The Heart of A Killer

Thirteen

Dante was parked in front when Anna drove past the precinct, so she parked on the street and walked up toward him.

He leaned against his car, arms crossed, his expression unfathomable behind his mirrored shades. Did he have to look so impossibly sexy in his worn jeans and tight T-shirt?

Women passing by on the street paused, looked over their shoulders and ogled. And why wouldn’t they? He was gorgeous. Well worth a second look. Even a third.

She wanted to kick them for ogling, which was ludicrous. He wasn’t hers. She had no claim on him. She didn’t know what pissed her off more-the women staring or her irritation over it.

He seemed to be oblivious to the stares he got, his attention fully on her.

“What are you doing here?” she asked, deciding to ignore his rock-god status from the sidewalk groupies mentally dragging their tongues over him.

“Figured you’d show up here eventually.” He pushed off the car and came toward her.

“I’m surprised you didn’t use your supercomputer to figure out my whereabouts.”

“I could have, but no point. You were with Roman.”

“How did you know that?”

“I called him when I woke up and saw you weren’t there. He told me you were meeting him.”

“Smart-ass,” she said, starting up the steps. “You talk to my captain yet?”

“As a matter of fact, we had donuts and coffee together this morning.”

She stopped, pivoted on the steps to face him. “You did not.”

The corners of his mouth lifted. “Did, too. He likes me. Actually, he really likes me since I brought him donuts.”

Captain Pohanski was a dick. He didn’t like anyone. He didn’t appreciate his precinct messed with. And he especially didn’t like the FBI, who he often referred to as a bunch of inept, interfering ass wipes.

“I can guarantee Pohanski doesn’t like you.”

“If you say so.” He waited for her to turn and go inside.

“You’re bullshitting me.”

He dragged his sunglasses down the bridge of his nose and gave her a look with those baby blues of his that melted her to the steps.

“You going in or not?” he asked.

She turned and went inside, grateful the air-conditioning was in prime working order today. Between the heat, the way he looked and those steamy looks he was giving her, she was hot. Plenty hot.

“Pallino.”

She cringed at the sound of Captain Pohanski’s bellow. “Yes, sir.”

“Get in here.”

She lifted her gaze to Dante’s, who took a seat at the chair next to her desk and stretched out his legs. “I’ll just wait here.”

“You do that.”

She took a slow walk toward the captain’s office.

Pohanski was a short round Pillsbury Doughboy of a man, with a ruddy complexion and jowls. His shifty, narrow eyes made him look more like a criminal than a cop. He was also a damn fine police officer who knew his shit. He had thirty years of perfect service under his belt and ran his precinct loosely, preferring to let his cops do their jobs rather than keeping his thumb on top of them. But you never, ever wanted to be called into his office, because if you got caught on his radar, you got an ass chewing you never forgot.

What the hell had Dante gone and done?

“Shut the door.” Oh, hell.

She did, and moved in front of his desk, which looked as if it had been burglarized. There were crumpled notes, Post-its everywhere-Pohanski didn’t believe in technology-pencils, two empty coffee cups, a mountain of files, one dusty desktop computer that wasn’t turned on and about fifteen note pads.

“This murder investigation you’re working? The two dead in the alley?”

“Yes, sir.”

“A real clusterfuck.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Could be a serial.”

“It’s looking that way.”

“Any particular reason you haven’t filled me in about it lately?”

“I was on my way to do that when you called me in, sir.”

“Uh-huh.” He tapped the pencil on the quarter of an inch of desktop that was visible. “So this Dante Renaldi, the FBI agent that’s insinuated himself into the case.”

“Yes, sir. About that…”

“Sharp sonofabitch. I’m a little pissed off about the government bureaucracy and the fact that he’s pushed himself onto this case, but he explained about George Clemons and Jeff Barrone and his relationship to them. In his shoes, I’d do the same thing. I hate the FBI and all their bullshit, but I like him.”

Anna’s fumbling excuses for Dante got caught at the back of her throat. “Sir?”

“Keep him close to you.”

Pohanski looked down and started scribbling notes onto one of his pads.

That was it?

“Uh, I’ll do that. Thanks.”

She turned to make a hasty exit.

“Pallino?”

She pivoted to face him. “Sir?”

“What’s with the roses and note to you?”

“Killer’s trying to piss me off.”

“Is it working?”

“It is.”

“Keep me informed. The media’s going to get their teeth into this case. I’m going to have the higher-ups crawling so far up my ass I’ll have my teeth cleaned. Get it solved and soon.”

“Yes, sir.”

Before he found something else to grill her about, she turned and got the hell out of there, shutting the door behind her. She headed back to her desk where Dante was still sitting, a smug smile on his face. She slid into her chair and gave him an evil glare.

“What did you do to my captain? Drug him with the donuts?”

“I have a way with people.”

She rolled her eyes at him. “No one has a way with Pohanski.”

Dante arched a brow. “A smooth talker like you can’t wrap him around your pretty little finger? Come on.”

“Screw you.” She booted up her desktop and started entering information on the case.

“So what did he say?”

Like she’d tell him. “He just wanted an update on the case.”

“Uh-huh. He likes me, doesn’t he?”

“He thinks you’re going to be a hindrance to this case and I should keep you as far away from it as possible.”

Dante laughed. “Liar.”

She shifted her gaze to him. “Okay, fine. He did like you. He wants me to stick to you like glue. What the hell did you tell him?”

“Bullshit, mostly. But all the right kinds of bullshit. In my line of work I’ve had to schmooze every type. I know how to work people to get what I want.”

She leaned back in her chair. “Is that what you’ve been doing to me? Working me?”

“You know better than that. You know me better than that, and don’t give me that crap about you not knowing me. You of all people know me better than anyone.”

She wanted to say she didn’t know him at all. There were parts of his past she didn’t know, but she was learning more every day. And she wanted to find out more-about where he’d been, what he’d been doing, what he’d been through all these years, and how all that had shaped him into who he was now.

Mostly she wanted not to care about him at all.

The problem was, she did care, and that pissed her off more than anything. She’d spent years building this great wall of I-don’t-give-a-shit-about-anybody. She kept watch over her guys because she owed them, but she didn’t love anyone. When you loved someone, they could hurt you. They could leave you.

She’d been really successful at keeping her heart under wraps all these years. Her job had helped with that, keeping her busy enough that she didn’t notice the loneliness. The panic attacks and memories of that night kept her from getting close to anyone. She guarded herself well.

Until Dante came back. Until this case reminded her she hadn’t been alone all these years. That she did have people she loved.

People she loved that she could lose.

And now it was like twelve years ago-her and all the guys again.

Only now they were one guy short. Jeff was dead. Someone hunted them all. Someone wanted them all dead.

“Hey, Anna?”

She lifted her head to see Roman coming into the squad room. “Yeah?”

“You need to come outside and see this.”

Puzzled, she and Dante headed out the front door, the same way they’d come in.

Roman inclined his head down the street where her car was parked.

Her heart stumbled when she saw the single rose and the card attached to the windshield wiper of her car.

“Goddammit.” Dante pushed past her toward her car with his long, lean strides. She and Roman hustled to keep up with him.

“I saw it when I was driving up,” Roman said. “I pulled in behind your car and already called for a forensics team.”

She nodded, but her focus was on Dante. He was pissed. She’d never seen him so angry-not since that night twelve years ago.

He pivoted in a three hundred sixty degree circle, hand on the butt of his gun as if he could spot the killer on this busy street.

“He’s not here, Dante.”

He shot her a glare. “You sure about that? It’s downtown, cars buzzing by, sidewalks crowded with people. He could be right goddamn here right now watching you. You need to go inside.”

Her dander up, she went toe-to-toe with him. “Don’t tell me how to do my job.”

He got closer to her. “And don’t be so hardheaded about this that you end up dead.”

Equally as furious with Dante and the killer, she pivoted, leaned over her car and examined the bloodred rose and white card tied to it with a red ribbon.

“Ballsy fucker, isn’t he?” Roman said.

“He’s pissing me the hell off.” Anna wanted to tear him apart. And she wanted to read that goddamn card. “Where’s CSU?”

“It’s going to take them a few minutes, honey. Let me get my kit.” Roman went to his trunk and popped it open, grabbed a few pairs of gloves and tweezers from his kit.

“We need photographs first,” Anna said, gloving up and grabbing Roman’s camera. She took a step back and shot some photos from a distance, then took a photo of her car in relation to the police station. Once she got the pictures, she nodded to Roman who had the tweezers in his hand.

“Envelope isn’t sealed.” He deftly pulled the card out of the envelope enough for them to read it.

Number two, Anna. Did I kill him good enough for you?

She jumped back as if she’d been burned. Angry tears pricked her eyes. She blinked them back, refusing to let him get to her. “Not for me, you son of a bitch. Never for me.”

“He’s playing you,” Dante said. “He’s trying to upset you.”

“You know what? It’s working. I am upset. He’s playing this game and killing people I care about. People you care about. And he’s doing it for me? I don’t fucking think so. He’s doing it for himself. For whatever his agenda is. And he’s trying to lay it on me. That’s bullshit.”

“Pohanski is coming out,” Roman said.

Anna whirled, then groaned. “Great. Just fucking great.”

Her captain came over just as the CSU team arrived. “What the hell is this?” he asked as he leaned over her car. “More love notes?”

“It would seem so.”

“Fucking hell.” Pohanski smoothed his hand over his bald head. “You light a fire under CSU and get this wrapped up in a hurry.”

“I’ll do that, sir.”

Pohanski stormed off. She instructed the CSU team to pull the flower and card, dust her car for prints and get the hell out of there. She put a couple uniforms on crowd control, and she, Dante and Roman headed back inside.

“I can’t even believe he put that on my car outside the police station.”

Dante slid into the chair next to Anna’s desk. “When you think about it, it’s a great idea.”

Anna’s brows shot up. “Yeah? Explain it to me.”

“Cops going in and out. Busy street with heavy traffic downtown, people not paying attention. Easy to get lost in a crowd and no one expects anyone to do anything out of the ordinary right outside a precinct station.”

“He has a point,” Roman said. “Hiding in plain sight. We’ve seen that plenty of times on cases.”

Anna laid her head in her hands. This case had just gone from bad to worse.

Roman stood. “I’m going to head over to the lab and light a fire under Forensics’ ass. We need tox results on Jeff, the results of those drugs both Jeff and George were found with. And now we have this.”

Anna nodded. “Thanks, Roman.”

Her phone buzzed. She pulled it and looked at the display.

“Oh, no.”

“What?” Dante asked.

“It’s Gabe. We never got around to telling Gabe.” She watched the phone buzz until the call went to voice mail. If she had to tell one more person about Jeff she wasn’t going to make it.

“I’ll take care of it.”

She met his gaze. “I can do it.”

“You go check out the autopsy. See if they find anything.”

She nodded. Neither task was going to be a pleasant one. She stood and so did Dante. “I’ll do that, thanks.”

He moved to leave.

“Dante?”

“Yeah.”

“About outside?”

He looked around the squad room, then smiled and brushed his knuckles across her cheek. “Just tension, Anna. Don’t worry about it.”

She relaxed. “Thanks.”

She knew she couldn’t face the autopsy. There was no way she could stand over Jeff’s body and watch them take him apart piece by piece as if Jeff hadn’t been a live person a day ago. She might be a coward, but she’d rather hear about what they found rather than see it for herself.

She dragged her heels heading over to the M.E.’s office, then finally went inside. They told her the autopsy was in progress, so she stalled for time, called Roman who was cooling his heels at the lab with nothing to report. She headed out to her car to finish up some paperwork. By the time she came back inside, it was over.

“You missed it,” Richard Norton said as he dried off his hands.

Perfect timing. Jeff’s body had already been returned to the refrigerated compartment, so she wouldn’t have to look at him, wouldn’t have to face him-or her own failure at catching whoever was doing this.

“I got tied up. What did you find?”

She followed Richard to his office. “Whoever did this had a much better time wailing on this guy than he did the one before. He was beaten more severely, especially around his face. Relatives wouldn’t have been able to recognize him if they’d been looking at him.”

She knew. She hadn’t known it was him at first. But the image of Jeff’s bloody, beaten face would remain with her forever.

More nightmares to look forward to.

“Cause of death was skull fracture and corresponding brain bleed. If you’d been to the autopsy, I could have showed you.”

She was glad she’d missed it.

“Plus his airway was swollen from being choked, his nose broken, ten ribs fractured, his lungs bruised…”

Anna had to buck up and listen to Richard go over the autopsy results as if Jeff were just another victim, instead of someone she’d known almost half her life. If she let it get too personal, Pohanski would pull her from the case. She could only hope that Jeff had been unconscious for most of it, that he’d fallen blissfully under and had died without knowing a lot of the pain.

That’s how she was going to think of it, anyway.

“Did you pull anything off the body? Prints, fibers, anything of note?”

“Prints, no. Pulled a few fibers from his skin and clothing. Those could have likely come from his house, or they could have come from the killer. Sent those off to the lab to be tested. He had marks all over him, obviously, from being beaten, but your suspect must be using thick gloves when he beats them and only the tip of a shoe for the kicking. We have no shoe imprints on the body, no fingerprints. He’s as clean as the first guy. Once we washed all the blood off, we found bruises, scrapes and cuts. He had a deep gash on his head. Your killer took the victim’s head and pounded it on the floor of the alley. Brain swelled up like a watermelon and filled with blood. Your vic didn’t have a chance. Like I said earlier, this kill was much more vicious than the last one.”

Anna grimaced.

“And then of course we have the same crude heart carving over his chest as the previous victim.”

“I need tox-screen results as soon as you can get them to me.”

Richard nodded. “Yeah, he was injected. There’s an injection spot on his right bicep. I saw in the file his bedroom had been wrecked and it looked like he’d been taken from there to the dump site. I can tell you for certain he died in the alley, so he was alive when he was taken from his house. By the time he was found in the alley he’d only been dead a few hours. I’ll tell the lab to rush the tox results for you.”

“Okay. Thanks, Richard.”

“You have any leads on the killer yet?”

She shook her head. “Nothing yet. This suspect is so clean he’s squeaking right through.”

He patted her shoulder. “You’re tough and tenacious, Anna. No killer is that thorough. You’ll catch him.”

“I appreciate the confidence. And yes, I will.”

She had to. She would. No one else was going to die.

Dante met Gabe at his condo and filled him in on everything that had happened last night. And today.

Gabe leaned over, his forearms on the knees of his jeans.

“Damn.” He shook his head. “I can’t believe Jeff’s dead.” He lifted his head and shot an angry glare at Dante. “The bastard took him from his house?”

“Yeah. Blood in the bathroom and the bedroom was a mess. Looked like a mean fight.”

“That should yield some evidence. Anna will be happy.”

Dante shrugged. “Maybe. First time he was Mr. Clean. This time, not so much.”

“Good. You don’t make a mess like that without leaving something of yourself behind.”

“Spoken by someone who knows something of crime scenes?”

Gabe lifted his lips and stared down at Dante’s badge. “Not saying a thing to the FBI.”

“Sorry about that.”

“Yeah. What the hell, man? Couldn’t you have said something?”

“Not really. Maybe. Fuck, I guess I should have. I’m so used to being undercover I just don’t tell people. And I’m never around people I know, so…”

This lying thing sucked. He was usually really good at it. This time, he was weaving so many lies even he didn’t know what he was saying. He should have just told the truth from the beginning.

Anna was right.

But then he wouldn’t have been able to become FBI guy, and that was going to help the case, so he’d live with it.

Gabe regarded Dante with something that looked a lot like mistrust. Dante wondered if Gabe was thinking he was the one being investigated. He hoped not. There was already time and distance between them, and he needed to keep Gabe close, for Anna’s sake.

“So you’re undercover right now?”

Dante smiled. “No. I got myself assigned to the local P.D. so I could help investigate George’s and Jeff’s murder.”

“But you’re on the government’s payroll.”

That part, at least, wasn’t a lie. “Yeah.”

“Huh. Can’t see you as a fed.”

“No? What did you see me as?”

“I dunno. Nothing on the legal side, that’s for sure.”

Dante laughed. “Thanks, Gabe.”

“Hey, just call ’em like I see ’em. There’s a reason you and me hightailed it out of here as fast as we could after the shit went down all those years ago. And it wasn’t because we were saints.”

“You’re right about that.”

“So for you to turn out to be FBI after all we’ve been through-man, you got lucky.”

“I know, right? I cleaned up my act, decided to stay out of trouble for a change. I developed goals and ambitions.”

“I had goals and ambitions, too. Only mine were a little different than yours.”

“Like what?”

Gabe gave him a knowing look. “Do I look stupid?”

“I think you can trust me, Gabe. Me of all people.”

Gabe laughed. “You say that like we’re supposed to know each other. We don’t know shit about each other anymore. I don’t trust you any more than you trust me.”

Dante leaned back, realizing Gabe was right. They knew nothing about each other anymore. His perceptions of the guys, and of Anna, were stuck in time-twelve years ago. They were all different people now.

He couldn’t help but be hurt that his onetime best friend and closest brother didn’t trust him at all. And that was on him. He’d have to live with that.

“You’re probably right. But you know what? I don’t give a damn if you trust me or not. The only thing I care about is keeping you, Roman and Anna safe.”

Gabe nodded. “I think that should top all our lists, especially Anna. Knowing her, she’s worried about all of us and not herself.”

“Likely.”

“Then we need to make sure that we all keep watch over her. We have the skills to keep her safe.”

“I’ll talk to Roman about it.”

“Okay.”

“In the meantime, I guess I don’t have to tell you to watch your back.”

“We said the same thing to Jeff last night. Didn’t help him much, did it?”

Dante frowned. He was beginning to wonder if any of them were safe. And who the killer’s ultimate target really was.

Anna dreaded her next stop, but she knew it had to be done. She didn’t bother to knock. Plus, she still had a key in case the door was locked.

She turned the knob and rolled her eyes. Of course it wasn’t locked. Her father still thought that just because he had a house full of weaponry, he was invincible.

“Dad? You here?”

“Out back.”

The slider was open to just the screen. She looked around the living room. Needed a good dusting, but he was keeping the clutter under control. Then again, Frank Pallino had always liked order in his environment, whether at work or at home. Minimal knickknacks and still the same furniture that had been here when Mom had been alive, which was why Anna’s tension level settled to a reasonably calm state whenever she came home.

As she walked through the kitchen, she smiled at the gold-and-white curtains over the kitchen sink, and the brick-yellow Formica tabletop with its shiny metal legs that had stood the test of time and who knows how many years. It even still had the matching chairs she remembered sitting at for years. That thing had to be an antique.

Her dad was out back with Rusty, his golden retriever. Anna had gotten Rusty from a shelter a few years ago after Dad had retired from the force, figuring he’d needed a playmate, someone to keep him active. They’d always had dogs when she was growing up. After the family dog, King, died when Anna was around twenty, Dad hadn’t gotten another. He’d insisted he did just fine without having to deal with an animal underfoot all the time. Anna moved out when she joined the force and she knew her father was lonely.

Plus, he’d put on some weight around his middle, no doubt from spending too many days watching TV and drinking beer. No amount of nagging on her and on her father’s physical therapist’s part had gotten him out of that damn chair.

She knew he’d been depressed. His life had been as a cop, and he hadn’t known what to do with it after he couldn’t be a cop anymore. Having to retire at fifty years old sucked. Her dad still had a lot of life in him, a lot of energy.

And then she’d gotten Rusty, only a year old and one rambunctious dog.

Oh, man, had her dad been pissed at her, had yelled at her and told her to take the damn dog away. But she’d refused. She’d moved into the house with her dad and the dog and told her father that the shelter had a strict no-return policy, and furthermore, she was going to give up her job and become his physical therapist if he didn’t start cooperating.

That had gotten his attention. And the dog wriggled his way into her dad’s heart fairly quickly. How could he not? Rusty was affectionate and sweet and learned fast once he found a family to love him.

Since her father wasn’t going to allow her to quit her job on the force, he reluctantly straightened up his act, started back on his therapy and welcomed Rusty into his house. Though Anna was certain he secretly fell madly in love with the dog at first sight. They’d been inseparable ever since and she credited Rusty with her father’s amazing recovery.

Now he took Rusty to the senior center a couple times a week. The older folks loved Rusty. And together Dad and Rusty did safety talks at the local schools.

Her dad had found things to do to stay busy. He felt useful now, and she was so grateful for that.

She stood at the door and watched Rusty go after the ball her father tossed. Rusty bounded back, ball in his mouth, making a game of keep away, but his dad grabbed the ball, dog spit and all, and tossed it again.

She laughed and stepped outside. “He can do that all day long, can’t he?”

Her dad turned to her. “As long as I’m willing to throw it.”

“I see you’re bending pretty good.”

“Yeah, the water therapy is helping.”

He came inside and Rusty followed, eager to see Anna, as always. She bent and petted the dog, who then bounded off to his water bowl while she and her dad sat at the kitchen table.

“What’s going on?” he asked, his keen eyes boring into her.

“How do you know something’s wrong?”

“Because I know you. There are worry lines across your forehead, plus you look like you haven’t slept in a week.”

“Good thing I don’t come to you seeking compliments about how great I look.”

He laughed and cupped her cheek with the palm of his hand. “You have boyfriends for that.”

“Sure, Dad.”

“So what’s going on? Problem case?”

She hesitated, knowing this was going to be tough. “There’s a lot I have to talk to you about.”

He leaned back in the chair. “Start at the beginning. I’ll listen.”

“Dante’s back in town.”

He frowned. “Since when?”

“A few days ago. George Clemons was beaten to death in the alley the other night. It was the same spot where I was attacked. A heart was carved on his chest. Here.” She placed her fingers where her scar was.

Her dad pushed his chair back. “Jesus.”

“It gets worse. While we were following up on that murder, Jeff Barrone was beaten to death last night. Same alley. Heart carved on his chest.”

Her dad’s eyes filled with tears. He stood. “Oh, shit, baby. Come here.”

She could be the strong, invulnerable detective all she wanted with everyone else, but that never held water with her dad. To him, she would always be his baby girl, and she knew it had destroyed him that night she’d called him from the ice-cream shop. He’d rushed over there and she’d known from the moment he got there that he was more devastated by what had happened than she had been.

Since her mom had died when she was six years old, she knew he’d felt as if it had been his duty to protect her, and he had failed that night. Not to her. There was no way he could be with her all the time, and no one could have foreseen what could happen. But she had seen the guilt on his face, and she’d have done anything to wipe that away.

He patted her back and stroked her hair, and somehow, she did feel better.

He stepped away and they sat again, but he held tight to her hand. She looked down where their fingers were joined.

Her lifeline. What would she do without him?

“I’ve been busy the past few days. Had some school functions with Rusty and some doctor appointments and therapy sessions. Haven’t even caught up on the news or read my paper. I didn’t know. Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I’ve been kind of busy myself, but knew you’d want to hear it from me.”

“Are you all right?” He swept his knuckles across her cheek, the concern on his face so deep it made her heart ache.

“Yes.”

“No one knows about the connection?”

“Of course not.”

“Maybe you should tell them.”

She cocked her head to the side. “Not gonna happen, and you know why.”

He sighed. “You shouldn’t have protected Dante that night.”

“And we’ve been over this a hundred times. Let it go, Dad.”

He shrugged. “Fine. So it’s obvious someone else was there that night. Someone saw the whole thing and identified all of you, and now he’s playing this sick game of cat and mouse and murder.”

She nodded. She wasn’t going to tell him about the note and flowers. Knowing her dad, he’d camp out at her house with his gun, putting himself at risk.

“Got any thoughts on who it might be?”

“I have no idea. Someone who was with Maclin, or maybe somebody he was meeting. Maybe it was even a person walking through the alley that wasn’t connected to him at all. Though they wouldn’t have known who we were.”

“Easy enough to find out if you try hard enough.”

“I suppose.” She’d pondered all the angles until her head throbbed.

“Why wait twelve years, though? Why file it away all this time?”

“That’s what’s bugging me, too. The only thing I can come up with is Dante. Gabe was gone for a while, and he came back. Now Dante’s back, which means we’re all here now.”

His father nodded and dragged his fingers through his hair. “That’s the only goddamn thing that makes sense. Jesus, Mary and Joseph, this is a mess. And you can’t tell anyone at the precinct about it.”

“I know.”

He lifted his gaze to hers. “Though you can if you need to.”

“No, Dad. I can’t and I won’t. Too many people could be hurt if I did. The guys…you. I’ll never tell what happened twelve years ago.”

He shook his head. “We should have never played it that way. I shouldn’t have let you talk me into keeping that secret.”

“We had to protect them. They saved my life.”

“And now someone’s trying to take theirs. We have to figure out why.”

“No. I have to figure out why.”

He took her hand. “You’re not in this alone, girlie. I might be retired but my cop brain isn’t. Go back to the beginning.”

“The Maclin case?”

“Yeah.”

“Dad, I’ve been over the case time and time again. Mainly because I wanted to know what had been done as far as investigating it. They’d developed no leads and after a while it went cold. And we know why.”

“So reopen it. Do some investigation into similar crimes, and lo and behold the Maclin case is gonna come up. He was beaten to death in the same alley, so you’ll have a legit reason for being in his file.”

She pondered his line of reasoning. “I was also working in one of the buildings then, so I was interviewed as a potential witness for his case.”

Her dad crossed his arms. “Convenient, huh? That’s why you’ll suddenly remember Maclin’s case from twelve years ago.”

She laid her head in her hands. “Lying sucks.”

“Yes, it does. But use it to your advantage now and bring in the Maclin kid’s file into your current investigation.”

She sighed. “I guess so. But there were no witnesses. I remember that much. And I lied and said I closed up shop and was out of there before he died.”

“It never hurts to look again, see if there’s anything you missed.”

“Okay. I need to get back to work.”

He stood and hugged her again, then held her out at arm’s length. “You get to the point you need to spill your guts about that night, you do it. You don’t worry about me or the guys, you just do it, okay?”

“I’m not going to tell anyone about that night. You’d lose everything. They’d be arrested.”

“They were juveniles then, honey. That was a long time ago and I doubt anything would stick now. They were defending you. And now they’re being targeted by a murderer. As for me… You don’t worry about me.”

She kissed his cheek. “You’re my father. I love you. I’m always going to worry about you.”