Cavanaugh on Duty(35)

“I’m a Hyphen,” Kari reminded him, falling back on the nickname she was growing accustomed to. “That gives me leeway,” she told him. She saw that he was looking around, first to the right, then to the left. “What are you doing?”

“Checking the parking lot for witnesses,” he told her.

“You’re afraid someone’ll overhear and turn me in?” she asked, amused. That wasn’t like him, she thought. But she liked the idea that he was being protective—even if she could take care of herself.

“No, I just don’t want anyone to see.”

She didn’t understand. What was he talking about? “See what?” she asked.

Satisfied that the parking lot was empty, he turned back to her. Despite the way he felt, Esteban didn’t want to risk compromising her reputation in any manner. She was the one who mattered in this.

The only one who mattered.

“See me do this,” he answered.

Then, before she could ask just what “this” was, Esteban surprised her by leaning in and kissing her.

With very little effort, the kiss could have blossomed and led to a great deal more, but for now it had to hold him, to satisfy him with the knowledge that there would be more later.

“You, Fernandez,” she rasped as he drew back, leaving a space of less than six inches between them, “are really just full of surprises.”

He smiled then and she could feel the effects go straight into her bones. “Good. Nothing worse than being predictable and dull.”

“No chance of that,” she assured him, doing her best not to sound as breathless as she was.

As it was, it took her a moment before she felt that her knees were strong enough to hold her up. Only then did she get out of the car.

Even so, it was only by concentrating on the breakthrough she felt they had made on the case that she was able to put one foot in front of the other and walk up the back steps to the precinct’s rear entrance rather than float up.

She had, she told herself, a good feeling about this. All of this.





Chapter 17



“You’re back,” Brenda Cavanaugh said when she looked up from her work the following morning and saw Kari and her partner walking into the tech lab. “And you brought a friend,” she noted as they headed straight for her. “Esteban, right?” she recalled with a smile. “Not sure if you recognize me, since you were introduced to a lot of Cavanaughs on Saturday, but we met at the wedding.”

Esteban nodded, politely returning her smile. “I remember. How are you doing?”

Brenda shifted her eyes toward Kari. “I don’t know. That depends on what your partner here asks me to do.”

Kari became the soul of innocence. “Can’t I just be visiting?”

Brenda choked back a laugh, then said, “No.”

“Okay, you’re right,” Kari allowed, then added with emphasis, “this time. But I’ll drop by just to say hi next time,” she promised.

“I’ll look forward to it,” Brenda quipped, then went on more seriously, “Meanwhile...?”

Kari had learned a few tricks since her academy days and knew how to phrase things so they were presented in the best possible light—and were almost impossible to turn down. “Brenda, how would you like to save the Aurora Police Department hundreds, maybe thousands of man-hours?”

Because her skills put her in such demand, Brenda had evidently heard it all when it came to detectives trying to wheedle their work requests to the top of the pile. But the receptive look she shot Kari implied that Brenda was willing to hear her out.

“So far, so good,” the computer tech responded. Then, humor curving her mouth, she bluntly asked, “Exactly where is this going?”

Kari took out her folder containing a copy of the photographs of all the victims with their names and either former or present occupations written beneath their images. Since there’d been no one available in the tech lab yesterday when she’d come up with her theory, she and Esteban had made the rounds questioning the judge’s and the A.D.A.’s neighbors, as well as several of their separate friends, starting with Greer and Blake.

Just as she had suspected, absolutely no one had seen anything or anyone who aroused their suspicions. The workday had ended in frustration.

The night, however, had been a whole other matter. There had been no frustration there, just a late dinner and a great deal of lovemaking. No matter where she and Esteban wound up going from here, she was always going to cherish what amounted to an utterly exquisite weekend.

But it was a new day now, the beginning of a new week, and she wanted to bring down this serial killer so badly she could almost taste it. And although Esteban said little on the subject, she could sense that he felt exactly the same way.

“I—we,” she corrected, glancing toward her partner, “need you to cross-reference something for us. We need to find out what case A.D.A. Philip Watson pleaded before Judge Hal Rockwell.”

Brenda couldn’t help but laugh. “You make it sound so simple, but that’s not one case. My guess is that we’re looking at a whole bunch of cases,” she said, pulling the folder closer. Her eyes swept over the other photographs and she raised a quizzical eyebrow.

Which was when Esteban told her, “There’s more.”

Brenda sighed. “Of course there is. Go on,” she said, waiting to be filled in.

“The case in question involved this man serving on the jury.” She moved the third victim’s photograph closer to Brenda. “And it’s possible that these two people were also on the jury.” He moved the photographs of the first two victims and had them join the third victim’s. “But we’re really not sure yet just how these two fit in with the rest—other than being this serial killer’s victims.”

“Well, I’ll say one thing for you,” Brenda declared. “Your request is colorful, not to mention challenging.” She looked over the information that Kari had brought her in the folder. “Okay, this is going to take me a while.”

“Not nearly as long as it would take us if we had to wade through all the boxed archives in the courthouse basement,” Kari assured her. “Thanks, Brenda, we owe you.”

“That’s what they all say. Someday, I intend to collect. Big-time,” she told them, pretending to put them on notice.

“It’ll be worth it,” Kari assured the older woman as she and Esteban left the tech lab.

* * *

Kari had exactly fifteen minutes to feel good about her hunch before her cell phone began ringing. She knew without looking that it couldn’t be Brenda getting back to them so soon.

And she was right.

Taking her phone out, she had just enough time to answer before the voice on the other end of the call said something that had her jaw dropping.

“So soon?” she cried, disheartened.

She’d really hoped that, with Brenda’s help, they could get to the killer and stop him before he honed in on his next victim. But the serial killer had beaten them to the punch.

Again.

She closed her eyes, fighting back a wave of frustration.

“Yes, sir, yes. Fine.” She opened her eyes again, slanting Esteban a quick glance. “He’s right here with me. Yes, right away.” With the call abruptly terminated, she slipped her phone into her pocket. “We’re not going up to the squad room,” she informed him.

“Another one?” It was a rhetorical question. He’d guessed the content of the call by the look on her face.

“Another one,” she echoed. “The bastard’s upping his game much too fast. Of course,” she added, trying desperately to find a silver lining to this, “the faster he kills, the more likely he is to make a mistake.” And when he did, she was going to get him. Big-time.

“That’s not much of a comfort to his victims,” Esteban said brusquely.

Kari sighed, her frustration mounting at a prodigious rate. “I know.”

* * *

The moment they found out the latest victim’s occupation, Kari immediately got back in contact with Brenda. This had to mean she was right, she thought excitedly.

As soon as she heard the line on the other end being picked up, she immediately started talking, struggling to sound relatively coherent. “Those court cases you’re cross-referencing...” she began.

“And hello to you, too, Kari,” Brenda said with a laugh.

“Hello,” Kari returned the greeting belatedly. “Add Attorney James Bell to that list I gave you earlier.”

There was silence on the other end for a moment and then Brenda asked quietly, “Is he...”

It didn’t take a genius to know what the rest of the computer tech’s question was. “The latest victim, yes,” she responded, then said more eagerly, “There can’t be too many cases involving all three of those men. Once you’ve found those, you can use the reluctant juror to complete the weeding-out process.”