Blood Score Part 20

Cronan glanced at Bryce, a look that reminded the guy he knew his secret about him having an affair with Olivia. Loyal, my a.s.s.

Ethan went on. "...he's also got a bit of a temper. I mean, how was I to know that McFarland would have the nerve to show up at my concert and demand to come backstage?"

"He had a pa.s.s and claimed you or someone slipped it under his door," Angel said. "It looked as legit as mine, but his name wasn't on the master list. Do you know how he would've gotten a real pa.s.s?"

Angel directed her question to Ethan, but her eyes fixed on Bryce and Rachel.

"No way that it came from me, I can a.s.sure you." Chandler shook his head. "Other than that, I have no idea."

"So as far as you know, no one would've anonymously slipped a backstage pa.s.s under his door, but purposely left him off the control list to...embarra.s.s the guy in public?" Angel pressed with a theory of her own. After Ethan gave her an emphatic no, she asked, "When did you tell Rachel about your encounter with your neighbor?"

He smiled at his partner's question. She'd phrased it as if she knew the answer. Angel hadn't given Rachel Blevins an option to lie.

"I called her, and she came over while Bryce was with me." He spoke to his friend and said, "Sorry, Bryce, but neither one of us thought you'd leave without causing a scene. We didn't want you to get into trouble...just for being a friend. With McFarland only one door down, Rachel wisely insisted she come to cool Bryce down and escort him off the premises. That's it. That's what happened. I didn't hear about the argument backstage until Bryce said something later."

"Is that how you remember it, sport?" Cronan turned to Bryce.

"Yeah. I got nothing to add." The guy shrugged. "Guess I should sign up for an anger management cla.s.s."

"h.e.l.l, take two. Couldn't hurt."

"What can you tell us about McFarland and how he died?" Rachel asked, her eyes shifting between him and Angel.

"It's an unrelated case. We can't discuss it," Cronan said.

"Basically you're saying it's none of our business." The publicist glared at him.

"That's not what I said," he told her. Cronan kept his game face unreadable. He had no intention of giving her any way to read between the lines.

"I heard he might've committed suicide. Did I have anything to do with that?" Chandler asked. "The guy gave me the creeps, but I hate to think he took his life because...of me."

The violinist's question could've been a ploy to garner sympathy, but he looked too messed up over it. Cronan had a pretty good notion what Angel saw in the guy. Now wasn't the time to let his guard down, but he couldn't throw the kid under the guilt bus if he didn't have to.

"Whatever went on in McFarland's head was on him, not you," he said.

Ethan dropped his chin and nodded. He seemed satisfied with his answer, and Angel shot him a faint smile, too.

"Was McFarland the guy stalking Ethan?" Rachel asked. "Did he have anything to do with Olivia's murder?"

If Cronan felt an ounce of sympathy for Chandler, his supply had run out when it came to Rachel. The woman made a leap in logic that even her client noticed.

"We're not jumping to any conclusions yet," he said. "Nothing links him directly to her murder, no."

"Nothing?" she asked. "Are you sure?"

He had deliberately lied about there being no connection to Olivia's murder. The prepaid burner phone was his lie by omission. The press hadn't been told about the phone link. Only those closest to the investigation-and the killer-knew about it.

Rachel didn't look happy.

"But I do have something to share with you about McFarland. Something that pertains to you, Ethan," Cronan said. "Since the three of you apparently have nothing to hide from each other, I don't suppose you'd object to me sharing with your closest friends."

"I don't like the sound of this." Rachel gripped Chandler's hand and stroked his arm. That gesture sent a ripple of worry across the musician's face.

"I told you that we couldn't make a connection to McFarland as your letter stalker and that's true, but the guy had a small shrine in his home dedicated to you," Cronan said. "Apparently he'd been taking photos of you and had memorabilia from when you were a kid."

"That room he took me into, when I was there." Chandler winced. "The b.a.s.t.a.r.d acted weird when he took me into it. He must've gotten a laugh out of me sitting in the middle of it all...like a d.a.m.ned trophy."

"Yeah, no doubt, but there's more." Cronan hesitated. "The guy had surveillance cameras in your home. There were live feeds, but we found one video recording of you and suspect we'll find more. We think he's got more stashed at another location."

"What?" Chandler's eyes grew wide. He looked as if he couldn't catch his breath. "He recorded me here...in my home?"

"This can't be happening." Rachel shook her head and couldn't take her eyes off Ethan.

Bryce stopped pacing. He locked eyes with Rachel, but kept his mouth shut.

"He had cameras installed that had live feeds from several rooms," Cronan said. "Your studio, living room...bedroom and bathroom."

"My bedroom...and bath?" Chandler shut his eyes tight. If he had faked his reaction, he'd done a convincing job of it.

Cronan saw from his partner's expressions that Angel felt the guy's pain. She stood her ground and resisted any personal show of compa.s.sion so she could stick to their game plan, but he could tell that holding back had taken a toll on her.

"The recording I saw was taken of you in your shower...to be exact. Another camera targeted your bed," Cronan said, his voice low.

"I gotta fix this," Rachel muttered.

"How?" Chandler pulled his hand from Rachel's and raked it through his dark hair. "The damage is done. The only thing worse would be..."

He stopped and got up, heading to his bar for a drink. The last time Cronan saw the guy pour a drink, he did it as if he could see, but this time he stumbled and looked lost in his own home. He fumbled for a gla.s.s until Rachel had to help him.

Angel's reaction made it harder for Cronan to watch, too.

"He...actually recorded me?" The musician clutched his gla.s.s and tossed back a gulp of whatever Rachel had poured him.

"Like I said, I saw one recording, but I think the guy had more. He had the equipment and given his collection of memorabilia, he seemed the kind of guy who liked mementos," he said. "We're pretty sure he has a stash that he keeps elsewhere, and we know where to look."

"Anything you find on Ethan, they could ruin his career," Rachel said.

"Until we find these alleged recordings and view them, how do you know they would ruin him?" Cronan asked.

"I don't, but it's my job to worry about his image. He could become a laughing stock online if any of them hit YouTube."

"Oh, G.o.d." Chandler looked sick. He poured another drink.

"It doesn't matter what he recorded. If the media gets a hold of this..." Rachel shook her head. "I can't believe this is happening."

Bryce looked as if he wanted a stiff shot of something. Being in rehab, he couldn't, but that didn't stop him from wanting a booze bullet to the brain.

"Whatever you find, wherever you find it, you have to keep me in the loop on this," Rachel said. "It's my job to..."

Gabe interrupted her.

"And it's my job to find Olivia's killer. Any recordings could be pertinent to her murder or help solidify McFarland's motivation."

"But you said McFarland's suicide didn't have anything to do with Olivia's death," the publicist argued, raising her voice.

"I didn't say he committed suicide." Cronan got her attention. What he said shut her up, and she looked as if she'd been gut punched. Bryce looked pale and sat down.

"You said that you're looking for those recordings now. Where?" she demanded. "If he didn't keep them at his home, where else are you looking? We have a right to know."

"We respect your concern over what this could mean for your client," he said. "But we have to do our job."

"I might be blind, but that doesn't make me invisible. I'm still here." Chandler tossed back another jolt of liquor. "Unfortunately."

"Look, I can say that we're running down a lead that McFarland had property on Lake Zurich, a house that he got from an inheritance. Detective Ramirez is heading up there to do a little recon later this afternoon."

"Why is she the Lone Ranger? Isn't this important enough?" Rachel crossed her arms.

"It's a timing thing. I've got other leads in town to tie up on McFarland, and the chief wants a report." Cronan shrugged. "If she finds something worthwhile tonight, I'll bring the crime scene techs up there tomorrow. We think it's likely that he kept his residence in the city clean of his illegal activities, since his surveillance gear was well hidden, but if he had digitals, they'd probably be at his lake house. If we find anything, we'll give you a courtesy call, but any recordings will have to be viewed and may become evidence, depending on how the medical examiner rules on the McFarland death."

"Will she be the one viewing the evidence?" Rachel asked. "Or will we have to worry about the whole police department having access to potentially sensitive material?"

"If she finds any video at his lake house, she'll look at them first before I bring in a team," he said. "But I can't make any promises if it turns out they pertain to McFarland's death or Olivia's murder."

"But if Ethan's neighbor committed suicide, there'd be no need to bring these videos up," Rachel said. "They wouldn't be relevant, right?"

"In theory, but we won't know what we've got until we view them. And if his death is ruled by the medical examiner to be suspicious, all bets are off. Either way, guess you'll have to trust our discretion."

"Oh, brother," the publicist said. When Rachel rolled her eyes, Cronan raised an eyebrow.

"That puts me at the mercy of your judgment, Detectives." Chandler poured another gla.s.s. "Please don't let the press sensationalize this more than they already have, but if it helps find whoever killed Livie, I understand."

From the expression on Rachel's face, she didn't feel the same generosity toward Olivia as her celebrity client. If looks could kill, Olivia Davenport would have died twice.

An hour later Angel made a quick trip home to pack an overnight bag and get into comfortable traveling clothes. She slipped into her "work" jeans-pants with a leg cut loose enough to accommodate her Sig Sauer P239 worn in an ankle holster-and shrugged into a navy blue CPD T-shirt and put on a pair of running shoes.

Gabe had given her the lake house address, and she'd plugged it into her phone's GPS. She was heading out the door when her cell rang. She thought it would be Gabe, but when she looked on her display, she recognized the number.

"Angelica? It's me, Ethan."

"I'm on my way out of town, Ethan. Can this wait?"

"I wish I didn't have to make this call at all."

Angel put her bag down and went to her sofa to sit. Whatever reason Ethan had called, it didn't sound as if he'd made the decision easily.

"What's wrong? Tell me."

"If that man recorded me in my home, I have a pretty good idea what will be on the recordings. Rachel is right. It will ruin my career....my life."

"Do you have any reason to believe that these recordings will have something to do with Olivia's murder...or the death of your neighbor?"

"No. I mean, I have no idea about that, but..." he hesitated, and she heard him take a deep breath. "I lied to you...about the s.e.x."

"Lied about what exactly?"

Seconds ticked by and the longer he stayed silent, the worse her imagination turned over what he might have lied about, but Angel didn't interrupt him.

"I was the one that introduced Olivia to the role play s.e.x. Being blind, I like...different sensations. I like not knowing whose hands are on me...or who I'm touching. It's like that for me anyway. A fantasy isn't much of a stretch. Unless you've been open to it, you have no idea what a rush it can be for someone...like me."

"Why are you telling me this now, Ethan?"

"Because if the recordings exist, you'll find out soon enough, and I'm tired of the secrets. I wanted you to hear it from me first, but Rachel is right. If any recordings at my home got out, it could be devastating to my career...to my life."

"Did Rachel ask you to call me?" Angel pictured the publicists' s smug face, and she clenched her jaw.

"As far as I know, Rachel and Bryce don't know about that part of my life." He sighed. "This is so d.a.m.ned personal. I can't believe I have to talk about this. Olivia only knew because she got into it. Really into it, but I didn't lie about the feeling that she cheated on me. I just never wanted to find out for sure. I'm beyond pathetic."

When he said Rachel and Bryce didn't know, it surprised her. After she and Gabe revealed the possible existence of McFarland's video collection in front of Ethan and his inner circle, she expected they'd been closer acquaintances. Her partner had gambled on it.

"I'm sorry, Ethan. I wish things had turned out differently for you."

"The only good thing in all this...is that you are on the team investigating." He cleared his throat, and she waited for him to say more. "I have no right to ask this, but..."

Angel held her breath and shut her eyes. She knew what he would say next and she prayed he wouldn't.

"...please take me with you when you search for those recordings. I have to know what you find. This is...killing me. I won't be able to sleep...until I know what I'll have to deal with."

"Ethan, I'm a cop on duty, and this is an investigation."

"I know I'm asking a lot. I just thought you'd understand. And it's not like I can tell anyone where we go or what we find. I'd have to rely on you to tell me, but maybe I can give context to what you might...see. Please don't say no. Please."

Her partner had been right about one of them having enough to lose that it would draw them out. She didn't think that person would be Ethan.

"Just so you know, if I let you come, you have to do everything I say, and you can't influence me on what I deem as evidence," she said.

"How can I influence you when I can't *see' it, unless you explain it to me? I won't interfere and I do want to find out who killed Livie. I would hope we could both get what we want without obliterating my life in the process."

Angel clutched her phone too tight and let out a frayed breath until he spoke again.

"No one deserves to have their privacy invaded, not in their own home," he said. "Put yourself in my position, Angelica. Imagine recordings of you in your bedroom and shower having the potential to become public. What would you do?"

Angel knew what she should have done-what Gabe would want her to do-but she couldn't help feel a personal connection to Ethan that made her decision tougher than it should've been. In the end she had to trust her instinct about the violinist.

"Pack an overnight bag. I'll meet you in an hour where I dropped you off the other night, near your building. No media."

"I'll do my best." Ethan said, but before he hung up, he had something else to say. "Angelica?"