“Of course. I’ll go make the call right now. Would you like him to call you back here or on your cell?”
“My cell would be great. Thanks, Lincoln.”
“No problem. Do you…never mind. I’ll just go call him right now.”
Baldwin went back to Taylor’s office, shut the door behind himself and took a seat.
“I have a theory,” he started, but her phone rang. She held up a hand in a wait-a-minute gesture, and answered the phone.
“Taylor? Honey, is that you?”
That voice again. This time deeper, richer. Not a tape. Taylor tried not to respond, but the word slipped out. “Daddy?”
“Yes, Taylor, it’s me. Dad. Win.” He was whispering. “You’ve been making life a little difficult here lately, sugar.”
“Don’t call me that. I’m not your sugar.”
“Taylor, listen to me. You need to follow Mr. Delglisi’s-”
She slipped a finger to the keypad and silently pushed the speaker button. Baldwin leaned forward to listen. “-instructions. Just make the massage parlors go away. Taylor, I’m sorry for all this. I’m trying to make it all right. I know I’ve botched everything, but I-”
Her blood started to boil, that familiar sensation of disbelief streaking back into her mind. Her father wasn’t dead. He was alive, working for a fucking mobster, and wanted her to turn the other cheek to something illegal he was involved in. Abso-fucking-lutely not.
“Stop. Just stop. What do think I am, Dad? You seem to forget that I’m a sworn officer of the law. I work for the good guys, Win. Not the bad guys. Not the ones like you.”
“Taylor, knock it off. You have no idea what kind of situation we’re in. You need to cooperate with him, Taylor. If you don’t-”
“What, Win? What kind of threat can you throw my way this time? Kidnapping isn’t enough for you? Now you’re going to have me taken care of?”
A rush of noise spilled from the speaker, what sounded like banging and yelling. Then another voice came on the line.
L’Uomo laughed, a sneering, belittling noise. “Oh, Win. I should have known I couldn’t trust you. Leave you alone for a second and you try to warn your sweet girl. Hello, Lieutenant. Lovely to speak with you again. Just wish it were under better circumstances.”
“What have you done with my father?”
“Nothing, yet. But I’ll kill him if you don’t cooperate. Slowly.”
Taylor felt herself pale. The mixed emotions-she hated her father, but she loved him, too. Damn it. They were both bastards. She gritted her teeth, snapping off the ends of each word as if they tasted bitter in her mouth.
“Like you did to Burt Mars? I swear, you son of a bitch, if you do anything to him, I will personally take you down.”
“No, you won’t. You don’t have that kind of power. Your fiance doesn’t, either, so don’t think about running to him. Mars was collateral damage. I do what needs to be done, Lieutenant. Just remember that. Now, it’s time to stop this game. You need to listen to me, once and for all. I’m willing to make a deal with you.”
“A deal? With a criminal? I don’t think so.”
“Oh, I think you’ll play along when I tell you what the offer is. Something to sweeten the proverbial pot. You turn your pretty little head away from my business interests in Nashville, and not only will I let your father live, I’ll give you Snow White.”
Taylor didn’t reply, just looked at Baldwin. He wrote her a note, slid it across the desk. She read the message- calm down.
Taylor nodded. Tried to sound more reasonable.
“Delglisi, I can’t do that. I can’t turn my head on illegal activities.”
“Yes, you can. And you will. You hold your father’s life in your hands. Snow White’s head on a platter, Lieutenant. I think that’s a generous gift.”
She raised an eyebrow at Baldwin, decided to take a chance, con the con.
“Yes, I agree. Very generous. There’s just one problem with your offer. I know who the Snow White is. So your little deal isn’t going to work. You need to let my father go.”
The laughter emanating from the speaker chilled Taylor’s spine. “You don’t know who he is, or you would have arrested him by now. Last chance, Lieutenant. I’ll give you a few hours to think it over.”
He was gone. Taylor slumped her head in her hands. Baldwin stroked her arm until she raised her head.
“Now what?” she asked.
“I have a call coming in. If my theory is right, I think we can take him down. There’s someone who might know a little more about his activities, know if he’s bluffing. And we need to get Snow White. That’s our only bargaining chip.”
“Bargaining? Surely you can’t be thinking of making a deal with that scumbag.”
Baldwin rocked back in his chair. “I figured you’d want me to do everything I could to stop him from hurting your father.”
“He won’t hurt him. They’re in this together. I can tell. I have a sneaking suspicion about Delglisi. Lincoln said Jane Macias’s notes had the name Malik next to Delglisi’s, right? What if Anthony Malik is Edward Delglisi? It would explain everything. Eldridge said they know Delglisi isn’t L’Uomo’s real name.”
Baldwin was nodding. “This makes sense.”
“And they’ve been friends for years. That’s what I keep remembering-Mars, my dad, the guy who I think must be Snow White, all chummy on New Year’s Eve. If I could get deeper into the memory and put a voice to the fourth man, I’ll bet you anything it’s Malik. Snow White’s name isn’t coming to me, but I’m sure if I go through the society pages real quick, I can find a picture of him and that damnable signet ring. If there’s a shot of Malik, too, maybe I can tie everything together, recognize Delglisi as Malik. We’ll have actual proof.
“But I’ll be damned if I’ll listen to directives from a bunch of old criminals, trying to one-up each other. Sick bastards. My father will have to fend for himself. I’m not bailing him out of this mess.”
A knock sounded on her door. “Come in,” she yelled.
Marcus opened the door, pale in the glare of the fluorescent bulbs. He stood, seemingly frozen in the door frame, and his voice shook just a bit when he told them.
“We have another victim.”
Forty-Four
Nashville, Tennessee Tuesday, December 23 3:00 p.m.
The procession to the Marriott Renaissance Hotel on Commerce Street downtown was four cars deep. Baldwin and Taylor were in one, Lincoln and Marcus followed, Fitz trailed the medical examiner’s van, who had pulled in front of them as they left the CJC. A funeral cortege. They might as well all have their lights on and traffic stopped to show respect for their passage.
Taylor was quiet. She knew who this victim must be, had heard the brief details of the crime scene. A woman, dark hair, throat slashed, overwearing red lipstick. If she had just put it all together sooner. She had failed Jane Macias. In failing her, she had failed everything-her father, her coworkers, Baldwin. The guilt was more than she could bear.
They pulled into the valet section, mindful of the doors to the lobby of the hotel. No sense in advertising too much. There were already four patrol cars in the drive-through. No one would question that something was happening, but if they could keep the Snow White aspects from the case for a bit, perhaps the media wouldn’t seize upon it and start the vicious cycle all over again. Wishful thinking.
The manager greeted them in the foyer, a wild-eyed young woman with short, spiky blond hair and a considerable waistline. Taylor eyed her, unable to ascertain whether she was pregnant or just heavy. As a hotel general manager, she was as professional as could be expected, considering a serial killer had struck in one of her
