Fifth Victim

specific, symbolic even, to do the deed. And the gun had been wiped clean.’

‘So he was murdered,’ Parker said flatly, the words almost forced out of him. ‘Could this be a random killing – unconnected to his … past?’

I shook my head. ‘I doubt it. From what Detective Kershner’s told me of the crime rate in Omaha, it’s a pretty safe town.’

Parker sighed, as if he was trying his best and I was being deliberately difficult. When he spoke there was a trace of anguish underlying his even tone. ‘Why did you come here, Charlie?’

I met his gaze squarely. ‘Because certain information came into my hands about his location, and I knew Epps wasn’t going to follow it up fast enough,’ I said. ‘I didn’t want our boy to simply disappear again.’

His eyes narrowed. ‘Well, that’s for sure.’

‘A round to the head tends to make certain of that,’ I agreed, and saw the anguish turn to active pain.

‘Charlie … What have you told them?’

‘Everything,’ I said. More or less. ‘It would have been foolish to do otherwise. After all, it was all bound to come out sooner or later. Why hold anything back?’

He hid a flinch, not well. ‘You know I’ll help you,’ he said. ‘Whatever it takes.’

‘Parker, trust me, I don’t need your help.’ I spoke gently, easily, all the time acutely aware of possible listeners on the other side of the mirrored wall. ‘I assume Epps’s boys have finally turned up?’

‘Yeah, we came in on the same flight.’

I nodded. ‘Better late than never, I suppose.’

The door opened again and Detective Kershner hovered there, checking out Parker with a wary gaze. He was young, home-grown and relatively inexperienced, but sharp for all that. I had watched my step very carefully with him. His eyes slid to me.

‘The department would like to thank you for your assistance, Miss Fox,’ he said formally. ‘We have your contact details in New York, should anything else come up, but you can go.’

‘Thank you.’ I stood up. ‘And good luck with this one.’

He gave a wry smile. ‘We’re gonna need it,’ he said. He paused, aware I wasn’t quite a fellow professional, but I wasn’t quite a civilian either. ‘Thought you’d like to know that Ballistics ran the weapon through IBIS and got a hit from an execution-style homicide about six months ago in California, thought to be connected to a militia group out there.’

Parker’s head snapped up. ‘Wasn’t he supposed to be infiltrating a militia?’ he said, puzzlement in his tone.

‘That is my understanding, yes sir.’ The detective nodded. ‘Looks like they got wise to him, maybe followed him here.’

Parker’s eyes skimmed over me, thoughtful. ‘Yeah,’ he murmured. ‘Looks that way.’

Kershner walked us out, flicking little covert glances at the pair of us as we went. I realised he’d checked up on both of us. This was probably the first time he’d met anybody with Parker’s credentials, and was trying to work out what made us tick.

By the entrance, he shook our hands and left us. Parker jerked his head towards the door and I followed him out into bright sunshine. There was a light breeze, just enough to set the Stars and Stripes on the nearest flagpole rippling lazily. It could just have been something to do with the air conditioning in the building, but the air smelt sweet and clean outside.

Parker let us get as far as the front seats of his rented Chevy Suburban before he spoke again.

‘I don’t suppose you’d like to tell me what the hell just happened back there?’ he demanded with a dangerous softness.

I leant back against the headrest and closed my eyes, feeling utterly exhausted. ‘I found the body,’ I said. It was easier to avoid telling the whole truth with my eyes shut.

‘You found the body?’ he repeated flatly. ‘Hell, Charlie, I get a call from Epps first thing this morning, telling me the guy was dead and you’re being held by the cops out here.’ He shook his head a little and rubbed a frustrated hand around the back of his neck. ‘Do you have any idea what I thought …? What I felt?’

‘I’m sorry,’ I said, and meant it. ‘But I was being interviewed as a witness. That’s somewhat different from being arrested as a suspect.’

I couldn’t deny, though, that as I’d watched the last flicker of life expire from my target’s eyes, I’d debated on simply surrendering to fate and the police, in that order.

But, I realised I’d made the decision to overcome this before I’d even taken the shot. By stepping back, making it a non-contact wound, I’d avoided the inevitable blow-back mist of blood. I’m still not entirely sure what made me do that, other than some inbuilt survival instinct. A desire to distance myself from this crime.

Moments later, I’d wiped down the gun and dropped it alongside the corpse, walked back to my hotel forcing myself not to hurry. I didn’t look back.

My clothes had gone straight into the hotel laundry, right down to the trainers I’d been wearing. Even though I was almost certain my sleeves had covered it, I scrubbed my waterproof Tag watch in the bathroom sink, left it to soak while I stood braced against the tiles in the shower for as long as I could manage.

Even so, I’d waited until the early morning for any possible remaining gunshot residue to dissipate before I retraced my steps towards the river. I confess that I was half expecting to see the police already on the scene, or the body vanished like part of some bizarre murder mystery.

Neither scenario played out. The body was exactly as I’d left it, with the exception of a couple of inquisitive seagulls. I ventured just close enough to verify the gun was still alongside him, then jogged to the nearest building and called it in.

The rest, Parker knew – or suspected.

They’d checked the time I arrived back at the hotel, but there was enough leeway with time of death for that to be inconclusive. As a matter of course, they also tested my hands and clothing for gunshot residue and found nothing, which had seemed to allay their immediate suspicions. I guessed the discovery of the murder weapon’s unexpected provenance would do the rest.

Parker started the engine, dropped the Suburban into gear, and cruised sedately back towards my hotel without needing to be given directions.

‘Charlie, why did you come here?’ he asked when we were almost there, sounding weary.

‘I told you,’ I said, keeping my voice even. ‘I wanted to make sure he didn’t run again before Epps’s people caught up with him.’

‘And that’s all?’ Parker persisted.

I could have lied to him. But I couldn’t bring myself to do it. I twisted slightly in my seat.

‘Do you really want to know?’

‘I …’ He sighed, and I saw his hands flex around the rim of the steering wheel. ‘No,’ he said at last, sounding more defeated than I’d ever heard him. ‘You should have told me. I would have come with you. This is not something you should have tackled alone. If I’d had any idea where you were, or what you were doing …’

‘I thought you knew,’ I said slowly. ‘Why else the emails?’

He acknowledged my admission that I’d ignored his messages with a bitter quirk of his lips. ‘Your cell was switched off. I couldn’t reach you. I thought maybe you’d … decided to do something stupid.’

And maybe I had. I shied away from going there. It was a dark corner I would not look into.

‘Do away with myself, you mean?’ I asked dryly. ‘You really think, Parker, after all the shit I’ve been through, I’d take the easy way out now?’

He pulled up outside the entrance to the Embassy Suites and glanced over at me, his gaze coolly assessing.

‘It would have been the ultimate cruel irony, if you had,’ he said, and something in his voice sent my pulse buzzing, tightened my chest.

No. Oh, no …

‘Why? What’s happened?’

‘If you’d opened those emails, you’d know,’ he said. He paused, a wealth of conflicted emotions in his voice, his face. ‘Sean’s awake.’