The Negotiator (19 page)

Read The Negotiator Online

Authors: Dee Henderson

“You’re sure?”

He sounded disappointed, and she regretted that. “Yes.” She caught the red flash from the security grid out of the corner of her eye and turned.

Dave got up to check and looked frustrated at the interruption. “It’s Susan and Travis.”

She picked up their two bowls and stacked them. “Go meet them.”

He looked at her and hesitated.

She smiled, touching his arm. “Dave, I’m not trying to shut you out. I’m just not at liberty to talk about some issues yet. I’m sorry. I may be able to tell you later.”

He squeezed her hand. “Just don’t keep secrets that are going to affect your safety, okay?”

She couldn’t answer that; she wasn’t going to lie to him. He went to meet Susan and Travis.

The patrol officer arrived with the tapes as Travis and Susan walked the grounds with Dave. Kate set up the answering machine on the coffee table in the living room. Why Dave felt the need to have two agents on the grounds tonight she didn’t understand, but trying to change his mind about something he had settled on was a hopeless cause.

She heard the front door close and glanced up as Dave came back into the living room. “Which one do we start with?”

He settled in the chair across from the couch. “The one that just came from your machine. I want to know if he called back after the bomb went off.”

Nodding, she found the tape. It was a full tape of calls; the point in time that her name was leaked to the media was obvious by the immediate bombardment of the media. Nothing useful.

Kate put in the first tape with the call from Wednesday afternoon and picked up a pad of paper and pen to make sure she transcribed it word for word.

“Hello, Kate O’Malley. I’ve been looking for you, and what do I see—you made the news last night. We’ll have to meet soon.”

“Have to meet soon? The guy is stalking you!”

She had heard too many of them over the years to give it that kind of weight. She had known they were going to disagree on this; she tried to placate Dave’s concern. “The call talks about the bank holdup. Yes, it sounds like a convict from a case I’ve worked, but that doesn’t mean he has me located yet.” She ignored his frown. “Here’s the one you heard.”

“Hello, Kate. I taped the news tonight. Sounds like you have trouble coming your way. Soon it will be more than you can handle.”

The laugh made her shiver. “If that is the bomber, the words could be interpreted as a reference to the plane.”

She looked at the jotted notes on the cassettes. “This one would have been—Saturday afternoon.”

“I think you’ve given up trying to catch me. Does that mean I win?”

“Different voice,” Dave said immediately.

“Yes. We’ve already got an idea who this guy is. There’s an outstanding warrant for his arrest on an unrelated matter.” Kate drew a line through the words she had written. She changed the tapes. “Last one. Monday morning.”

“Did you enjoy your weekend? It will be the last one for a while.”

“That sounds like another reference to the plane.”

She frowned, looking at the words. “Maybe.”

“Let’s hear the cleaned up tape from the tower.”

She found her pocket recorder, inserted the tape, and pressed the play button.

“The bomb goes off at eleven-fifteen. The plane is talking to the tower. Tell Kate O’Malley I haven’t forgotten the past.”

“The same voice,” Dave said grimly.

Her hand shaking slightly, Kate rewound the tape to play it again. It was the same voice. “Call Jim, tell him to pull my phone records.”
The bomber had been calling her.
The fear was overwhelming. Could she have prevented all of this? The crash? Her stomach roiled at the thought.

Dave was already dialing. “You are not going back to your apartment till we find this guy, Kate.” For once she totally agreed with him; changing cities sounded like a good option right now. Someone wanted her dead. He was toying with her, mocking her, and warning her he was coming.
The black rose of death.
She had probably totally misjudged that “gift” as well as the calls.

Dave got her boss on the line and explained what they had found and arranged to send the tapes to the lab. He hung up the phone.

“Kate!” Dave’s hand closed around the back of her neck and pushed her head down. “Don’t you dare pass out.”

She needed that stinging voice to pull her back from the brink. “Sorry,” she mumbled, feeling the rush of blood returning to her face.

He briskly rubbed her back. “Don’t do that! You scared me,” he complained.

She pushed his hands away, sitting back up. She took a deep breath to push away the tremors. “The rose, Dave. It’s not Tersh, it’s the bomber. It’s a black rose of death.”

Dave paled. “He was at your apartment?”

“Yeah. I think so. It’s too coincidental that Bobby Tersh would appear within days of that call and the message ‘we’ll have to meet soon.’”

“Did the black roses make the papers five years ago?”

“They were mentioned when Tersh was arrested, then committed.”

She looked at him, hoping he would contradict her interpretation. He didn’t. “Bobby’s car was never seen in Illinois.”

“The bomber borrowed his MO,” she agreed, feeling cold.

Set it aside, she demanded of herself. There was more information about this guy available now that they knew he was making the calls. Don’t you dare overreact to this threat! You’ve vowed never to let someone else dictate, control your life by fear. You’re letting him win!

The reminder settled the emotions, shoved them aside, and calmed her inside.
That’s better. Control the situation; don’t let it control you.

She got up to pace. “They were running the tests this afternoon to find out where the bomb threat call originated. What did they find out?”

“Hold on.” He called Bob Roberts and asked the question. “How certain are they about that?” He scrawled something on the pad of paper. “Okay. Thanks.” He hung up the phone.

“Bob says they’ve determined the call was not made from inside any of the terminals. The power levels drop way off inside the building. Outside, the area is harder to pinpoint. The power levels were consistent along a strip of ground that goes from the general aviation terminal to the long-term parking lot. They found one area of elevated ground by the parking area that would let you look down onto the runways. If you wanted to watch what happened, that would be a good location.”

Kate nodded at the news, but her focus had already shifted. Had she ever heard this voice before? When? Where? The bomb threat was as clear as the lab would be able to get it. She closed her eyes as she listened to it, again, and then again.

Come on. She could nail this guy if she could just remember the voice.…

She paced over to the window, holding the recorder to her ear as she played it again. Likely a bomb case…one by one she went through the list of names they had focused on from her past cases, and one by one she eliminated them. They would do it officially at the lab with the tapes on file, but she didn’t forget faces or voices.

She felt like throwing the recorder but instead dropped herself down on the couch. “I don’t know the voice.”

“It was a long shot that you would.”

She shook her head. “I don’t forget voices, and if I haven’t met him, then we’ve got real trouble.” She got up to pace back to the window. “How are we going to catch a ghost?” She saw a car pull up to the distant security gate and heard Dave move to check the monitor.

“Marcus is here.”

Kate rather numbly gathered up the evidence that would need to go to the police lab. She sealed the tapes and marked the evidence bag. Marcus was back. He hadn’t called. There were several ways to interpret that, and she didn’t know which one to prepare for.

Marcus paused just inside the doorway. She had never seen that look before on her brother’s face. He held out his hand. “Kate, let’s take a walk.”

She set down the pad of paper without a word and joined him. The sun was low in the sky now, and the breeze from earlier in the day had died down. She had been through so much with Marcus. He didn’t want to hurt her; she could see it in his face. She was braced for the bad news long before he spoke.

“No one has seen him since the blast. He’s gone underground.”

He had run. If there had been doubts about Tony Jr.’s involvement, hope that somehow she was wrong, they crumbled in the dust. “There was no one at his home?”

“His wife, Marla. Clearly frightened, nervous, but I think telling the truth. She hasn’t seen him since Tuesday morning.”

Tony was married. She hadn’t considered that possibility. If he had a good life, why destroy it? Did he hate Nathan so much? Was losing the business so impossible to live with that he took it out on innocent people?

“There are men watching his house. This is being kept very close to the vest as the facts are checked out—it’s high priority, getting a lot of resources, but need-to-know for now.”

She nodded, knowing they had to move quickly.

“We should have a good bio on him in the next couple hours. But I’ve already learned one fact you need to know. He worked as a baggage handler at O’Hare several years ago. He was dismissed under suspicious circumstances. There wasn’t enough to charge him, but eight others in his section went to jail for moving drugs.”

“So he knows both security procedures and people who still work there.”

“That’s a safe assumption.”

She shuddered at the pieces of this puzzle. “You’re saying he did it.”

“I don’t know. Marla went pale as a ghost at the suggestion. She clearly believes he had nothing to do with it. I asked if she knew anything about the meeting with Nathan, and while she didn’t know specifics, she surprised me by offering us access to the company books. It’s possible the threat of losing the company was sufficient motive. He probably had access to the explosives. We’ll have to find out.”

There wasn’t much doubt really. He had the means and the motive; he had the opportunity. “He’s disappeared.”

“Not a good reality, but if he thought there was enough circumstantial evidence to make him look guilty? Maybe he panicked. It wouldn’t be the first time we’ve seen that.”

“Did Marla know Tony had a sister?”

“No. He’s never mentioned you.”

They walked in silence. She tried to absorb the news he had given her but was too tired now to do more than nod. “Get me another place to stay.”

“What? Why?”

“I don’t want to be here when the word gets out. You know what the media is going to be like. ‘Cop’s Brother Prime Suspect in Bombing.’ I don’t want Dave pulled into the middle of this.” She didn’t want to be near him twenty-four hours a day when the doubts, the suspicions, tore apart what might have become a good friendship.

“Kate, I wish you would reconsider. I think you need Dave’s help. He’s good at his job.”

“I know he is, but I don’t want him in the middle of this. Please.”

Marcus sighed. “Think about it, in light of what we now know. If Tony is the man responsible, look at what he has done. He killed Nathan not caring how many others he killed. He pulled you directly into it by putting your name in the bomb threat. He’s striking out at those who he thinks are responsible for his problems.”

“He doesn’t know me.”

“He probably thinks he does. I’m sure your father had you as the person responsible for all his problems. I’m sure Tony Jr. thinks all the grief he endured in that household was because of you. When he snaps, he goes after Nathan and he goes after you.”

“How did he find out who I am?”

“Can you imagine how the bank incident played in the old neighborhood? Some of those folks have lived there forty years. Someone would have remembered what happened to little Kate Emerson.”

“I haven’t thought about the name Emerson for a decade, and now it’s back to ruin my life.”

“Kate—”

“Okay, maybe during domestic violence cases. But I closed it off and left it behind.” She sighed. “Find me somewhere else to stay. I need some space, and Dave is already beginning to subtly push. He knows something is wrong.”

“The news will hold for the night. Give me a day.”

She reluctantly agreed.

“Stephen, Jack, Lisa—they will be by later.”

“You’ve already told them?” At his look, she gave an apologetic smile. “Sorry.” Tony was her embarrassment, but Marcus was right; it was a family problem.

His arm around her shoulders tightened. “You should be. We stick together, Kate. It will help to have real family around you.”

“Marcus, thanks for the thought, but not tonight. Let me get some sleep. Come pick me up tomorrow morning.”

“You’re sure?”

She forced a smile. “I’m sure.”

They walked back to the house in silence. He gave her a long hug before he let go. “I’ll see you first thing in the morning.”

She nodded and watched until he had made the turn in the drive before closing the door and walking back to the living room. Dave was fast-forwarding through the security tapes. He looked up, got to his feet, and came to meet her. She could only imagine what she looked like to put that expression on his face. “Kate—”

She simply couldn’t face telling him. She wanted it all to go away. Did that make her a coward? She didn’t care. “Would you mind if I looked at the security tapes tomorrow? I need a few hours sleep.”

He hesitated, then nodded. “Sure. Come on. I’ll show you to one of the guest rooms.”

She retrieved her bag, and he showed her to the guest room at the top of the stairs, gave her a fast review of the security panel if she was up during the night, then laid out fresh towels and got her a new toothbrush.

“Thanks.”

The back of his hand brushed down her cheek. “Get some sleep.”

When he left, she looked at the wide bed and didn’t even bother to pull back all the covers. She collapsed on them, caught a corner of the quilt, and brought it up around her shoulders. The way life was going, she wanted simply to shut it out for a few hours.

Fifteen

T
he page woke her up. It was dark outside, and she came awake, momentarily confused before locating her pager on the nightstand. She pushed back the blanket draped over her; Dave must have tucked her in at some point in the night. She looked at the numbers, saw the area code, and let her heart rate settle. It wasn’t the dispatcher. The area code made it Jennifer.

She looked around for her phone, then remembered she had called her boss last. She had probably left the phone in the living room. Moving quietly, she left the bedroom, changed the security grid as Dave had shown her, and went downstairs. She didn’t turn on the lights; the cast of moonlight was enough light to move around by. She curled up in a corner of the couch, drew up her knees, then stared at the glowing numbers on the phone. She had to pull in a deep breath before she began to dial. If this was more bad news, she was going to shatter.

“Hi, Jennifer.”

“Kate, I just got the message Marcus left with my answering service. I’ve got reservations for the first flight out in the morning. I should be there by six.”

Kate leaned her head down against her knees and started crying. “Jennifer—”

“I can come sit in a hospital and be poked anytime. I’d rather come hang out with you.”

She laughed around the tears. “You guys are priceless, you know that?”

“We’re family.”

“Yes.” It felt so good to hear that reassurance. She drew a deep breath and smiled. “We’ll talk about your coming back early in a minute. First, tell me how the tests you’ve had are going.”

Dave heard Kate moving around shortly before eleven, heard the stairs creak as she went downstairs. Restless? Dealing with bad dreams? Either case, he didn’t like it. He frowned and pulled a pillow over to ease the strain on his neck. She had looked almost deathly gray when she had come back from talking with Marcus, and he had been hoping she would sleep through the night. He hated the strain he didn’t understand, the fact she didn’t trust him enough to tell him what was wrong even more. He waited, wondering if she had slipped downstairs to the kitchen to get a drink, but he heard nothing. And when she didn’t return, he quietly got up and got dressed.

He kept a hand on the banister as he walked downstairs, wondering what he would find.

Kate was curled up on the couch, knees drawn up, her phone dangling in one hand. He could hear the muted tone of an off-hook signal. She had apparently finished a call but had not yet moved to close the phone.

He crossed the room to join her, clicked on the table lamp, and sank into the couch cushions beside her. She was silently crying. He took the phone from her limp hand. “Who were you talking to?”

“Jennifer. She paged me.”

He wanted so badly to wipe away her tears. He let himself wipe at two, which drew a shaky smile from her. She backhanded her sleeve across her face.

“What’s wrong, Kate?”

She closed her eyes, then looked over at him. “She’s at the Mayo Clinic.”

Understanding flickered across his face, and when he pulled her to him, she went willingly. He didn’t let go of the hug. He didn’t have words to heal the pain he saw.

“She’s got cancer. Probably terminal.”

She kept her head buried against his shoulder, hiding. He rubbed her back, wishing she would show more than silent tears. It made sense now. It was family, and with Kate that would strike at her very heart.

She pulled back after a few moments, scrubbed a hand across her face. “She hasn’t told the others in the family. It makes it hard. There is no one to talk to.”

“There’s me.”

She touched the wet stain on his shirt and gave a rueful smile. “I wish she had let me go with her. I would have been far away from the crash.”

“They are running tests?”

“Trying to determine a treatment plan.” She bit her bottom lip. “It’s around her spine, into her liver. Mortality rates are horrible.”

“The engagement?”

“Tom didn’t want to wait.”

“I can understand that.” He looked at the tired circles under her eyes and thought back to the basketball game. “When did she tell you?”

“Monday night.”

He rubbed the bridge of his nose. “And the plane exploded Tuesday morning.”

She half laughed. “It’s been a
really
bad week.” She rubbed her arms. “Jennifer wanted to come back early. I told her no.”

He hesitated. “Is she a Christian?”

“Yes.” She looked over at him, and under the weariness, he saw something approaching defeat. It troubled him more than anything else he had ever seen. “She gave me her Bible; she wants me to read the book of Luke.”

He stilled, praying for the right words. “Kate—”

“I don’t want to hurt her, Dave, not Jennifer.”

There were fresh tears appearing, and he understood better than she could comprehend. “You can’t believe just because Jennifer wants you to.” It would break her heart to hurt someone in her family. He smiled and gently brushed away one of the tears. She was past the hard part and didn’t even realize it—she
wanted
to be able to believe. “Have you read Luke yet?”

“No.”

“Set aside your preconceived notions and just read it. I’m sure that’s all Jennifer is asking.”

He hated the fragileness he saw. She was coming apart at the seams; she was so tired, worried, and given the black rose and phone calls—rightfully scared. And he still didn’t think he knew everything she was hiding; he still didn’t understand what about the bank interview had troubled her. “Come here.” He didn’t give her a choice. He simply wrapped her into his arms and tucked her head back against his shoulder. “You’ll get through this, Kate.”

She sighed. “Sometimes I envy you.”

He brushed back her hair. “Why?”

“You can still hope.”

She went silent, and he waited, hoping for another glimmer into what she was thinking. After a few minutes passed, he rubbed her arm. “Want some hot chocolate?” She needed a distraction, and it was the only thing he could think of.

“In June?”

He heard the amusement. “Yes, in June. Come on; it will do you some good. You’re cold.”

She eased herself away from him. “Got marshmallows?”

“Somewhere.”

“You need lots of them.”

He settled his arm comfortably around her shoulders as she swayed a bit on her feet. “Do you?”

“Of course, but if you don’t have many, you can put the mug into the microwave, and they puff up really big so you can make a few seem like a lot.”

He buried a smile. Definitely exhausted. “Now why does that sound like an O’Malley guy solution?”

“They never remember to go shopping.”

“So you help them out.”

“Someone has to.”

He turned on the kitchen light, and she winced. “Ouch. Headache coming.”

“I’ll find you some aspirin.”

He settled her onto the kitchen chair and frowned at her bare feet. He disappeared for a moment to come back with clean socks. “Careful you don’t go sliding with them on, but at least they’re warm.”

“Thanks.”

“Don’t mention it.” He found aspirin for her headache, then went to look through the cupboard. “Do you want milk chocolate or dark chocolate?”

“You’re making it from scratch?”

“I actually surprised you.” He grinned. “Is this a first?”

“Probably. But only because it’s late. Dark chocolate.”

“Coming up.”

He was relieved to see a little life coming back into her eyes.

She idly ate a pretzel from the dish. “I forgot to tell you company would be over early.”

“O’Malleys?”

“Marcus, if not the full clan.”

“I like your family.”

She rested her chin on her hand. “I wish you had met Jennifer.”

“Did she always want to be a doctor?”

“As far back as I can remember. You should have seen her playing doctor at Trevor House. It was annoying. She would turn our bedroom into a waiting room for her patients.”

“She had a lot of them?”

“Anybody younger than her with a sniffle. I’d have to play the receptionist to protect my stuff.”

“Sounds like a rough time.”

“I especially liked it when the boys would come to have their scrapes patched over. If you went to the house mom, you got grounded for fighting, so there was an underground black market for Band-Aids.”

“Did Jennifer know?”

“I didn’t tell her.” She shrugged. “Hey, it was free enterprise. They were the ones who got into the fights.”

“How many did you get into?”

“With a budding doctor as a roommate? If I showed up with a scraped knuckle from a fight, she would take a strip off my hide. Why do you think I became a negotiator? It was pure self-preservation.”

He brought over two mugs of hot chocolate. “Enough marshmallows?”

“Yes. Thanks.”

He sank into the chair beside her. “My pleasure.”

“Are you always this mellow?”

He quirked an eyebrow, amused. “I don’t think I’ve ever been called that before.”

“You’re like one of those cuddle bears, kind of soft and spongy.”

“Kate, you need some more sleep.”

“Are you blushing?” She pushed herself up in her seat. “You are!”

“I’m opinionated and stubborn, and I have that on good authority.”

“Whose?”

“Sara’s.”

“What were you playing heavy-handed brother about when she told you that?”

He frowned at her. “Why do you assume I was at fault?”

“Three brothers. I have experience.”

“I’m not heavy-handed.”

“You admitted someone could tweak your tiger tail, so fess up.”

He scowled. “I am not tattling. And don’t try to pester it out of me, either. You and Sara are cut from the same cloth. It won’t work.”

She grinned and dunked a marshmallow with her spoon. “Your roar is really cute with that British accent.”

He closed his eyes. “Drink your chocolate.”

“Tired?”

“Are you sure you weren’t raiding the sugar stash before I came down?”

“When I’m tired, I talk. It’s how you stay awake during a long negotiation.”

He looked over at her and felt something remarkably like love. Every one of her defenses was down. This was the real Kate under all the layers, and he was falling in love with her. The problems of that reality he would deal with in the light of day. “Then keep talking,” he said gently.

She nibbled on a pretzel. “Believe it or not, I’m running out of subjects.”

He grinned. “You?”

“I didn’t figure you would want any Aunt Gladys stories.”

“Have a repertoire, do you?”

“She’s a spunky lady. She’s done everything from skiing to skydiving.”

“Of course. She was created by an O’Malley.”

“You’ve got it.” She tipped her mug and frowned. “Got any more hot chocolate? I’ve hit empty.”

“Of course.” Her aim was a little off when she handed him the mug. He looked at her more sharply. Past exhausted, getting punchy. Convincing her to go back to bed soon moved up a notch on his priority list. He brought the bag of marshmallows with him back to the table.

She speared one with a pretzel and spun it like a top. “We used to feed these to the squirrels.”

He grinned. “Quit playing with your food.”

She grinned back. “Have you ever seen a squirrel try to eat one of these? They’re sticky inside, and they have to sit and clean their paws forever.”

“We get raccoons around here occasionally. They like them.”

“I watched a snake eat one once. Lisa came in and shrieked.”

“You smuggled a snake into her room?”

She frowned at him. “It was her snake. She thought he had eaten Rachel’s hamster.”

“Let me get this right—Trevor House, which does not allow pets, had you hiding a dog, Lisa hiding a snake, and Rachel hiding a hamster?”

“Well, kind of. There were the other pets we hid in the garden shed, but that didn’t really count because the groundskeeper smuggled in the food. Besides, Lisa arrived at Trevor House with a lizard in her backpack. It wasn’t fair not to let her keep it. And once we hid the lizard, it just kind of got easier to, well,
add
things.”

“Why do I get the feeling you were the chief instigator of this endeavor?”

Her smile was touched with seriousness. “It was important that the place feel something like home. Everyone should have a pet.”

He cradled his mug, liking her all the more. “Marcus protected the O’Malleys, and you watched out for them.” She shrugged, not admitting to it. She didn’t have to. It was in practically every story she told. From protecting Jack’s feelings about his cooking, to guarding Jennifer’s dream of becoming a doctor. “I think I like you, Kate.”

She grinned. “You’re not sure?”

“Pushing for a compliment?”

She laughed and ate the marshmallow.

“Come on. You need to go back to bed.”

“I’m too tired to go to sleep.”

“Then let’s at least move you away from the sugar.”

She wrinkled her nose at him but finished the hot chocolate. “That really was good. You didn’t scorch it like I sometimes do.”

He took her mug to the sink. “Nothing is worse than scorched milk in the middle of the night.”

“Tell me about it.”

“Buy instant. It will make your life easier.” His hands on her shoulders, he turned her back to the living room. “You’re going to have a rat’s tail to brush out tomorrow.”

“Thanks for noticing.”

“Don’t mention it.” He tugged her down on the couch beside him. “Feet.”

She frowned at him but picked up her feet. He tucked the throw cover firmly around them, then made her comfortable against his shoulder. “If you’re not going to sleep, at least close your eyes.”

“What are you planning to watch?”

He flipped the remote over a couple channels. “The replay of the Cubs game.”

“They lose.”

“How do you know?”

She tilted her head back. “Because they were playing Milwaukee.”

“That insures they were going to lose?”

She sighed and gave him a long-suffering look that said he didn’t understand baseball. “They were going to lose. Check the scores showing on ESPN News if you don’t believe me.”

She was so certain she was right he flipped the channels to prove her wrong. She was right. The Cubs lost by three runs.

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