Her Last Word(42)

“This sucks,” Quinn said.

“I know.”

“You think Ricker will allow Kaitlin to attend? He’s a hard-ass.”

“He will, if I press it.”

Twenty minutes later, while Quinn followed up on a warrant, Adler pushed through the front doors of police headquarters and made his way to the captain’s office. He knocked.

“Enter.”

Adler found his new captain, Tobias Novak, standing behind his desk. He sported a clean-cut, Joe Friday kind of look, though the suit and strands of white hair didn’t jibe with a much younger face. Standing beside the desk was Trey Ricker.

Ricker’s dark tailored suit accentuated his tall, muscled frame kept trim by running. Light-blond hair was brushed off an angled face. “Adler. You’re looking better than the last time I saw you.”

“Thanks, Trey.”

Adler and Ricker had grown up in the shadow of the Country Club of Virginia. They both came from old money, and both had attended Saint Mathew’s from K through twelve as well as the University of Virginia undergrad and law schools. Adler’s plan had always been to go into the law. And he had. He just took a different route.

Ricker’s grip was strong, and his gaze didn’t skirt away. “Hayward’s attorney called me a few minutes ago and informed me he wants Kaitlin Roe there.”

“What do you think?”

Ricker cracked the knuckle of his thumb. “I hate dealing with this piece of shit, but if it will seal the deal, fine.”

Novak’s eyes narrowed. “Why’s an attorney like Blackstone bothering with Hayward?”

“They grew up together,” Adler said.

Ricker nodded. “Both went to Saint Mathew’s a few years behind Adler and me.” Looking at Adler, he asked, “You know the school is having their big fund-raiser this afternoon?”

“I already sent my check in,” Adler said.

“A little bird told me Blackstone is going to be there,” Ricker said.

“Interesting. Sounds like an opportunity for me to get better acquainted.”

“Small, small world,” Ricker said.

Novak cleared his throat as he glanced at a file on his desk. “Adler, do you really think there is a connection between the Ralston murder and the Mason missing person’s case?”

He still had no evidence other than the two victims ran in the same circles. Soon, he’d have to come up with more than a gut feeling. “I do.”

“What do we know about Kaitlin Roe?” Novak asked.

“Cops interviewed her multiple times. She was no Girl Scout in high school, a fact she readily admits. She moved back to Dallas, finished school, and took a job in the corporate world.”

“Until now.” Novak shook his head. “Hayward is facing the death penalty, and Kaitlin shows up to plead his case?”

The urge to defend Kaitlin was quick and unexpected. “Kaitlin is sober now and wants to make this right. Regardless of her motives, this is the first break in this case in fourteen years. I’d like to take a run at this.”

“Hayward couldn’t have killed Jennifer Ralston,” Ricker said.

“No.”

Novak shut his file as his expression radiated frustration. “The media is going to love this one.”

“He’s right,” Ricker said.

“Ricker, when did you worry about the press?” Adler asked.

Early in their careers, they’d had this conversation several times over a beer. What came first, the case or the career? Neither wanted to be the guy who put politics above a case.

Annoyed, Ricker shoved his hand in his pocket. “If Hayward can’t hold up his end, I’m going to make it my personal mission to bury him.”

“You’ll have to get in line behind me,” Adler said.

A muscle pulsed in Ricker’s jaw. “And Kaitlin Roe can be present if she stays behind the yellow crime scene tape.”

“Understood.”

“I’ll call Blackstone and work out the details,” Ricker said.



Adler left Ricker and Novak, knowing this was a fragile victory. If Hayward were manipulating them, this was going to cost him political capital that he’d planned to use to help Logan. Not to mention, it would cost Ricker more, who’d stuck his neck out for him.

Quinn came up on his flank as he moved through the bullpen. When she read his expression she smiled. “So, it’s still Let’s Make a Deal?”

“It is.”

“Good.”

He checked his watch. “Saint Mathew’s is having an alumni fund-raiser starting right about now.”

“And we care why?”

“Because Blackstone is supposed to be there.”

“It won’t look too good if we just show up.”

“If an alumnus shows, it wouldn’t raise a brow.”

She cocked her head. “Well, my mama and daddy couldn’t afford private school.”

He shrugged. “Mine could.”

“You’re a Saint M.’s kid?”

“I am.”

She laughed as she followed him to his car. “Jesus, Adler. You always gave off the rich-boy vibe, but I figured it was an act.”

He slid behind the wheel. “Maybe you’ll make some new friends.”