Ghost Walking (A Maggie York Paranormal Mystery Book 1) (27 page)

Brandt swore softly. “If the thief recovers the name of this informant, he’d be a marked man. We need to find him first.”

“As I said, we’re open to suggestions.”

He disconnected, tapped on a familiar number, and waited for Maggie to answer. He’d left her still in bed that morning, looking warm and sleepy…and tempting. She hadn’t slept well, and the dark circles under her eyes had nearly undone him. He’d limited his rush of protectiveness to suggesting she stay home today, but she’d been noncommittal. He had no illusion she’d take his advice unless it fit her own plans. Playing it safe just wasn’t in her DNA.

“Hey, I was just going to call you,” she said, sounding a good deal more awake now. “How’s the PD this morning? Anything new?”

“Buzzing. They’ve heard about the lab problem, and IA was here to return my Beretta.”

“No hassle?”

“None. In fact, his only comment was ‘too bad it wasn’t the sniper.’“

“Is that confirmed?” Her voice held an underlying disappointment.

“Pretty much. They’re still turning over every rock, but I doubt they’ll make the connection. Sloane stopped by.” He told her about the file entry.

“Isn’t much to go on. What about re-interviewing the witnesses? Maybe they’d know who else he talked to.” She sounded distracted, as if her mind was only half on their conversation.

“It’s already been done. As I said, every rock. They’re going off in all directions, hoping to sweep up something.” He frowned at the phone. Was she shuffling papers? “Am I boring you? What are you doing?”

“Oh, sorry. I’m going through files. That’s why I was going to call you.”

“What files? Where are you?”

“My apartment.”

“Maggie—”

“Just listen. I got to thinking about the cases with missing evidence, including Otley. You’d concluded the bullet/casing never made it to the lab, but we hadn’t compared all the Otley techs there with those at other compromised crime scenes. I’ve done that now.”

Brandt stifled a sigh. He might have known she’d go straight to the most obvious place for anyone to locate her. “And what did you find?”

“Not one tech was present at every scene. We’re looking at the wrong people. It can’t be a tech. Unless several are involved.”

He stiffened and lowered his voice. “Not likely. Have you checked others on the scene? Patrol officers, detectives?”

“I’m checking that now. No strong correlation so far. Lots of overlaps. Coridan and I were at a couple scenes, so were three or four other teams. A few patrol cars took the initial call or handled traffic more than once but not regularly. A lot of people were involved.”

“The files won’t show everything. Officers stop by all the time offering help, and nobody records it.”

“Sure, but would the same person go unnoticed that many times? How could he or she be sure they’d get ahold of the critical evidence?”

Brandt raked a hand through his hair and dropped his voice another notch. “I don’t know, Maggie. But I’ll be there in a few minutes to help with those files. This is beginning to stink like a dirty cop.”

CHAPTER TWENTY

Maggie leaned on the kitchen counter and studied the lists of personnel logged into the crime scenes of the cases spread around her. If Castile had recruited someone at the PD… My, God. There were over a hundred officers at District 13 alone. And many of the street patrols overlapped with other districts, even detectives upon occasion.

Who had the time and means to investigate all these people? Who could be trusted? Could the tampering have succeeded this long without some higher-up looking the other way? She shifted her body and rested on the other foot, hearing Selena’s voice saying
someone you trust
. That’s just it. Did she trust anyone anymore? Could she even trust Captain Jenson? Or anyone on the squad?

Even Josh?

She whipped her head toward the rattle of a key in the lock. The door opened, and Josh walked in. He glanced at her, and his brows shot up. “Did I startle you?”

“Yes. No.” Maggie sighed and straightened. “I’m just on edge. I don’t know what to think about any of this.”

“Yeah, I was ready to leave the office because I couldn’t stand the thought Castile’s man might be watching me.” He crossed the room, his eyes unreadable, his frown deepening. “Maggie? Something wrong?”

“I just needed to see you.” If she couldn’t trust Josh, there was no one. She came around the counter and walked into his arms.

“Yeah, me too.” He held her close for a moment. “Why don’t we take all this back to my place and open a bottle of wine? I don’t like you being here. An intruder found his way in once, and we still don’t know how.”

“OK. At least you haven’t had any break-ins.”

“Not yet.” He looked down and gave her a grim smile. “If I do, I may have to hide you with Mom and Harry.”

Maggie suddenly pulled away. “Oh my god, Josh. Are they safe? We’ve been thinking lab personnel, but another cop could walk right in without being questioned.”

Brandt’s face paled. “Don’t even say that.” But he reached for his phone. “Harry, it’s Josh. Everything OK?” He listened a minute, and nodded at Maggie. “No, no problem. At least I hope not. Be extra careful. Don’t trust anyone, even a cop, especially if you haven’t seen him before.” He frowned at something Harry said. “Don’t bother Mom. Just keep the gun I gave you handy. We’ll see you shortly.”

He disconnected, shaking his head. “I may have done more harm than good with that call.”

“You gave him a gun?”

“Yeah, it seemed like a good idea at the time. I have to go and settle Harry down.”

She started gathering her files. “Not without me.”

By the time they reached the hospital, they’d talked and gained a little perspective. Nothing so far indicated the killer was so desperate he’d reveal himself by walking into the hospital. But Harry was very much on edge. After enduring his fidgeting and frantic eye rolls while they spoke with Carolyn, Maggie suggested coffee in the hospital cafeteria.

In his green scrubs, Harry looked like any other hospital employee taking an afternoon break, except for the lines of anxiety on his forehead. “Weren’t you telling me the shooter could be a cop?”

“It’s a possibility,” Josh admitted. “We’re trying to cover the bases, Harry. A cop would have to be pretty brazen or dumb to shoot someone in the middle of a hospital. The odds of being seen are too high.”

“So I should hope for a smart, timid hit man who plays the odds?”

“Harry.”

“Yeah, you’re right. I’m just being snarky. This sucks, Josh.”

“Which part?” Josh asked with a faint smile. “The scrubs, the meals, or the hospital’s limited cable channels?”

“The boredom,” Harry answered promptly. “But I guess that’s over. Instead I can be terrified every time the door opens.”

“Just don’t shoot your mother’s doctor.” Maggie gave him a half-serious look. “I know Josh gave you a gun. I suspect the hospital staff is in more danger than you are.”

After delivering Harry back to the private suite, they spoke to the officer on the door. “My mother is not doing well,” Josh said. “I don’t want her disturbed by anyone not currently on her visiting list. I don’t care who it is, even another cop. If he’s not on the list, he doesn’t get in. If you have any doubts, call me.”

* * *

Maggie rubbed her tired eyes. 6:00 a.m. Except for a two-hour crash, she and Josh had been up all night, going over the files again, checking and double-checking her lists. Other names surfaced they hadn’t considered before. The Medical Examiner, Art Merriweather, had been present at every scene, including Maggie’s shooting. Someone had jumped the gun that night and notified his office when she first coded, and no one had thought to call him back. By the time he arrived, she’d been rushed to the hospital, but his brief appearance meant his name was on the list. The rescue squad had also been at every location, although it wasn’t clear from these reports which EMTs had been working. They’d marked that for further inquiry.

She reached for the phone and called Annie. They needed help, and Annie excelled at digging into computer files others couldn’t get near. Sometimes Annie’s black hat skills were a topic of contention between them, but these were desperate circumstances…and there wasn’t time to be technically correct. Questioning Arthur Merriweather without more evidence than they had would only create a big headache for the NOPD. He’d file a complaint, and Maggie and Brandt would be called on the carpet to explain themselves. An awkward session at best while everyone at the PD remained a suspect.

“But he’s the medical examiner,” Annie protested. “Don’t they make good money? Why would he work for Castile?”

“Why’s anyone work for Castile?” Maggie heard the sharpness in her voice and backed off. “I don’t know the doc’s financial status. Maybe he’s got huge gambling debts. I don’t know anything about his personal life. That’s why I need you. Right now you’re one of the few people I don’t suspect of being on his payroll.” She deliberately lightened her tone. “You’re not, are you?”

“Very funny. OK, I’ll get on it as soon as I’ve had my coffee. Anything else, since I’m up now?”

“Captain Jenson.”

Silence. “NOPD Captain Jenson? Your one and only boss?”

“That’s the guy.”

“Geez, Maggie. You’re serious about suspecting everyone.”

“Deadly. Oh, and Annie, if you have an extra moment, you might give Harry a call. He’s pretty freaked out over our latest suspicions.”

“Well now…” Annie’s voice took a flirty turn. “That task will be pure pleasure. I miss seeing him.” She sighed. “But I understand why it’s a bad idea. I’ll call you as soon as I’m finished poking around everybody’s emails, social media, and financials. If they own any off shore bank accounts, a fleet of Ferraris, or million dollar homes in Malibu, I’ll be sure to mention it. Stay safe. I don’t have time to find a new best friend.”

While Maggie waited to hear from Annie, she showered, dressed, and put on a new pot of coffee. Since his fridge held little except beer and condiments, Josh ran out for breakfast, returning with egg and bacon muffins, a loaf of bread, a jar of peanut butter, and a bag of beignets.

“Why the peanut butter?” she asked, frowning at the jar when they were almost finished eating.

“Emergency rations. Protein’s good for you. Better than this sweet stuff.” He reached over and wiped powdered sugar from her chin. “I have to check in at the PD and see if I can learn more about Wernier’s informant. I don’t know why, but that phone number’s ringing a vague bell.” He shrugged. “I can’t place it. While I’m gone, keep the doors locked. Why don’t you go back to bed for a while?”

“Don’t I wish. It’s tempting, but I want to gather info on the EMT crews. And then I’ll start on the roster at the station. There are one hundred nine cops on current active duty out of District 13 and a dozen civilians. Hopefully I can cross off some…like you.” She flashed him a quick smile. “But even with Annie’s help, that’s a lot of checking, and we might have only days or hours to identify a suspect. Five related deaths in a month, three in the last week. Castile is escalating rapidly.”

“You’re driving yourself too hard.” He stood and leaned down to kiss the tip of her nose. “I won’t be gone long.”

She watched him clip his badge to his belt and slip the Beretta into its holster. Maggie smiled as he strode out the door. A complex man. A kiss on the nose, a gun on his hip.

By nine she knew the EMTs were clear. Five different crews had responded to various crime scenes; none of them to more than three of the suspect locations. She moved their list to the unlikely pile and began working on District 13.

Her first pass through she crossed off five names: four officers hired within the last three or four months and Josh’s partner Eddie, who’d been out of state during several recent incidents. Not a good start. That left one hundred four. Oops. One hundred two. She’d forgotten to cross off her own name, still on the reserve list, and Brandt’s. She did so now. Ironic that three weeks ago he was high on her suspect list. Now, she’d rather believe herself guilty.

OK, Maggie. Stay on task. She got up and poured another cup of coffee, then called Annie. “Any luck?”

“Some. I think your captain’s OK. No extra deposits to his accounts or big expenditures. Not an extravagant lifestyle, but comfortable. I don’t see any red flags.”

“What about Merriweather?”

“I’ve just started on him, but I have turned up a few unexplained bank deposits. And he’s carrying a lot of debt. Give me another hour to see if I can explain some of it.”

Maggie pictured the Medical Examiner’s typically somber face. Not a warm, fuzzy personality. Always serious, usually in a hurry. He didn’t seem the criminal type, but, truthfully, what type was that?

“How much more are you up for?” she asked. “I have over a hundred cops to check out.”

Annie let out an audible sigh. “Hey, girlfriend, you’re becoming a slave driver. I can give you a few more hours, but I’m meeting Charlie later to break it off. I don’t want to string him along, not the way I keep thinking about Harry all the time.”

“Are you sure? You haven’t known Harry long.”

Annie laughed. “And your point would be?”

“Yeah, OK. I guess there is something about the Brandt brothers.”

Maggie hung up and placed a checkmark next to Jenson’s name, labeling it unlikely. She hesitated—and finally crossed it off entirely. No money trail, and no access to the missing evidence. If the captain had shown up at a crime scene, the officers’ reports would reflect that. Her gut feelings cleared him too. Still, she was glad Annie had checked. That left one hundred one.

She began reviewing online public information sites about the remaining officers, mostly gathering family information—marriage announcements, children’s sports or music accomplishments, relatives’ obituaries. She’d moved onto property information when Josh called to say he was following up on a lead regarding the informant.

Maggie’s throat tightened. That’s what Wernier had been doing when a sniper picked him off. “Why don’t I come with you?”