The Rookie Club: Dead Center Part 17

He frowned. "Give it to me."

"Answer the question," she said slowly.

"I don't know."

"You don't know if you want to be with me?"

Paul looked down at his feet, nodded.

"Say it."

He looked over his shoulder.

"Say it," she repeated.

"I don't know if I want to be with you."

"Because I was raped."

"Maybe. Maybe because of other stuff."

"Bulls.h.i.t," she shouted. "We were at the f.u.c.king Ritz three weeks ago and you were talking about marriage. Now you're not sure you want to be with me? Because someone attacked me? What-you think it was my fault?"

He didn't answer. He just kept his hand extended for the phone.

"f.u.c.k you, Paul. f.u.c.k. You."

"Can I have my phone?"

"Sure. Here's your d.a.m.n phone." She turned and pitched it as far as she could. She heard it land-the crunch of breaking gla.s.s, the skidding of pieces as it shattered against the wall of mailboxes.

Then she turned around and marched to her apartment. Her hand shook as she pushed the door open, reached back to grab her suitcase. Paul was already out the door.

All she saw was his back, his hands pressed into his pockets as he made his way down the stairs and out onto the street.

Furious, she dragged her bag inside, slammed the door. She thought of how far she'd thrown that phone. Her father would have been proud.

She tried to smile, looked around the empty apartment.

Then, buckling to her knees, she sobbed.

Chapter 19.

Jamie hadn't even gotten Scanlan into an interview room before IA stepped in. It was like he had some homing device that alerted Daddy and his cronies whenever he was in trouble. Jamie had insisted she be part of the interview, but they'd denied her request.

So she'd done the only thing she could think to do. She called Captain Jules, roused him from bed, and been told to cool her heels. Then she and Hailey sat outside the interview room for more than an hour, waiting. She called her house but Tony didn't answer. Maybe he was sleeping. Maybe he was out. h.e.l.l, maybe he was gone. Maybe he was... No, she wouldn't let herself think that. He wouldn't. She prayed he wouldn't.

Hailey and Jamie took turns getting coffee, talking, and half-dozing in their chairs, neither willing to leave until the interview was over.

Something had to come of this. She was p.i.s.sed off that someone showed up to save Scanlan's hide, again. She'd like to hang him from his d.a.m.n toenails instead. But that might have been premature, too.

Nearly forty-five minutes into the wait, Jamie realized she had voicemails. She thought about Tony, fretting. She'd forgotten about him. Left him at home. He said he'd be fine. Both messages were from Tim. Though he was still in prison and mentioned his concern about whether he'd get bail in the appeal, his messages were about Devlin's murder. He had heard that they had a new lead and he wanted to know if she could share it. No doubt he was hoping that they'd found something definitive that pointed to someone else as her killer. Truth was they hadn't. Not unless something panned out with Scanlan. Nothing unexpected had turned up in the search of Tim's house and car. They'd found some clothes with Devlin's blood on them, but Tim had already explained that he had carried her out of the building after she was dead.

When Jamie had called Goldman, the attorney had a.s.sured Jamie that they had enough reasonable doubt to get Tim released from prison. The appeal wouldn't fail again, especially with the other suspects that were emerging. Though skeptical, Jamie hoped Goldman could make it happen. She didn't want to see Tim, but she didn't like the idea of him sitting in that jail either.

When Scanlan finally emerged from the interview room flanked by the two IA investigators, he looked relieved, which was not how Jamie wanted him to look.

Both women stood.

Daniels waved them into the conference room. "Let's talk in here."

Jamie eyed Scanlan.

"Wait for us out here, Scott."

"Sure," he said.

Jamie followed Daniels into the conference room, stood against the wall.

Daniels motioned to a chair.

Hailey sat. Jamie stood.

The other IA officer sat, too.

Daniels looked at Jamie. "You don't have enough on him."

"I've got a photograph," she returned. "What were you hoping for? A confession?"

He shook his head. "You've got a picture that shows Scanlan dropping her off at the station. And not even that. The image shows a car with something hanging in the rearview mirror that is similar to the thing hanging in Scanlan's rearview mirror. That's it."

"Did you ask Scanlan if he dropped her off?"Daniels nodded.

"And?" Hailey asked.

"He says he did. But he didn't get out of the car with her."

Jamie clenched her jaw. "We need a blood test for DNA comparison to the scene. He could make this easier and just submit to the tests."

He shook his head. "I don't think he will."

"You're protecting him," Hailey said.

"I'm doing my job," he responded. He sat back in his chair. "We'll continue the investigation from our department," he added, sounding like the perfect bureaucrat.

"Christ," Hailey said. "You're going to take over the murder case?"

Daniels frowned. "No. Just this aspect of the questioning."

"At this point, questioning the suspect is the whole case," Jamie countered.

Hailey launched herself out of her chair. "You're giving him special treatment because he's the deputy chief's son. That's bulls.h.i.t, Bruce."

"No, Inspector. We are not giving him special treatment," Daniels responded, his voice even. "We are merely treating him like a respected member of the force."

"Is that how you treated Tim Worley?" Jamie snapped.

Daniels didn't respond to her. Instead, he said, "We agreed that we will pursue it tomorrow. Officer Scanlan said he went straight home. And he's got an alibi. We'll check it out."

"What's the alibi?" Jamie demanded.

Daniels' lips thinned. "He stayed at his parents."

"Mommy?" Jamie was outraged. "Mommy is his f.u.c.king alibi?"

"Understand our position," the other officer interjected, speaking for the first time. "We have to offer him the benefit of the doubt. He's a police officer."

"So was Tim Worley when he was arrested for murder and denied bail."

The two men frowned. Neither seemed to have anything to add.

"We've got his print in her car," Hailey added. "You can't just let him walk because of who his father is."

"We'll check it out."

"You'd better bet we will," Jamie said, but the threat felt empty.

Hailey stood, crossed her arms, stared down at Daniels. "I would've expected more from you."

"Sorry to disappoint." He didn't look sorry.

But Hailey shook her head at Jamie as though to say it wasn't worth the fight. Then, without another word, she turned and left the room.

Jamie looked back at Daniels and wondered what had pa.s.sed between them. Was there another time when he'd offered more? Or maybe something else.

Jamie walked from the room, pa.s.sing by Daniels and the other IA officer who remained seated.

When she walked out, Scanlan stood against the far wall. He held his fingers up like they were a gun and shot at her. Then he blew the smoke off like an old gangster movie. The gesture made him seem more like a surly teenager than any kind of real threat.

"Watch it, a.s.shole," she warned him. "And don't go anywhere. We're not anywhere close to finished."

"I can't wait," he said, blowing her a kiss. With that, she left Scanlan alone. She hurried to the lot, hoping to catch Hailey and get her take on it.

But Hailey was gone.

Her cell phone rang as she turned to walk toward the parking lot. "Vail."

"Jamie. It's Chip Washington. I got a call that you found a photo of Devlin at Marchek's. Does it link him to her murder?"

"News travels fast."

"I talked to Evidence, but they couldn't say who was in the picture. Can you tell who it is?"

"We can tell all right."

"Who?" He sounded breathless.

"Are you running?"

"Sorry. Just walking up stairs. Who is it? The picture, I mean."

"Scott Scanlan." Jamie described the photo Marchek had taken. "He must have seen them arrive at the station."

"Christ. And there was only that one photo?"

"Yeah. Unfortunately, just one."

"d.a.m.n," he muttered.

She sighed, feeling the same way. "Thanks for getting the warrant."

"Yeah. Don't worry. I just wish it had helped more."

"We'll nail him," Jamie said. "I'm going home for some sleep."

"Okay. Have a good night and keep me posted."

"Will do." Jamie ended the call, and found her car in the lot. Revving the engine, she lit a cigarette as she headed for home. She had a momentary thought about settling in for a quiet night of rest.

Then she wondered where Tony had been all day, why he hadn't answered her calls. An image of him hanging in a closet made her shudder. He'd promised on Lana's grave that he wouldn't do it again. Not here, not in her house. Christ, not Tony.

She sucked hard on the cigarette, drove too fast, and prayed he had kept his promise.

Chapter 20.

Hailey was three blocks from the police station when her cell phone rang. She knew who it was without glancing at the phone. She was frustrated, angry. She felt the tension between them and hated it. Sighing, she reached over and touched the green circle. "Wyatt."