Dead Reckoning (10 page)

“Look, not everyone can afford to be late the way you are,” she snapped.

He cut her a sharp look. “Aren’t you the least bit curious how Ellis knew that hidden camera was there?”

“Of course I am. But not at the expense of blowing a case because I don’t show up for court on time.”

“I’ll get you there on time,” he said and hit the gas.

 
WEDNESDAY, JANUARY 25, 1:02 P.M.

Frank wasn’t sure why he was dragging Kate along. He suspected it had something to do with the way she wore that suit. Or maybe the way that skirt crept up her thighs when she sat down and crossed those long, shapely legs. Maybe it was the way her scent filled the cab of the truck. Or maybe he had a point to prove, and he wanted her to be there when he did it.

He parked in the rear lot, where the cops parked, and they entered the Jack Evans Police Headquarters building through a rear door.

“I’ve never come in this way before,” Kate said.

“Faster to avoid the security checks.”

“Aren’t there rules?”

“Rules usually just slow things down.”

He’d called Detective Bates on his cell during the ride over to let him know they were on the way. Bates wasn’t happy about a last-minute meeting, but Frank had never put too much emphasis on making other people happy. Especially when it came to a territorial detective and sloppy police work.

Frank knew his way around the police department, but it wasn’t easy being back. He’d rather swallow his tongue than admit it, but he missed being a cop. The surprised expressions and uncomfortable greetings didn’t elude him as he wound through the CAPERS unit toward homicide.

“You know a lot of people,” Kate commented as they entered the homicide division.

“Yeah, I’m a regular social butterfly.”

“They usually make me wait.”

“It’s that Megabitch thing.” He softened the words with a smile.

“Oh, terrific,” she muttered.

They found Detective Bates on the phone at his desk. He was wearing a gray suit that matched his hair to a T. At some point he’d loosened his tie and it hung askew at his neck. He’d removed his jacket and rolled up the sleeves of a shirt that looked as if he’d been wearing it for a week. Knowing Bates, Frank thought, he probably had.

The detective glared at Frank a moment, then dropped the phone into its cradle. “What the hell is so urgent I had to cancel lunch with my wife?” he asked crossly. “Is this about the Ellis case?”

“Since Ms. Megason has to be in court at two, I’ll cut right to the chase,” Frank said. “We want to know why it wasn’t in the police report that Bruton Ellis knew about the new security camera that had been installed at the Snack and Gas.”

Bates stared blankly at him for a moment, and Frank knew immediately the other man didn’t have a clue what he was talking about. Jesus. He hadn’t been lying when he’d told Kate that cops could be dense at times.

“What security camera?” Bates asked. “We got the whole thing on video.”

“The hidden camera Ellis took out with the shotgun,” Frank said.

“As far as you know that was a random shot to the ceiling and he got the camera by accident,” Bates said.

“That might be funny if you weren’t serious.”

Bates’s left eyelid began to twitch.

“He knew the camera was there,” Frank said. “A
hidden
camera behind a hole in one of the acoustic tiles. He shot it out thinking it would keep his face off the six o’clock news. Do you have any idea how he knew it was there?”

“If Ellis had inside help, then he would have shot out the other tape—the one that was working.”

“Unless his partner in crime wasn’t quite up on things.”

“Sounds like bullshit.” But Bates’s face tinged red. “If it’ll get the DA’s office off my back, I’ll have another look at the video.”

Kate stepped up to Bates’s desk. “We were just at the Snack and Gas, Detective. I’ll double-check with the security company the Snack and Gas headquarters uses, but the clerk told us a new security camera had just been installed. It was hidden from view, so without prior knowledge, Bruton Ellis couldn’t have just walked in and seen it.”

“You telling me you think this was some kind of a botched inside job?” Bates asked, but he was starting to look more intrigued than annoyed.

“I’m telling you Ellis knew about that camera,” Frank said. “I’d sure as hell like to know how, wouldn’t you?”

“So if some employee helped, why did Ellis get caught on tape? Why did he hit the place right after the cash was dropped into the box and walk away with only two hundred bucks? It doesn’t make sense.”

“Or maybe Ellis is just a dumb shit and screwed it up. Either way I’d like to know.”

“I hate to shoot holes in your sail, Matrone, but in the scope of things it doesn’t matter. We got Ellis doing the deed on video. Whether he knew about the camera isn’t an issue because he’s going down.”

“And his accomplice gets off scott-free.” Frank laughed, but it was an unpleasant sound. “Who says the criminal justice system doesn’t work?”

Bates looked like he wanted to leap over the desk. Frank almost wished he would. He was still pissed at the PD for forcing him to retire, and he’d like nothing better than to take his anger out on some smart-ass detective.

“Or maybe your new job with the DA’s office is a little too boring for you, Matrone. Maybe you’ve turned into one of those wannabe, rent-a-cop types.”

“Fuck you.” Despite his efforts to keep a handle on his temper, Frank could feel a vein pulsing at his temple, his hands curling into fists at his sides. In the twelve years he’d been with the Dallas PD, he’d never worked with Bates. But the two men had crossed paths enough times for Frank to know he didn’t like him.

Kate’s voice came to him as if from a great distance. Giving himself a hard mental shake, he hauled himself back from a place he knew better than to venture.

“Ellis knew about that camera and you missed it,” Frank said.

“We got him on tape. He’s in jail. The rest doesn’t matter.”

“It matters if there’s someone else involved.”

“So what did they do? Split the two hundred bucks? Give me a fucking break.”

“Someone told Ellis about the camera, damn it.”

“Maybe Ellis was in the store the day it was installed, for chrissake! Maybe he talked to the guy who installed the camera.” Bates smiled. “Or maybe the CIA is involved and this is some kind of a conspiracy theory to make you look like a fucking idiot. From what I hear, it doesn’t take much.”

“Frank.”

Vaguely he was aware of Kate’s voice, but it was her hand on his arm that brought him back. Stepping back, he looked down at her, saw the look in her eyes and realized he was making a very big impression. A bad one. Without saying a word, he turned and strode toward the door.

Kate came up beside him, matching his pace stride for stride. “That wasn’t very helpful.”

“Fun, though, wasn’t it?”

“Not at all.” She had to trot to keep up with him. “You got a problem with Bates?”

“You mean aside from his being a smug asshole?”

“This isn’t a pissing contest, Frank. I don’t need you rushing in like some loose cannon.”

He gave her a look that had many a man shrinking back. “Back off, Kate.”

But Kate Megason didn’t shrink away. She didn’t even blink. “I don’t care about Bates. What I do care about is this case. We need a good working relationship with the PD to win this.”

“Don’t tell me how to do my job.”

“If you can’t control your temper, you’ll be more of a handicap than an asset, ex-detective or not.”

They reached the elevator. “I’ll take that under advisement,” he said and slapped his hand against the Down button.

SEVEN

WEDNESDAY, JANUARY 25, 11:04 P.M.

The north wind shook the windows and howled around the eaves like a drove of keening ghosts in search of shelter from the cold. But Kate was only vaguely aware of the wind as she sat at her desk in the study of her north Dallas home and stared fixedly at her laptop screen. Her father had once told her a tornado could go right over the house and she wouldn’t notice—as long as it didn’t mess up her papers. That much was true. It wasn’t unusual for her to become so engaged in her work that she would lose hours at a time and not even realize it.

As her fingers flew over the keyboard, she was only vaguely aware that her neck and shoulders were stiff. She was working on the Bruton Ellis case. Spread out on the desk were his background report, arrest record, conviction record, and the police report Detective Bates had faxed earlier. Investigator David Perrine had been thorough, and Kate had everything right down to Ellis’s kindergarten report card. The one that plainly noted that he did not play well with others.

Three years ago, when she’d been an intern at the Dallas County DA’s office, her mentor had told her: “The jury wants to hear a motive. Give them a solid motive, and they will convict.” Kate had never forgotten that priceless advice, and to this day it was her first line of attack.

Ellis’s motive was clear. He’d walked into that convenience store because he needed money to feed his drug habit. When the two clerks had threatened his goal, he’d cold-bloodedly eliminated them. The rape had been a crime of opportunity. The evidence and motive combined were powerful and would most likely win her a conviction.

Still, Kate couldn’t shake a tiny, niggling feeling that something wasn’t right. She wanted to attribute that uneasy feeling to Frank Matrone’s assertion that Bruton Ellis had known about the camera and that the robbery might have been an inside job. Kate wasn’t so sure. And from all appearances, neither was Detective Bates. The only question that remained was whether it was enough for her to proceed and prosecute as planned.

Matrone seemed to be one of those cops who worked as much off gut instinct as he did evidence and facts. Kate, on the other hand, worked strictly off of facts and tangible evidence. She didn’t put much value in hunches. Not when it came to the cases she prosecuted. Justice was far too important to her to risk it on something so capricious. Give her solid, tangible evidence and she could turn it into a conviction.

She recalled the way he’d approached the store clerk that afternoon, and she knew immediately he had once been a good interrogator. Some people had the gift of getting others to talk. Frank Matrone might be a little rough around the edges, but after spending the morning with him she amended her initial assessment that he would not be a benefit to the team. It would be up to her to make sure she used his skills wisely.

Realizing it wasn’t the first time she’d found herself thinking about her new investigator, Kate steered her thoughts back to the case. Absently she rubbed the back of her neck. A look at the clock on the mantel confirmed that she’d been at the computer too long.

She saved the file she’d been working on and closed it. The search engine she’d been using earlier remained on her screen, the curser blinking on the blank line that put so much information at her fingertips. She stared at it for an instant, not allowing her fingers to type what her brain was telling them to. After a long hesitation, she typed in “Frank Matrone” and hit Enter.

The search engine returned sixteen results. She clicked on the first one, and a story that had appeared in the
Dallas Morning News
some four years earlier materialized. It was a small piece about the promotion of four police officers who’d recently passed their detective examinations. A photograph showed all four men standing in front of a police cruiser. Frank Matrone stood at the end of the group, looking like a naughty kid who’d just emptied the cookie jar without getting caught. Even though the picture was only four years old, he seemed much younger. A tad heavier, as if he’d recently lost weight. His smile was deep and genuine, as if someone had said something tasteless and he’d enjoyed the hell out of it.

Kate mentally compared the image with the man she’d spent the afternoon with, and she instinctively knew something had profoundly changed in the four years since that photograph was taken. She was usually good at reading people, but she hadn’t been able to get a handle on Frank. She thought he was probably good at locking people out and wondered what he didn’t want anyone to see.

She felt like a sneaky teenager as she right-clicked on the picture and used her photo imaging software to enlarge it. The images of the four police officers filled her screen. But it was Frank Matrone who drew her eye. The image of him grinning with his arms folded at his chest commanded her full attention—and then some. He was attractive in a rough-around-the-edges sort of way. Dark hair. Dark eyes. An expression that could go from charming to cutting in an instant. She wanted badly to believe she was snooping because it was her business to know the people who worked for her. But Kate was honest enough with herself to admit her curiosity about Frank Matrone went deeper than professional interest.

Kate was not some flighty teen girl. She was a mature woman and knew well the dangers of entertaining inappropriate thoughts about a man who was working for her. But she wanted to know more about Frank Matrone. He was funny and unpredictable with an air of mystery that intrigued her a lot more than she wanted to admit. Mike Shelley had mentioned that Frank had been injured while overseas. She wondered if that was why he’d left the police department. If that was why he walked with a limp.

Realizing that she was ogling a photograph of a man she had no intention of getting involved with, she clicked the mouse and closed the image without saving it. Her screen blinked back to her search results page. The second link was also a story from the
Dallas Morning News.
“Police Detective Earns Purple Heart at Great Personal Sacrifice.”

Kate stared at the link, her finger hovering over the mouse an instant before she clicked. The article appeared replete with photos. Frank lying in a bed, covered with a white sheet from the hips down. His chest was muscular and covered with a thatch of black hair. He was smiling for the camera, his right hand raised in a thumbs-up.