Body of Lies (19 page)
It was barely past one o'clock and the streets were already littered with store advertisements taken and discarded, spent wrappings from meals sold by restaurants or street vendors, and whatever other waste could be discarded by passersby. A typical Saturday afternoon.
So it seemed incongruous that an hour later Sammy would be lying in the hallway in some run-down tenement, his lifeblood seeping out of his body from a gunshot wound to his belly. They'd been chasing a pair of teenage purse snatchers who'd pushed down one of the grandmothers and stolen her bag.
Sammy had taken off after the pair, and Zach had no choice but to follow. They headed into the building on Webster Avenue and up the stairs that smelled of urine and other bodily secretions. When one of them veered off onto the third floor Sammy followed him, motioning for Zach to keep pursuing the other.
Even then, Zach had known it was a mistake. Everybody knew Sammy's days of charging in were over except Sammy. He'd probably give himself a heart attack if nothing else. Or he'd be too winded by the time he cornered the kid to actually cuff him. But Zach had continued up the stairs, knowing Sammy would never let him hear the end of it if he didn't follow orders.
He'd kept running up and up, until he heard the gunshot. One single report that sounded loud enough to shake the building. That wasn't Sammy's gun. Zach abandoned his chase and sped down the stairs. He found Sammy on his back, in the hallway, bleeding badly.
Oddly enough, Sammy was smiling. “I know that punk was carrying.”
Sammy was delirious. That was the only explanation for it. Zach used his radio to call in while he tried to stop the flow of blood. His eyes burned and his chest constricted in a tight knot, making breathing difficult. This man had been the closest thing to a father he'd had in the past two years and he didn't know if he could stand to lose another. “Hold on, Sammy,” he said, but he'd never seen so much blood. The bullet must have nicked an artery. He'd probably bleed out before anyone arrived to help.
Sammy shook his head. In a weak voice he said, “You tell Alex I love her.” Sammy's bloodstained hand gripped his arm. “You take care of my little girl. She's yourâ”
Sammy never got to finish. His hand slumped to his side and his eyes rolled shut. Sammy hadn't finished, but Zach filled in the words for him.
She's your responsibility now
. Though Sammy had charged him with that task, he hadn't been man enough to handle it. He'd failed them both. He didn't see how Alex could forgive him for either.
She's your responsibility now
. Though Sammy had charged him with that task, he hadn't been man enough to handle it. He'd failed them both. He didn't see how Alex could forgive him for either.
But they'd forged some sort of truce tonight. For now, that would have to be enough.
Seventeen
Alex looked up at the two-story brick house Zach pulled to a stop in front of. It was a solid house, sturdy, the type of house young couples trying for kids bought hoping the house had the stamina to withstand the onslaught. That surprised her, as she'd thought the home he'd been referring to was really some bachelor pad in a more hip part of town.
Zach cut the engine and got out, going to the trunk to retrieve her bags. She opened her door and got out. The living room light was on, which suggested Zach's niece was still awake. She hadn't given much thought to the girl on the way over. She and Zach had engaged in a stilted and awkward attempt at making small talk, something neither of them proved good at. But now she wondered what kind of welcome she'd receive from the girl.
When Zach opened the door for her to enter first, Alex's attention was immediately drawn to the stairs to the right. A young girl came bounding down. She was dressed in a pair of shorts and a T-shirt, probably what she planned to wear to bed. Alex's first thought was that the girl was beautiful in a way that highlighted the blood-tie between her and Zach. They had the same eyes, the same coloring. Only secondarily did Alex notice that the girl was speaking.
“Uncle Zach, I've been waiting up to apologize for this afternâ” The girl stopped both her speech and her advance. “Oh?” Her gaze traveled from Alex to Zach and back. “Who are you?”
There was no animosity in the girl's face, only curiosity, which suited Alex fine. “I'm Alex Waters.”
“Way to be rude,” Zach added. “Alex is going to be staying with us a few days.”
The girl's eyebrows lifted. “I see.”
“No, you don't,” Zach countered. “Now scoot. You can apologize to me later.”
“We'll see.” The girl turned and huffed up the stairs.
“In case you're wondering,” Zach said, setting down her bags. “I caught her on the couch with a boy this afternoon.”
“I take it that's against house rules.”
“That and she's worried I'll tell her dad.”
“Would you?”
“Are you kidding? He'd probably assume it was my influence rubbing off on her. Besides, I'm not exactly credible playing the sex police.”
She supposed not, considering her presence there. Obviously the girl assumed she was there for some reason other than her personal protection. “Well, I'm ready to turn in if you point me in the right direction. Then you can deal with your niece.”
“Thanks.”
There were three bedrooms on the second floor: the master bedroom, the one Stevie occupied, and a smaller one barely big enough to accommodate a bed and dresser.
Zach set her bags inside the room. “I put clean sheets on the bed this afternoon. The bathroom is down the hall. If you need anything, just holler.”
“Thanks, but I don't think I'll be needing anything.”
“Good night, then.” He paused, his eyes skimming her face. “It's going to be all right, Alex.” He trailed a finger down her cheek.
She blinked, surprised. It was the first time he'd touched her in any way and she wasn't prepared for it.
The smile eased away from his face. “Well, anyway, good night.” He turned and left, closing the door behind him.
Alex let out a heavy sigh. Obviously he'd taken her surprise for revulsion, which was far from the case. Feeling tired and disheartened she stripped out of her clothes and got into bed. The mattress was soft and the room was cool. She drifted to sleep within seconds.
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After he left Alex, Zach went to Stevie's room and knocked on the door. She answered almost immediately, crossed her arms, and shot him an impatient look. “What?”
He chose to ignore her belligerence. “I'd like to talk.”
She stepped aside to let him enter. He sat on one corner of her bed, which was still made up. “Say what you have to say, Stevie.”
She seemed to consider that a moment. “Seriously?”
“Sure.”
She shook her head, as if in disbelief. “Well, you got on my case about having a guy here. Then you move your girlfriend in. Not too much of a double standard.”
He'd expected as much. “First off, you didn't just have a guy over, he was all over you. If anything, you should be thanking me for letting him get out of here with all his body parts intact. But I don't blame him; I blame you. You agreed to the rules before you came here.”
“I know.”
“Then is there something you want to say to me?”
“I'm sorry for this afternoon. I said that already.”
“That's not it.”
“I won't do it again.”
He wondered if her crossed-arm, head-down stance was for effect or if she actually did regret what she'd done. Either way, he felt too much like a stern father, too much like his brother, for his own comfort. He patted the bed beside him as an invitation for her to sit. She did and leaned her cheek against his shoulder.
“And just so you know, Alex isn't my girlfriend. She's a friend who needs a place to stay. If you weren't so busy moping in here”âhe tugged on the set of earphones around her neck that still emitted a tinny whine of musicâ“you might have noticed she's in the room next to yours, not in mine.”
“Oh.”
“So are we cool now?”
She gave a shudder. “Don't say cool, okay? Adults just shouldn't try to sound like kids.”
He resisted the urge to tell her cool was cool long before she was born. “Have we an accord, then?”
She made a groaning noise. “Yeah, we're cool.”
He patted her leg. “I'm going to bed. Don't stay up too late.”
“I won't.”
Yeah, and he was Joan of Arc, too. “See you in the morning.”
He went to his bedroom, stripped off his clothes, and got into bed. It had been a long, mostly unproductive day. Sleep didn't come easily and his mind refused to settle down, turning the investigation over and over until nothing made sense.
Then there was Alex only two doors away. Was she asleep already or was she as tormented as he?
Alex woke to the scent of waffles and bacon cooking. In her sleepy state she contemplated what distinguished the scent of waffles from ordinary pancakes and couldn't put her finger on it. She only knew she knew the difference.
Her second thought was a bit of wonderment that waffles were being cooked at all. In order to cook waffles one had to be domesticated enough to own a waffle iron. She hadn't expected Zach would be.
She stretched and threw off her covers. Regardless of what was cooking or who was cooking it, she realized she was hungry. She put on her robe, grabbed a pair of jeans, a T-shirt, and underwear and headed to the bathroom. A brief shower later, she was dressed and heading down the stairs toward the kitchen. She doubted Zach was the one plying his culinary skills, since his door was still closed and his niece's was open.
“I hope you're hungry,” the girl said as Alex walked into the kitchen.
Alex had to stop thinking of her as “the girl.” “What's your name?”
“Stevie. It's really Stephanie, but everybody calls me Stevie.”
“My real name is Alexandra, but everybody calls me Alex.”
Stevie smiled, gesturing toward the table in a way that indicated she should have a seat. “Hi, Alex. You want some waffles? I only burned them a little.”
“Sure.” Alex sat at the table where milk, sugar, butter, and syrup were already laid out on a little tray. Alex wondered at that, since it was obviously a breakfast table. Did she plan on serving Zach, also?
“I made some coffee, too.” She placed a mug of it in front of Alex before removing the items from the tray and putting them on the table.
So it was she, not Zach, whom Stevie had planned to butter up with a breakfast tray. Interesting. What exactly did this girl want from her? Alex added milk and sugar to her cup, deciding to let the girl play her own hand. “Can I help with anything?”
“No, I got it covered.” Stevie came over to deposit a plate with three whopping waffles and several rashers of bacon in front of Alex.
Maybe the girl was trying to fatten her up, as well, Alex thought, amused.
Stevie slid into the seat across from her, one leg curled beneath her and one elbow on the table. She propped her chin on her fist. “So how do you know my uncle?”
That didn't take long. Alex took her time pouring syrup on her waffles. “Aren't you going to have some?”
“I don't eat carbs and fat.”
Alex almost laughed, since Stevie didn't mind practically shoving the same down her throat. Alex cut a piece of waffle off with her fork and brought it to her mouth and chewed. “They're really good. You should try some.”
Stevie made an impatient noise. Silently Alex chided herself. As a psychologist she should be above playing head games with a sixteen-year-old. “My father was your uncle's first partner. I was a little bit younger than you are when I met him.”
“Oh.” The girl eased into a regular sitting position. “Your dad was a cop? That bites, doesn't it?”
“Yean, pretty much,” Alex had to agree, though she hoped Stevie's motivation for thinking so was different from her own.
“I mean, he thinks he knows everything and every guy I know is terrified of him.”
“I know what you mean.”
She shrugged. “Uncle Zach is all right, though, most of the time.”
Alex supposed that most of the time didn't include when he'd walked in on her. Alex studied the girl's face a moment. Despite the turn of the conversation, she suspected Stevie was well loved and cared for. Her malaise was probably situational, predicated on whatever problem had led her to staying with her uncle instead of at home. And if Alex read her right, protective feelings for her uncle had led her to question Alex, not pure nosiness. But since Alex was a cop's kid, Stevie apparently figured she was okay.
Alex swallowed another bite of waffle. “How long have you been staying with your uncle?”
“Just a few days. But he's never here. He's working on some case.”
And providing her none of the attention she needed to get from somewhere. “You knew he was on his way home yesterday, didn't you?”
Stevie's eyes widened. “Yeah. I called the station house and they said he was on his way. How did you know?”
Alex shrugged. “You don't seem that stupid to me.”
Stevie laughed. “Are you trying to get something going with my uncle?”
That veered into none-of-your-business territory, but Alex was curious as to whether Stevie thought that was a good idea or not. “I don't know. Should I?”
Stevie tilted her head to one side and bit her lower lip, contemplating her answer. She leaned forward and whispered conspiratorially, “I think my dad thinks he cheated on his ex-wife.”
Zach had been married? She didn't know why that information surprised her. Few decent men in their late thirties survived without being snared by some woman. “But you don't think so?”
Stevie shook her head. “I don't know. I thought he really loved her, and she was, well ...”
“What?”
“Did you ever go to the zoo and see the baby monkeys clinging to their mothers' neck? That's what she reminded me of.”
Alex couldn't resist a chuckle. “Too needy?”
“Way too. Not that it's any of my business.”
True, but Alex wondered at the reversal in the girl's attitude. She had her answer a moment later when she felt Zach's hand at the back of her chair.
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