Ashes to Ashes

remember if he'd been expecting a call from overseas.

“Daddy dearest,” the voice sang softly, seductively. “I know all your secrets.”

13

CHAPTER

“WE'RE GOING TO look like asses if we have to release another composite,” Sabin complained, prowling behind his desk. His lower lip jutted out like a sulky two-year-old's, an odd contrast to the sharp sophistication of his image. Ready to deal with the press at a moment's notice, he had decked himself out in a pewter-gray suit with a tie two shades darker and a French-blue shirt. Very dapper.

“I don't see how it reflects badly on your office, Ted,” Kate said. “Chief Greer was the one who jumped the gun.”

He frowned harder and gave her a meaningful look. “I know whose fault this is.”

“You can't blame the witness,” Kate said, knowing full well he meant to blame her.

“I'm told she's not been very cooperative,” Edwyn Noble said with concern, wedging his way into the discussion. He sat in a visitor's chair, his body too long for it, the legs of his dark trousers hiking up above bony ankles and nylon socks.

Kate stared at him, half a dozen stinging remarks on the tip of her tongue, not the least of which was “What the hell are you doing here?” Of course, she knew what he was doing there. His presence skirted the bounds of propriety, but she had already run the argument through her head and knew what the outcome would be. The county attorney's office ran victim/witness services. Peter Bondurant was the immediate family of a victim—if the dead woman proved to be his daughter—and therefore entitled to be kept informed as to the disposition of the case. Edwyn Noble was Bondurant's envoy. Et cetera, et cetera.

She looked at Noble as if he were something she might scrape off her shoe. “Yes, well, there's always some of that going around.”

The insinuation struck the bull's-eye. Noble sat up a little straighter in the too-small chair, his eyes going cold.

Rob Marshall moved between them as peacemaker, the bootlicker's grin stretching across his moon face. “What Kate means is that it's not unusual for a witness to such a brutal crime to become a little reluctant.”

Sabin huffed. “She's not reluctant for the reward money.”

“The reward will go out only upon conviction,” Noble reminded them, as if it would take his client that long to scrape the cash together. As if Bondurant might be half hoping to get out of it altogether.

“This office does not buy witnesses,” Sabin proclaimed. “I told you I wanted her dealt with, Kate.”

He made her sound like a paid assassin. “I am dealing with her.”

“Then why did she not spend Monday night in jail? I told Kovac to treat her like a suspect. Scare her a little.”

“But you—” Kate began, confused.

Rob gave her a warning look. “We still have that option in our pocket, Ted. Trying Phoenix House first might soften her up, give the girl the impression that Kate is on her side. I'm sure that's what you had in mind, isn't it, Kate?”

She glared at her boss, openmouthed.

Sabin was pouting. “Now this sketch fiasco.”

“It's not a fiasco. No one should've seen the sketch yesterday,” Kate argued, turning away from Rob before she could go for his throat. “Ted, you pressure this kid, she'll walk. Get tough with her, she'll develop a real mean case of amnesia. I guarantee it. You and I both know you have nothing to hold her on with relation to the murder. You couldn't even get her arraigned. A judge would bounce it out of the courtroom like a Super Ball, and you'd be left with egg on your face and no witness.”

He rubbed his chin as if he already felt the yoke drying. “She's a vagrant. That's against the law.”

“Oh, yeah, that'll look good in the papers. Teenage Murder Witness Charged for Homelessness. Next time you run for office, you can bill yourself as the Simon Legree candidate.”

“My political life is not an issue here, Ms. Conlan,” he snapped, suddenly stiff and steely-eyed. “Your handling of this witness is.”

Rob looked at Kate with an expression that questioned her sanity. Kate looked to Edwyn Noble. Not an issue. In a pig's eye.

She could have pushed Sabin a little now and gotten herself reassigned. She could have confessed a total inability to deal with this witness and been out from under the burden that was Angie DiMarco. But the second Kate thought it, she saw herself leaving the girl at the mercy of the assembled wolves, and couldn't do it. The memory was too fresh of Angie standing in the ratty den at the Phoenix, sudden tears in her eyes, asking Kate why she couldn't go home with her.

She rose, discreetly smoothing the wrinkles from the front of her skirt. “I'm doing my best to get the truth out of this girl. I know that's everyone's goal. Give me a chance to work her my way, Ted. Please.” She wasn't above giving him the hopeful, wide-eyed look if it would sway his mood. He didn't have to fall for it if he didn't want to. The word mercenary crawled through her mind, leaving a small trail of slime.

“She's not the kid next door,” she went on. “She's had a tough life and it's made her a tough person, but I think she wants to do the right thing here. It won't do anyone any good to get impatient at this stage of the game. If you want corroboration of my opinion, ask Quinn. He knows as much about dealing with witnesses in this kind of case as I do,” Kate said, thinking turnabout was fair play. John owed her one. At least.

Noble cleared his throat politely. “What about hypnosis? Will you try that?”

Kate shook her head. “She'll never go for it. Hypnosis requires trust. This kid hasn't got any. Oscar's as mystical as she's going to sit still for.”

“I hate to play devil's advocate,” the attorney said, unfolding himself from the chair, “but how are we to know the girl saw anything at all? It sounds to me as if she's the type to do anything for money. Perhaps the reward is her only goal.”

“And she set her sights on that goal before she knew it would even exist?” Kate said. “If that's the case, then she's worth more than she ever was to this case because she'd have to be psychic. No reward was offered after the first two murders.”

She glanced at her watch and swore under her breath. “I'm afraid you gentlemen will have to excuse me. I have to be at a hearing in a few minutes and my victim's probably already panicking because I'm not there.”

Sabin had come around the desk to lean back against it with his arms crossed and his stern face on. Kate recognized the pose from the profile Minnesota Monthly had done on him a year earlier. Not that she discounted his power or his willingness to use it. Ted Sabin hadn't gotten where he was by being anybody's fool or pretty boy.

“I'll give you more time with this girl, Kate.” He made it sound as if he were doing so grudgingly, even though the whole arrangement had been his idea. “But we need results, and we need them quickly. I thought you of all the advocates in your office would understand that.”

“She's working with Oscar again this afternoon,” she said, moving toward the door.

Sabin came away from his desk and walked with her, resting his hand between her shoulder blades. “You'll be through in court in time to be there with her?”

“Yes.”

“Because I'm sure Rob can juggle something and have someone else take care of this hearing.”

“No, sir. The hearing won't take long,” she promised with a pained smile. “Besides, I wouldn't wish this particular client on any of my colleagues. They know where I live.”

“Maybe we should have Agent Quinn sit in on this session with Oscar and the girl,” he suggested.

The hand on her back had a knife in it suddenly.

“I don't see how that would be helpful.”

“No, you were right, Kate,” he argued. “This witness isn't ordinary. And as you said, Quinn has a great deal of experience. He might be able to pick up on something, suggest a strategy. I'll call him.”