Wincott nodded to her and walked past.
“I just heard the news,” she said.
“Who told you?” Alec asked. For the first time in the last three weeks, he didn’t head for the comfortable sofa.
She closed the door. “Lieutenant Lewis called and told me, and then Aiden called. Why aren’t you smiling, Alec? Aren’t you happy about this?”
“He thinks it’s too easy,” Wincott said. He sat down in the easy chair and leaned forward.
Alec stood in the middle of the room with his hands in his pockets and frowned at him. “Listen, the results of the DNA aren’t in, I say we keep up the protection.”
“You aren’t convinced that Peter Morris is the man who killed…?”
She stopped when he shook his head. “No, I’m not convinced.”
“He doesn’t want to be convinced.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” Alec asked.
“It means it’s crunch time.” He gave a barely perceptible nod toward Regan.
Alec’s jaw was clenched tight as he glared at Wincott.
Regan wasn’t certain what was going on. “John, do you think we have the right man?”
“Yes, I do. Evidence doesn’t lie.”
“Unless it’s planted.”
“A strand of Morris’s hair was found embedded in the hammer.”
“Do you know how easy it would have been to plant that evidence? All someone had to do was take a hair from his brush,” he said as he slowly paced.
“He had a motive,” Wincott told Regan. “He owed the wrong people a lot of money, and he was counting on the grant to bail him out. When you turned him down, he went after you. He admitted he went to Liam House and waited for you. The evidence is going to bury him. Morris was desperate… and losing it. He picked up Regan’s cell phone and that folder with her murder list and thought that maybe if he did something nice for her…”
“I’d give him the money? My God…”
Wincott nodded. “I had a nice long talk with Emily Milan. She admitted she told Morris where you were.”
“Did she know she was talking to Peter Morris?” Regan asked.
“Yes, but she claims she had no idea what he wanted,” Wincott answered. “She also admitted she’d gotten into your computer so she could read all your e-mails. She said she only did it so she could keep current.”
“I’m amazed she’d own up to that. She’s the one who printed the picture of Sweeney and put it on Aiden’s desk. She also forwarded it to your other brothers.”
Wincott smiled. “The pair of handcuffs I pulled out made her real chatty. She suddenly wanted to cooperate.”
“Where is she now?” Alec asked.
“She was fired, of course,” Wincott said. “And security escorted her out of the hotel. I doubt she’ll be asking for a recommendation.”
“Are you still convinced he killed Haley Cross because he thought it was me?”
“Yes,” Wincott said. “Like I said before, it was rainy and dark, and Cross was about your height, maybe a little taller, and had dark hair like yours. If he came up behind her, it would be an easy mistake to think she was you. And you let Morris know where you would be,” he said. “You know, that article and photo from the paper Henry cut out and framed?”
She nodded. She knew where John was headed.
“At the dedication, you said that you ran the jogging path every Monday, Wednesday, and Friday. We believe Morris read the article and went to Conrad Park to wait for you. I don’t think he went there to kill you. I think it just got out of hand. He probably wanted to convince you to give him the grant. He must have been shocked when he realized he’d grabbed the wrong woman. Maybe that’s what triggered his rage.”
“You told me she fought him.”
“Yes,” Wincott said. “One of the workmen left his hammer. Morris saw it, picked it up, and killed her.” He looked at Alec when he added, “But it’s finished now. When the DNA results come back, we’ll have enough to put Morris away for three lifetimes.”
He stood and offered Regan his hand.
“John, I can’t thank you enough,” she said.
“Things should wrap up fairly quickly. The prosecutor’s office will be in touch with you and let you know where things will go from here.” He glanced at Alec. “I should be going.”
Alec didn’t follow him. He pushed the door shut so he could have a moment of privacy with her. He needed to say good-bye.
“Listen, Regan…” he began, and then stopped. He was suddenly tongue-tied.
“Yes?” She looked into his eyes and waited.
“You knew I was going to leave.”
“Yes, I did.”
“Okay then. I’m going home to pack up, and then I’m driving to Boston.”
“To see your family?”
He nodded. He sounded resolute when he muttered, “That’s right.”
“And then the FBI.”
“Right again. I’m moving forward.”
Did he know he was breaking her heart? “I understand.”
“Look… I shouldn’t have…”
She wouldn’t let him finish. If he told her that he shouldn’t have made love to her, she didn’t know what she would do. “I don’t have any regrets. You should go home now and pack.”
He leaned down and kissed her forehead. “Yeah, I should.”
She opened the door. “Remember, Alec, you’re moving forward.”
“That’s right. I am.”
“Then go.”
“If you’re ever in Boston…”
Chapter Forty-two
Sometimes extraordinary things can happen on the most ordinary of days.
When Eric Gage opened his eyes early Saturday morning, he knew that today was going to be extraordinary. He couldn’t explain why, not yet anyway, but he believed that as the day progressed, he would come to understand.
Eric had learned not to question.
The answer came much quicker than he had anticipated. He got out of bed, put on his robe, and shuffled into the kitchen. He was standing at the sink pouring himself a glass of orange juice when he heard it. A whisper from behind. A hiss really, and though he tried, he couldn’t quite make out what the hiss was trying to tell him.
He didn’t look behind him. He didn’t need to, for he knew who was there in the kitchen with him. He closed his eyes and waited for the whisper to come again. Five minutes passed, then five more, and still the only sound he heard was the thunder of his heartbeat.
He began to doubt. Maybe he had imagined it. He decided to get on with his day and his chores. By six A.M. he had dressed in his old work clothes and had driven to his neighborhood QuikTrip to buy an extra-large cup of coffee.
By seven-thirty he had cleaned out the garage-a ritual he completed every Saturday-and had eaten his breakfast and prepared a tray for Nina. Then he showered and dressed in a brand-new black running suit with a narrow, white stripe down the outside of each leg. The lightweight jacket had a white cloverleaf logo on the breast pocket. The zippered pockets were the reason he’d purchased it.
There were two loaded guns in the bureau drawer. He put one in his right pocket. When he zipped the pocket
