McVey scrolled through a list of New Orleans police officers. Paperwork, Jake. Triple the usual amount if we start shuffling prisoners around. And youll be doing every last bit of it.
The deputy gave his rifle a resentful pump. I could get me a job in Bangor, you know.
Any time you want that to happen... A raven-shaped wall clock told McVey hed been on his iPhone for more than forty minutes. Out of patience, he took a procedural shortcut to a friend of a friend on the New Orleans force. Samsons texted me three times since we left the Red Eye, he said absently. Wants me to pay for the beer he didnt get to drink.
Amara kept pacing. Sounds as though Samsons spent some time around Uncle Lazarus.... Theres still no answer at the lieutenants apartment, McVey. Ive tried his BlackBerry and his landline a dozen times each.
McVey flicked her a look but said nothing. Didnt need to; she knew the score as well as he did.
It took the better part of an hour to connect with someone in a position of sufficient authority to have Michaelss apartment checked out. Another hour and a blistering headache later, the captain from the lieutenants parish contacted him personally.
Michaels is dead. The mans tone was lifeless, a condition McVey understood all too well. Officers found him on his back, staring at the ceiling. He had both hands clamped around his BlackBerry.
Cause of death?
Given the situation, Id go with some kind of off-the-radar toxin that simulates a stroke. Forensic teams scouring the apartment as we speak. Ill let you know what they turn up.
Amara rubbed her forehead with her own phone after the captain signed off. Michaels is dead because he helped me get out of New Orleans. This is my fault.
Figuring sympathy wasnt the way to go here, McVey countered with a bland, You know thats a load of bull, right? And if we all just went with it, Willy Sparks would go on killing cops and civilians ad infinitum.
She shot him a vexed look. Thanks for the shoulder.
You dont want a shoulder, Amara. You want to pound your fists. If I tell you its not your fault, youll get angry and say it shouldve been you, because thats who Jimmy Sparks was gunning for.
He was. He is. And as emotional releases go, angry words are better than furious fists.
Not always. Back on point, what if Sparkss nephew, godson, second cousinwhateverhad killed you instead of Michaels. Then what? True, hed get paid, maybe bask on a tropical island for a while, but what hed really be doing is waiting for Uncle Jimmy to crook his finger again and point it at a new target. The way things stand, this jobs not done. In fact, its a good bet Willy Sparks is either en route to or has already arrived in whatever Raven town the lieutenant entered into his BlackBerry.
Amara frowned at her cell, then at him. He said he buried the destination and phone number.
Theres buried, and theres buried, Red. The phone wasnt taken, therefore there was no need to take it.
As in the killer got what he wanted from it before he left. She closed her eyes. My ex is a geek. He could hack into just about any device.
Geeks can murder as effectively as anyone, Amara.
So it seems. She looked around the office. I need to leave before he gets here.
McVey regarded his iPhone screen, shook his head and pushed off from the windowsill where hed been leaning. Youre not getting this, are you? Skip past the beating-yourself-up part, Amara, and think.
Im not beating myself...well, yes, I am, but thats because I feel responsible.
Did you kill him?
Youre joking, right? Im a doctor, McVey. Psychology doesnt work on me.
Fine. Heres the reality. You leave town, Willy arrives. Hes pissed off to start with. Then he stops and thinks. And being a pro, sees a golden opportunity to draw you back.
By hurting members of my family.
Wouldnt you, in his position?
Let me think. Uhno.
Put your mind in his. Were talking about a killer here. When she didnt respond, McVey held his arms out to the sides. Look, if itll help get you past the guilt and make you see reason, youre welcome to take your best physical shot. All I want in return is a handful of Tylenols, a couple hours of sleep and no argument from you about where youll be spending the night. You have two options. Come with me to your grandmothers place or hang with Jake on a cot in the back room.
Thats quite a choice. Seeing as I know all the hidey-holes at Nanas house and wouldnt trust Jake not to sell me out for cab fare, Ill go with the lesser evil and take you. As for the gut punch, Ill take a rain check.
Excellent choices, McVey returned.
Although it felt like a betrayal of sorts, he deliberately neglected to tell her about the text message Michaelss captain had sent him less than a minute ago. But it continued to play in his head like a stuck audio disk.
In the captains opinion, if one of his most experienced detectives could be taken out as easily as Michaels apparently had been, then it was only a matter of timelikely shortbefore the fourth person on Jimmy Sparkss hit list followed him to the grave.