The Bitter Season (Kovac and Liska, #5)(102)

“Will do.”

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” The booming voice belonged to Gene Grider.

Nikki turned and looked at him as he barged into the room like a charging bull, knocking the door back so hard it bounced off the doorstop and nearly hit him on the rebound.

“I told you to leave the family alone!” he shouted at her.

Nikki stared at him, confused. “What? What are you talking about? What’s wrong with you?”

“He’s in the wrong office, for starters,” Kovac said, getting up. “Get out of my war room, Grider. No one invited you to the party.”

“Butt out, Kojak,” Grider snapped, coming forward, red-faced. He looked like his tie was too tight, choking him. He jabbed a thick finger at Nikki. “I told you to leave the Duffys alone!”

Nikki squared off with him, leaning up toward him on her tiptoes. “And I told you to butt the hell out of my case! You’re not the boss of me, Grider. My case is the murder of Ted Duffy. I’m damn well going to speak to his family and anyone else I want to. It’s called an investigation.”

“Well, great f*cking job!” Grider shouted at her. “I hope you got what you needed. Jennifer Duffy tried to kill herself last night.”


*



“I HAD A CONVERSATION WITH HER,” Nikki said, still in a state of disbelief. Her gaze skimmed around the lieutenant’s office, looking for something to focus on. She settled on a picture of Mascherino with a granddaughter about the age Jennifer Duffy was when her father was killed.

“I asked her normal questions. It was very casual. I was persistent, but I didn’t bully her. Is she going to make it? What did she do? Pills?”

“Sleeping pills and antianxiety meds. A neighbor heard her fall in the middle of the night and thought someone was breaking in. They called the police.”

“Oh my God,” Nikki whispered, rubbing her hands over her face, relief and shock and guilt all tumbling through her at once. “Thank God.”

“She’ll recover, hopefully no liver damage,” Mascherino said. “She apparently told her mother over the phone earlier in the evening that you came to the library and she didn’t want to speak to you.”

Nikki rolled her eyes. “I’m a cop. No one wants to speak to me.”

“She said you threatened her.”

“That’s a lie! I did not threaten her. She didn’t want people to know who I was or why I was there, but she left the building with me voluntarily. Ask anyone at the coffee shop—I didn’t have a gun to her head! We had cappuccinos, we talked. When she decided to stop talking, I left her alone. I tried to call her later. I had a few more questions. The call went to voice mail.”

The lieutenant sighed. “Nikki, she was nine years old when her father died—”

“And she knows something, or she saw something,” Nikki insisted. “I’d bet the farm on it. That’s why she went off the deep end—I opened the door to her past, and she didn’t want to look at what’s on the other side,” she said. “I need to know what she knows.”

“You’re not getting anywhere near her,” Mascherino said. “None of us are getting anywhere near her. The Duffys have circled the wagons.”

“Right,” Nikki muttered. “Barbie Duffy had all the motherly love of a reptile when Jennifer was a kid. Now, all of a sudden, she’s f*cking Mother Earth.”

The lieutenant’s face pinched at her language. “Stay away from Jennifer Duffy.”

Nikki heaved a sigh. Now she had to wonder at the sudden show of family solidarity. Maybe she was off the mark. Maybe what Jennifer knew had to do with the family, and Jeremy Nilsen and his father were superfluous to the story.

Grider and Big Duff both had warned her away from the family. Barbie Duffy hadn’t wanted the investigation into her husband’s murder reopened at all.

“This is the strangest murder investigation I’ve ever been a part of,” she said.

“I guess Cold Case isn’t so boring after all.”

“Not so far.”

Her head was buzzing from the possibilities—or from Kovac’s coffee, she wasn’t sure which. What she did know was that unless she could find Jeremy Nilsen, she was now left with one key to the whole thing: Evi Burke.





33


“How’s my princess?” Eric asked as he came in the house, sweeping Mia off the floor and twirling her around, to her delight. “Were you a good girl while Daddy was at work?”

“I was very good, Daddy!”

Evi watched them with a sickening mix of love and fear. She loved them so much it terrified her. She was still trembling from last night. It all worked out for you . . .

“And how’s my queen?” Eric asked as their daughter scampered away in her pink tutu, twirling her glitter wand. He turned to Evi with a smile that faltered.

“Are you all right?” he asked, slipping his arms around her. “You’re as pale as a ghost.”

“I’m feeling a little off this morning,” she said, forcing a weak smile. “It’s nothing.”

“I hope it’s a little something,” he whispered in her ear, hugging her gently.

Evi closed her eyes against a sudden rush of tears. They had been trying to get pregnant again for a while now—not such an easy feat at her age. They had both been thrilled at the idea of a second child. Now she saw that wonderful dream in her mind falling under a dark cloud. She tried to tell herself she was being ridiculous, but the fear was stronger than logic.