Rear entrance, he snarled, then more softly, Quiet, now, gorgeous. Were gonna leave here like mice, you and me. Open the door and take a peek outside.
Adrenaline pulsed through her. She reined it in and exhaled. I need my hand.
He squeezed her hard. Screw with me, he warned, and Ill snap your elbow like a twig.
Then he shifted his grip.
The instant her wrist was free, Romana used her boot on his instep, spun out of the arm lock, brought her knee up between his legs and mashed his nose with the heel of her hand.
Blood spurted. Santa howled and stumbled headfirst into the door. When it crashed open, the impact sent him staggering backward into the sink.
Let it bleed, Jacob advised from behind the barrel of his police special. He held out a hand in her direction. Romana?
Sore arm. She gave it an experimental shake, then curious, bent to inspect the seething Santa. Critch?
When he didnt respond, Jacob lowered his gun to a point below the mans Santa buckle. Lose the whiskers, pal, unless youd rather lose a vital body part.
Bloody fingers gave the beard a yank.
Not Critch, Romana realized. Close-he had the rangy build and rugged features-but this man was younger, and not as tough as hed wanted her to believe.
She tried a question while he gulped air through his mouth. Do you know Warren Critch?
He started to swear, but swallowed the worst of it when he saw Jacobs face. No.
One-handed, Jacob hefted the man to his feet. Romana?
Dialing. She used her cell phone and at the same time knocked on the closed stall door. Its okay.You can come out.
The daughter was slumped like a rag doll against the metal wall. Only her mother emerged.
She touched Romanas arm. Why did you think he was after you?
Very long story, Romana replied. But take my advice. If your daughter ever decides to become a cop, tell her to make sure its what she wants. She regarded the bleeding Santa, let her mind rewind to the telephone threat shed received only yesterday and her eyes stray to Jacob. Because no matter how hard you try, if you decide to leave the force, the break will never be totally clean.
WELL, WELL, NOW WASNT THIS AN intriguing twist? Someone else, someone completely unrelated to his purpose, had done the terrorizing tonight. He hadnt needed to lift a finger. True, the guy hadnt rattled them too deeply; but there must have been a moment when theyd been unsure, when Romana in particular had feared for her life.
He warmed to the idea. Prolonged fear. They should never be sure where Warren Critch might pop up or what hed do when he did. Yes, he liked that scenario very much.
Hed use uncertainty to his advantage, throw them off-balance then swoop in for the kill.
He smiled the smile of a smug, nasty Grinch. Who said revenge had to be dull?
ANSWERSNO, FITZ. Im not going. End of conversation. Come on, Ro, I need you there for support. Anyway, functions like this are fun. When you were on the force, you told me police parties had the potential to get wild.
In the kitchen of her Clifton apartment, Romana removed a final tray of Christmas gingerbread from the oven and glanced at Fitzs half-empty glass of eggnog.
Theyd been baking the parts for a gingerbread house all afternoon. Romana was comfortably barefoot in her favorite black sweats, a stretchy white tank and three pairs of jingling Christmas earrings. It might have been thirty degrees outside, but a gas fire burned warm and inviting in her living room, the air smelled of ginger and other spices, and Loreena McKennitt sang haunting Christmas melodies on her MP3 player.
She listened to her cousins dramatic pleas and told herself not to laugh. No matter what her initial mood, Fitz always had the ability to amuse her. But go to a police/forensics party after shed left the force? Not in this lifetime, not even for Anna Fitzgeralds sake.
Youre slurring your words, Fitz. She rearranged the trays in an attempt to figure out which pieces went where. No more brandy until I can understand at least half of what youre saying. Still arranging, she shoved at her cousins hand. And dont eat the walls until theyre up.
Say no all you like, youre coming to the party. Despite her thick tongue, Fitzs expression grew sly. Bet Jacob Knightll be there.
Romana slid Fitzs glass out of reach. Jacob does parties like I do boring faculty dinners-which is to say, he only goes when threatened by a higher power. Dont eat the roof, either.
Ill cut you a deal, Ro. Ill stop nibbling if youll tell me about the mean Santa who nabbed you in the bathroom. You rushed through it too fast the first time.
Although she didnt want to repeat the story again, the alternative-to be badgered for the next hour by her tipsy cousin-was even less palatable.
The guy was a thief, Fitz. He dressed up as Santa Claus, marched into a liquor store, waited for a lull, broke a bottle and used it on the cashier. Manager was in the back. He found a knife and charged. Santa took off. He didnt have time to lose the costume, so he left it on and ran into Bitte, where Jacob and I were having dinner. The womens washroom door was right there. He saw it as a refuge and ducked in.
Where was Jacob?
Heading for the mens room. The liquor store manager spotted his badge and told him hed followed a would-be thief into the restaurant. Jacob reasoned it out. Result? Mean Santas going to be spending Christmas in jail with a few badly bruised body parts and a broken nose.
Fitz fingered her own nose. Remind me never to sneak up on you from behind. So time passes, and you and Jacob have been doing what?
With the gingerbread set out in semiformation, Romana began capping the spices. Weve been questioning people who knew Belinda Critch, and a few who knew her husband. One of Warrens amateur theater cronies manages a toy store. Were seeing him tonight.
Yeah? Downtown store or shopping mall?
Mall.
Fitz made a face. I like street shops better. Crowded malls suck.
Romana grinned. Too many security guards lurking in the shop shadows, huh?
Youre never going to let me live that down, are you? Her cousins elbows hit the granite counter with a thud. Man, you swipe a few small things
Like a Rolex and a handheld PC, two pairs of Jimmy Choo shoes
I get it, Ro. Sticky fingers-bad. Straight and narrow- good. Dont forget I have serious childhood issues. My fathers an alcoholic. Fitzs elbows slid away and her forehead landed on the counter. James says hes on the bottle again.
Romana swung around. Oh, Fitz, Im sorry. She leaned over the island. Is he sure?
Ninety percent. He told me about it in the park. I kind of passed it by Dad, but you know how he is. Deny to the death, or the unemployment line if he isnt careful. She eased her head up to peek out from under her bangs. I dont suppose you could, you know
Talk to him?
He likes you.
Doesnt mean hell listen. But at Fitzs stricken expression, Romana relented. Yes, all right, Ill talk. Tell him Ill drop by for tea on Saturday.
Sunday. Saturdays the police party, and setting aside the fact that I want you there, you should want you there. Think about it, Ro. A lot of cops worked on Belinda Critchs case. You can talk to them. Or Jacob can. And dont tell me he wont show, because you can con anyone into anything when you put your mind to it. A lopsided smile appeared. Using her fingernails, she inched her eggnog forward. So, does the cutie pie detective have as great a body as I think he does under those jeans and that super cool leather jacket?
Amusement tickled Romanas throat. No idea, Fitz. Which was a lie since she had plenty of ideas, not to mention last nights deliciously graphic dream still shooting around in her head. To tell Fitz anything, however, was to risk announcing it to the world. We kissed, okay? Nothing more erotic than that.
Was it great?
Eyes sparkling, Romana drew the eggnog back out of range. Get invited to the police officers New Years Eve party, and you might find out.
Yeah, right, like Knights going to do New Years Eve.
Sliding her gaze to the wide condo window, Romana watched tiny snowflakes drift down from a dove-gray sky. Trust me, Fitz, if Jacob and I make it through Christmas to New Years Eve alive, well be in the mood to celebrate. She jingled the bell on one of her earrings. At least his neighbors better. Sort of. Shes awake and aware.
That sounds good. Why dont you sound happy?
Oh, Im happy, just-I dont know-puzzled, maybe. She says Critch was wearing a ski mask when he grabbed her.
Fitz searched for the point. And that puzzles you because?
Why would he bother?
Uh, so she couldnt identify him?
Yes, but we know it was him, so I repeat, why bother?
Maybe hes shy.
Mmm. Romana considered it from Critchs point of view. I suppose he could have been thinking that as long as he was disguised, even if we believed he was Critch, thered be no actual proof.
Isnt that what I said?
I mean if Denny had died, Jacob could have said he thought it was Critch who hit her, but he couldnt be absolutely certain. And any potential witnesses, say another neighbor, wouldnt have been able to provide a description, either. Becomes conjecture in the eyes of the court-ergo, no murder charge.
Until he gets around to you and Jacob.
Thats different, or it will be in Critchs eyes. Hell have an escape plan in place, an immediate one. In Dennys case, he knew hed have to hang around, and he couldnt risk an increased police presence.
Fitz propped her chin in one hand. Being a cop sounds complicated, Ro. So many procedures and loopholes and bad dudes flipping them the bird, then walking. No wonder some go bad. Her finger crept across the counter. Are you sticking to your belief that Jacob didnt kill Belinda?
The doubts that rose up scuttled into the corners when Romana pictured Jacob holding his gun on the Santa whod grabbed her at Bitte. Theres no reason not to stick.
So if youre right, that means someone else, probably someone who knew Belinda in the back bedroom kind of way, did the killing.
Romana slanted her a mildly suspicious look. Why the tone, cousin?
Eyes rolling, Fitz hopped from the barstool. Youre a cop to the bone, Ro. No tone, no problem. Come on. Lets haul out the big stepladder and hang twinkling lights around your gi-normous city-view window.