THE BRIDGE (16 page)

She tapped some ice from the cup into her mouth. “I wonder what he thought when he tracked my GPS right into the bay.”

“I hope he realized two can play stupid mind games.” He rolled up the napkin and stuffed it in his pocket. “He loves those mind games.”

“And fingers.”

“Is Ty going to be okay?”

“He’ll get over it. Like you said, I think he’s beginning to realize he’s lucky to be alive.”

“And he’s beginning to realize it’s over between the two of you? Is it over?”

“Of course. Did you think I’d feel so much sympathy for his finger I’d go back to him?”

“I think he was hoping you would.”

“I set him straight.”

Sean pushed back from the table. “Unless you want to eat hospital cafeteria food, let’s get going.”

“I’m in the parking structure below.”

“Not a great idea, Elise.”

“We got rid of the GPS. He’s not tracking my movements anymore.”

“We don’t know what he’s up to.” He patted his pocket with the napkin. “He’s obviously on the hunt for a new victim.”

“Does the task force have any idea how he finds his victims?” She dropped her cup in the trash. “Any idea how he found me?”

“We...they’re looking into everything, Elise.” He glanced up and pointed. “That guy can tell you more than I can now.”

Detective Curtis was barreling into the cafeteria and didn’t notice them until Sean raised his hand.

Curtis’s eyebrows jumped. “You didn’t drop in on the vic, did you?”

Sean placed his hand on her arm. “She did. Don’t worry—I stayed well away.”

“Was Ty able to tell you anything, Detective Curtis?”

“You can call me John.” He skimmed the top of his short hair with the palm of his hand. “He couldn’t tell us much. Guy came at him out of nowhere.”

“Are you heading up the task force now?” Elise shifted from one foot to the other, brushing Sean’s arm. He seemed to be taking his removal from the task force well, but his body still seemed tight and tense.

Curtis shot an apologetic look at Sean. “Yeah, the captain has me running the show. Hey, did you see Jacoby wandering around? I thought he was coming down to get prints on the vic. Sorry, Ty.”

“I didn’t. Why, did you find a finger?”

“Not yet. I hope it doesn’t wind up in the mail to you.”

“What is this guy’s obsession with fingers, anyway?” Elise shoved her hands in her pockets.

Sean snorted. “Who knows? Maybe he got sick of people pointing fingers at him and decided to lop them off.”

“It’s sick and weird.”

“And right now, it’s Curtis’s problem.” Sean grabbed her hand. “Let’s get the rest of your stuff and move it to my place.”

Curtis coughed. “Elise is staying with you now?”

“I told you, her friend’s place was compromised. Her friend’s in a hotel, and I think Elise would be safer with me.”

“You know there’s going to be hell to pay when the captain figures out you tossed that GPS device into the bay?”

“Had to do it. Do you think we would’ve gotten anything from it? The Alphabet Killer is too careful with his fingerprints, and if he’s that careful with his prints he probably knows to file off the serial number on any device he uses.”

“You’re right, Brody. That’s why you should be heading up this case.”

Sean smacked him on the back. “You’ll do fine, Curtis, but in the meantime Elise is coming home with me, and you can tell the captain that, too.”

“The captain doesn’t have to know everything.” He winked and then rubbed his hands on his way to the hot-food counter.

Elise turned to Sean in the elevator and said, “I can’t figure out if John is happy he’s got the task force or upset.”

“Probably a little of both. It’s always good for your career to lead a task force, but he’s worked in my shadow for a long time.”

“Do you think he resents that?”

“John?” Sean stabbed at the elevator button for the parking garage a few more times. “He’s too good-natured for that.”

“Still, I get the impression that you’re the superstar detective in the homicide department.”

“I’ve solved a few big cases, but it’s all a team effort. I couldn’t do my job without all the support people.”

“With all the little people?”

The elevator doors trundled open on the second floor of the parking garage, and Sean wedged his shoulder against one side of the opening to hold the door open for her.

“Is that how it sounded to you?”

“Not at all. You sounded very modest, but I just wonder if everyone sees it that way.”

“Curtis knows the score. He’s good at some things and I’m good at other things.”

She clicked her remote. “Where are you parked?”

“Out front. Give me a ride to my car and I’ll follow you back to your place.”

“My place. I don’t even know where that is anymore.”

* * *

W
HEN
THEY
’
D
COLLECTED
her things and returned to Sean’s place, he stepped over the brownish spot on his carpet where Ty had collapsed. “I don’t think that stain will ever come out. I’ll have to get the carpet replaced or forever be reminded of Ty accusing me of hiring someone to attack him before passing out on my floor.”

“Ty was crazy with shock and confusion. Obviously the guy planted that in his head.”

“You know that accusation made my blood boil even though I knew there was no chance that you or anyone else would believe it. I’d fight to the bitter end to clear my name if someone unjustly accused me of a crime.” He shoved his hands in his pockets. “I just can’t understand why my father didn’t do the same.”

“You just can’t know what was going through his head, Sean.”

Elise dropped one of her bags in the corner next to the only plant in the room, making its leaves wave.

Sean snapped out of his reverie. “Hey, watch it. That plant’s barely alive as it is.”

She flicked her fingers at it as if to dismiss it. “Looks like it’s doing as well as the plants in my classroom. Just one more day of school.”

“And then you’re going to take that trip down the coast?”

“Maybe.” She tossed her hair over her shoulder. “Do you think he’ll stop sending you messages when he knows you’re off his case?”

“You haven’t been watching Ray Lopez. I think everyone in the city knows I’m off the case. He’s not going to care about that.”

“I guess not, since he left you a message with the bodies last night.”

“Exactly.”

“Fifty-one plus fifty. Fifty-one fifty.”

“Uh-huh.”

“Forty-two plus fifty-eight. That can’t be a date. He’s not going to commit a murder on April second and tell us about it today.”

“Tell
us?
”

“You know what I mean.” She reached for her purse. “That’s my phone. It’s Courtney.” She picked up the call. “Hey, did you get checked in?”

“It’s like a minivacation. You can join me if you like.”

“I’m good where I am.” Her gaze wandered to Sean, checking the messages on his phone.

“I’ll bet you are.”

“Thanks so much for letting me stay with you. I’m sorry I led a killer to your doorstep.”

“How were you supposed to know the creep had bugged your car? Are you going to stay there with Detective Tall, Dark and Handsome until this guy is caught, or what?”

“I’m thinking of taking my vacation a little early.”

Without looking up from his phone, Sean flashed her a thumbs-up.

Courtney concurred. “I think that’s a great idea. Oscar should be home next week and I think that he’ll be around all summer, not that he would be much help in an emergency, but at least you won’t be coming home to an empty house.”

“Maybe it’ll be safe by then.”

“Oops. Hold on a minute. The restaurant where I just ordered my dinner is calling me. They forgot to take my address.” The phone beeped on the other end and then Courtney came back on the line. “Four twenty-five, eighth floor.”

“What?”

“Oh, sorry. Wrong line.”

“You sound busy.”

Courtney huffed out a breath. “It’s that needy new client. I’m seeing him after hours again.”

“Well, you go figure out his craziness. I’ll talk to you later.”

She ended the call and pointed her phone at Sean. “Anything new?”

“I called for the autopsy report on Dr. Patrick.”

“And?”

“Preliminary report suggests heart attack.”

“Then maybe that’s all it was—a heart attack and bad timing.”

“A heart attack and an incredible coincidence.” He stretched and perched on the edge of a bar stool. “Is Courtney working late tonight?”

“Yes, her demanding new client.”

“That’s a whole lotta crazy I couldn’t handle.”

“And that’s from someone who gets a package with a finger in it.”

“Come here.” He crooked his finger at her.

She eased out of the chair and sauntered toward him, his dark eyes drawing her like a magnet.

He drew her between his open legs and pinned her. “I’m glad you’re here. I’m glad you’re safe.”

“I don’t know what I would’ve done without you, Sean.” She rested her hands on his thighs and leaned in to kiss his lips.

His legs tightened around her thighs. “Let’s go out and get something to eat. It’s getting late, and we both have to work tomorrow.”

Nodding, she slipped away from his clinch, missing her opportunity to ask him about their future. She didn’t want to push him into anything. Right now they needed each other, but when that need ended, what did they have?

“You okay?” He chucked her under the chin.

“Greek.”

“What?”

“I want to try that Greek restaurant, if that’s okay with you and if it’s still open this late.”

“Greek it is. I think they stay open until eleven for dinner.”

An hour later they were sitting at a corner table in a noisy establishment in North Beach.

“I can’t believe it’s so crowded at this time of night—and on a Wednesday.” Elise leaned across the table. “Are they going to start breaking plates?”

“Do you want them to?”

She scooped more tapenade onto her plate. “That’s okay.”

Sean checked his phone for about the third time since they sat down to dinner.

“Are you expecting a call or a message? Something about Dr. Patrick?”

“I sent my brother—the FBI agent—a text about Dr. Patrick.”

“So, let me get this straight. You’re a homicide detective, you have one brother who’s a P.I. and another who’s FBI?”

“That’s right.”

“What’s the fourth one?”

“Actually Ryan is the third one, and he’s the police chief of Crestview.”

“I guess the Brody blood really does run blue. Is there something the FBI agent can do in his position to get more information?”

“Not sure, but I’m asking.”

She felt in her purse for her own phone. “Courtney was going to check in with me when she finished with her client.”

She checked the display, but Courtney hadn’t called or texted.

“Did she call? She’s more than welcome to join us for dinner. We haven’t gotten to the main course yet, and her office is close by, isn’t it?”

“I’ll invite her if she ever finishes up with this client. She hasn’t called yet.”

“She sure goes all out for her patients, doesn’t she?”

“She comes across as a party girl, but she’s really very serious about her work and very caring. And since she’s a therapist, she calls them clients instead of patients.”

“She can’t prescribe medication, but I’m sure she has some clients that need it, right?”

“She refers them to a doctor she works with. She’s had a few certifiably crazy clients, and she ended up transferring them to a psychiatrist she knows.”

“Must be hard to deal with the really crazy ones.”

“I don’t think
crazy
is the term the professionals use.” She bit into her cracker and dabbed her mouth with a napkin.

“Well, that’s the term cops use.” Sean drew his brows over his nose. “You did say Courtney’s office was nearby, right?”

“Yeah, the address is forty-two something or four, two, something on Market.”

Sean balanced his fork on the edge of his plate. “What floor is she on?”

His voice was so low it barely cut through the din, but the urgency behind the words had her looking up from her plate sharply.

“Floor? I don’t remember.” She gave up trying to stab the olive with her fork and pinched it between her fingers instead. “Why are you asking? Are you suggesting we bring the food to her?”

“No, I...”

She snapped her fingers. “Wait. She was getting food delivered to her office, and she thought I was the delivery guy and she rattled off her address and floor number. It was four, two something and the eighth floor, but I don’t think she needs...” She trailed off, her gut twisting at Sean’s tight face. “What is it?”

“The message, Elise. The message from the Alphabet Killer. Fifty-one plus fifty equal 187. Forty-two plus fifty-eight equal 187.”

She blinked and gulped some water to wash down the sour taste of fear. “I don’t get it.”

“We already guessed that the fifty-one, fifty might mean crazy, as in the type of clients Courtney might see. If her address is four, two, five on the eighth floor—forty-two plus fifty-eight—we have a problem.”

She’d already shoved back from the table. “You mean Courtney has a problem. She’s in danger.”

Sean pulled out his wallet and dropped several twenties on the table. “I’m going to call this in, but let’s head over there now.”

Elise kept stabbing at the redial button on the way out of the restaurant, but the call rolled over to Courtney’s voice mail every time. When they hit the sidewalk, Elise took a deep breath after Courtney’s recorded greeting. “Courtney, it’s Elise. I don’t want to freak you out or anything, but once you’re done with your client, don’t see anyone else and just wait in your office with the door locked. Sean and I are heading over there right now. It’s about ten-thirty. Call me as soon as you get this if we don’t see you first.”

By the time they reached Sean’s car, Elise’s breath was coming out in short spurts.

Sean buckled his seat belt and chucked his phone against the dashboard. “They won’t come. The lieutenant on duty thinks it’s a wild-goose chase and is refusing to send a patrol car.”