Cavanaugh on Duty(36)
“I know my job, Kari,” Brenda reminded her good-naturedly.
The last thing she wanted to do was insult her new cousin-in-law and the Chief’s daughter-in-law to boot. She was just so eager to have this all finally come together, she was tripping over her own tongue—and stumbling across other people’s feelings.
“Sorry, Brenda,” she apologized. “I didn’t mean to insinuate that you didn’t.”
“Apology accepted,” she said, evidently taking it all in stride. Kari knew that the older woman was all too familiar with the emotional roller coaster that detectives rode while working their cases. “Oh,” Brenda added offhandedly, “and tell Esteban that I wish him lots of luck.”
Kari didn’t understand. “Why?” she wanted to know.
“I think he’ll understand” was all Brenda said before she ended the call.
“She find something?” Esteban asked the moment Kari put her phone away.
She realized that she was furrowing her brow as she pondered the other woman’s odd words, so she forced a neutral expression to her face. “Not yet—but she said to tell you that she wished you luck.”
Rather than ask her what Brenda meant by that, the way she assumed that he would, she saw Esteban laugh, compounding the mystery for her.
“Then you do know what she’s talking about?” she asked him.
He wasn’t positive, but he had a pretty good idea. “My guess would be that she thinks you come on a little too intense and dealing with that on an ongoing basis a minimum of five days a week might be...a little challenging for me.”
“I want to catch a serial killer before he winds up wiping out half the city,” Kari protested. “What’s wrong with that?”
“Not a thing, Hyphen, not a thing,” he told her with an easy smile she found hopelessly sexy.
Concentrating on her job was getting harder and harder for her, Kari thought. Especially when torrid memories of last night and the night before kept unexpectedly ambushing her mind.
She did her best to block those thoughts, but she was fighting a losing battle.
* * *
Shortly after she and Esteban finished eating the takeout they’d picked up for lunch, Kari’s cell phone rang.
For once, she didn’t immediately take out her phone. “Oh, God, if that’s someone calling with more bad news, I don’t think I can stand it,” she moaned.
“Well, it’s not the lieutenant calling,” Esteban told her. He nodded toward the man’s office. “He’s not on the phone.”
“Okay, maybe that’s a good sign.” Mentally crossing her fingers, Kari pulled out her phone. “Cavelli-Cavanaugh.”
“I think you need to come down here.”
She recognized the voice immediately and mouthed “Brenda” to Esteban. For once containing her all-consuming curiosity, Kari didn’t instantly bombard the other woman with questions. Instead she replied, “We’ll be right there.”
“It is another body?” Esteban wanted to know the moment she ended the call.
“No,” she answered. “From the way Brenda sounded, I think we’ve just had a breakthrough,” she said as she rose to her feet and all but flew out of the squad room.
Caught off guard, Esteban found he had to lengthen his stride just to catch up. “You know, for a little thing,” he told her once he was abreast again, “you can really move.”
Just for a second, she allowed herself a quick mental detour. Flashing a wicked grin, she said, “I thought you already knew that.”
His laugh made her gut tighten with hopeful anticipation about the night ahead. “I’m learning, Kari, I’m learning.”
She loved hearing him say her name, but she knew better than to admit that to him. If she didn’t say or do anything to scare Esteban off, maybe whatever it was that was going on between them would last awhile longer.
At least she could hope.
* * *
“We’re here,” Kari announced, walking quickly into the tech lab. The eager note in her voice was impossible to miss. “Are you going to make our day?”
“Quite possibly,” Brenda replied. She doled out the information in stages to allow the two detectives to digest it properly. “First off, I found your connection. Judge Rockwell, A.D.A. Watson and that defense attorney, Mel Samet, were involved in a number of cases—”
Kari could feel her stomach begin to sink. “How many?”
“Twenty,” Brenda told her.
Observing the exchange, Esteban scrutinized the look on Brenda’s face. There were traces of triumph there. That could mean only one thing. “How many cases with that guy on the jury?” he wanted to know.
Brenda laughed. “Cut to the chase, right? To answer your question, one.” As Kari started to inundate her with questions, Brenda held up her hand, asking for patience. “But that’s not the most significant part.”
“Go on,” Esteban urged. One glance at his expression told Kari that he was still expecting to hear the worst. She needed to rub off on him a little more, she thought. He’d be a happier man for it.
Brenda went over the details as quickly as possible, hitting only the highlights. “The trial involved a rape case. The teenager accused of raping this girl was tried as an adult, convicted and sent to prison. His father tried to get the verdict appealed. The kid kept protesting that he was innocent.”
“That’s what they all say,” Esteban commented darkly.
“True,” Brenda agreed. “But it turned out he really was. The real rapist was this repeat offender who could have been the kid’s twin. They caught him on another charge, the guy confessed and the original verdict was overturned.” She paused, looking distraught by what she was about to reveal. “The only problem was it was too late. The same day that the verdict was being overturned, the kid was killed in prison by another inmate.” Brenda glanced at them before adding the last piece of important information. “His throat was slashed.”
So much for thinking an ex-con with a grudge was killing the people responsible for sending him away. “But if the poor kid’s dead, then who’s killing all these people?” Kari wanted to know.
Before Brenda could answer, Esteban thought of his stepfather and said, “His father.”
Clearly impressed, Brenda turned to Kari. “I’d say this guy’s a keeper.”
“I’m leaning that way myself,” Kari told her. She meant to make it sound like a joke, but she wasn’t quite successful.
Suppressing a knowing smile, Brenda got back to business. “The kid’s father took it hard and swore revenge on the justice system,” she informed them. “I guess this body count was what he meant.”
It certainly looked that way to her, Kari thought. “You have an address for this man?” she asked the other woman.
“Would I let you down?” Brenda asked. Taking a page the printer had just spat out for her, she handed it to Kari. The page contained a copy of Ray Gibson’s DMV license. On it were his picture and his address.
“You’re the best, Brenda,” Kari declared as she folded the paper and slipped it into her back pocket. “C’mon, Esteban, we’ve got a killer to detain.”
They lost no time leaving the lab.
* * *
Ray Gibson’s apartment, once they gained access to it with the aid of a reluctant superintendent, was empty. Judging from the date of the newspaper left open on Gibson’s beat-up kitchen table, the man had left three weeks ago—exactly the time when the killings had begun.
Framed photographs of Gibson’s deceased son occupied almost every flat surface available, dating back to when he was a baby.
The entire apartment had been turned into a veritable shrine to the teen. There was a photograph of father and son—the only one as far as they could determine—on the cheap coffee table.
Esteban paused before it, picking it up and looking more closely at father and son.
“You find something?” Kari asked, coming over to join him.
He’d been studying the older man’s face, trying to remember where he’d seen it before—and then it came to him. “I’ve seen this guy before. He was the stenographer at my stepfather’s trial.”
She didn’t bother asking if he was sure. She knew Esteban well enough now to know he didn’t say anything that he had the least doubt about. Seeming reckless, he was actually as stable as a rock.
“I guess we can stop wondering how he got his hands on the names and addresses of those three jurors.” Her eyes widened as a thought hit her squarely between the eyes. “Oh, God.”
Esteban had just had the same thought. “He’s got the rest of the addresses.”
She nodded numbly. “We’re going to need those extra detectives that Lieutenant Morrow promised me,” she said. They had possibly a great deal of legwork before them and speed was of the utmost importance. “Immediately,” she added.