“I’ve seen enough this week to last me a lifetime. Maybe Jeffreys did deserve to die. But by pinning the other two murders on him, you let another murderer get away. You closed the investigation. You made a community feel safe again.”
“I did what I thought was necessary.”
“Don’t tell me. Tell that to Laura Alverez and Michelle Tanner. Tell them how you did what was necessary.”
Nick walked away, his knees feeling a bit spongy. There was little victory in telling Antonio Morrelli he had been wrong. Why had he expected there to be some feeling of celebration? But as his boot heels echoed down the quiet hall, he walked a bit taller.
He stopped by the nurses’ station and was startled by the unit secretary dressed in a black cape and witch’s hat. It took a minute before he noticed the orange and black crepe paper and pumpkin cutouts. Of course, today was Halloween. Even the sun had emerged, finally bright enough and warm enough to start melting some of the snow.
He waited patiently while the unit secretary recited ingredients of a recipe into the phone. Her eyes told him she’d only be a moment, but there was no urgency in her voice.
“Hi, Nick.” Sandy Kennedy came up behind him, scooted back behind the secretary and grabbed a clipboard.
“Sandy, you finally made it to the day shift.” He smiled at the shapely brunette, while thinking what a stupid thing to say. Why not “How are you” or “It’s been a long time”? Then he wondered if there was anyplace in this city he could go without running into a former lover or one-night stand.
“Sounds like Christine is doing better,” she said, ignoring his stupid comment.
He tried to remember why he had never pursued a relationship with Sandy. Just seeing her reminded him how bright and beautiful she was. But then, so were all the women he chose. However, not one of them could live up to Maggie O’Dell.
“Nick, are you okay? Can we do something for you?”
Both Sandy and the secretary stared at him.
“Can you tell me Agent O’Dell’s room number?”
“It’s 372,” the secretary said without looking it up. “At the end of the hall and to the right. Although she may be gone.”
“Gone? What do mean gone?”
“She checked out earlier and was just waiting for some clothes. Hers were pretty trashed when she came in last night,” she explained, but Nick already was halfway down the hall.
He burst through the door without knocking, startling Maggie, who turned quickly from the window, then positioned her back- and the open hospital gown-to the wall.
“Jesus, Morrelli, don’t you knock?”
“Sorry.” His heart settled down, almost to its regular rhythm. She looked wonderful. The short, dark hair was smooth and shiny again. Her creamy skin had some color. And her eyes-those luscious brown eyes-actually sparkled. “They said you might be gone.”
“I’m waiting for some clothes. One of the hospital volunteers offered to go shopping for me.” She paced, carefully using the wall to shield her back. “That was about two hours ago. I just hope she doesn’t come back with something pink.”
“The doctor said it’s okay for you to check out?” He tried to make it a simple question. Was there too much concern in his voice?
“He’s leaving it to my discretion.”
She caught him staring at her, and when their eyes met, he held her gaze. He didn’t care if she saw the concern. In fact, he wanted her to see it.
“How’s Christine?” she asked, breaking the trance.
“Surgery went well.”
“What about her leg?”
“The doctor seems certain there won’t be any permanent damage. I just took Timmy in to see her.”
For a minute she stopped pacing. Her eyes softened, though there was a faraway look in them.
“If I didn’t know better, I’d almost believe in happy endings,” she said.
Her eyes met his again, this time accompanied by a faint smile, a slight tug at the corners of her lips. Jesus, she was beautiful when she smiled. He wanted to tell her that. Opened his mouth, in fact, to do just that, then thought better of it. Did she have any idea how scared he was when he thought she’d left without so much as a goodbye? Could she even tell what effect she had on him? The hell with her husband, her marriage. He needed to take the risk, let the chips fall where they may. He needed to tell her he loved her.
Instead, he said, “We arrested Eddie Gillick this morning.” She sat on the edge of the bed and waited for more. “We brought in Ray Howard again for questioning. This time he admitted that sometimes he loaned the old blue pickup to Eddie.”
“The day Danny disappeared?”
“Howard conveniently couldn’t remember. But there’s more-lots more. Eddie came to work for the sheriff’s department the summer before the first killings. The Omaha Police Department had given him a letter of recommendation, but there were three separate reprimands in his file, all for unnecessary force while making arrests. Two of the cases were juveniles. He even broke one kid’s arm.”
“What about the last rites?”
“Eddie’s mom-a single mom, by the way-worked two jobs just to send him to Catholic school, all the way through high school.”
“I don’t know, Nick.”
She didn’t look convinced. It didn’t surprise him. He went on with the rest.
“He would have had access to the evidence in Jeffreys’ case and could easily have framed him. He’s also had access to the morgue. In fact, he was there yesterday afternoon picking up the autopsy photos. He could have easily snatched Matthew’s body when he realized the teeth marks in the photos might ID him. Plus, it would have been easy for him to make a few phone calls, use his badge number and get information on Albert Stucky.”
There was the twitch, the slight grimace at just the mention of the bastard’s name. He wondered if she was conscious of it.
“The morgue is never locked,” Maggie countered. “Anyone could have had access. And much of what happened with Stucky was publicized in the newspapers and tabloids.”
“There’s still more.” He’d left this for last. The most incriminating evidence was the most questionable. “We found some stuff in the trunk of his car.” He let her see his skepticism. Was it Ronald Jeffreys all over again? They were both thinking the same thing.
“What kind of stuff?” Now she was interested.
“The Halloween mask, a pair of black gloves and some rope.”
“Why would he have all that in the trunk of his abandoned car if he knew we were hot on his trail? Especially if he was responsible for framing Jeffreys in the same manner? Also, how did he have time to do all this?”
It was exactly what Nick had wondered, but he wanted desperately for this to be all over.
“My dad just more or less admitted that he knew someone may have planted evidence.”
“He admitted that?”
“Let’s just say he admitted to ignoring the discrepancies.”
“Does your father think Eddie could be the killer?”
“He said he’s sure it’s not Eddie.”
“And that makes you even more convinced that it is?”
Jesus, she knew him well.
“Timmy has a lighter the guy gave him. It has the sheriff’s department emblem on it. It’s a reward type thing that my dad used. He never handed out that many of them. Eddie was one of about five.”
“Lighters get lost,” she said. She stood up and slowly made her way to the window.
This time her mind was clearly far away. She even forgot about the slit in the back of her hospital gown. Though from this angle he could only see a sliver of her back, part of her shoulder. The gown made her look small and vulnerable. He imagined wrapping his arms around her, wrapping his entire body around hers. Just lying with
