, Patrick.”

“Yeah, well, if there’s anything Criver likes, it’s looking good to everyone above him.” Patrick picked up the extra folders. “Where do you think the leak came from?”

She straightened. “My money is on Rhinehart. The man’s a publicity hound. All those podcasts and TV interviews he does? Who else could it be?”

But Patrick pursed his lips. “Did Criver even fill him in on the case early enough for this to hit the evening paper?”

“He could have called him as he was leaving the scene. I’d bet my job on it.”

“You shouldn’t tempt the fates like that, Adrianne Marie. One of these days . . .”

“You don’t have to tell me,” she said. “There’s a target on my forehead.”





CHAPTER 14


Evan walked out of the room, immediately aware that Rhinehart had followed him. The runologist waited until Wao and the others had vanished down the hall, then stretched to his full height and leaned into Evan’s personal space.

“What was that about?” Rhinehart asked through gritted teeth.

Evan took a sideways step. “I believe it was two experts having a difference in opinion. As often happens in cases like this.”

“It was more than that. You’re trying to discredit me.”

“No.” Evan shook his head. “That was not my intent.”

Rhinehart made a sound in his throat. “The lieutenant brought me in, not you. I’m the runologist. You’re merely a man who thinks too much of himself. This gig is mine.”

“I believe that decision belongs to the police.”

The older man glared into Evan’s eyes for a few moments more before he spun on his heel and quick-marched away, headed toward the stairwell. Over his shoulder, he shouted, “Stay clear.”

Unsure what to make of Rhinehart’s animosity and his refusal to consider facts that diverged from his neo-Nazi theory, Evan watched the other man disappear down the stairs, the heavy tread of the runologist’s footsteps echoing up the shaft.

The door to the meeting room opened, and now Lieutenant Criver and Sergeant Billings emerged and headed toward the stairwell, their shoes squeaking on the rain-damp linoleum, Billings’s suit coat flapping as the shorter man worked to keep up with Criver’s long strides. They ignored Evan entirely.

Evan turned his back and studied the bulletin board hanging nearby while he waited for Addie to appear. The board was plastered with mug shots, notifications of changes in citation laws, and someone’s handwritten plea to remember to add a quarter to the jar for every cup of coffee. Underneath that, someone else had written, WHY PAY FOR MUD? GET IT FOR FREE ANYWHERE IN THE GREAT CITY OF CHICAGO.