Touch of Madness (22 page)

“A lawyer?” The first detective spit the word out like venom.

“Ms. Reilly is entitled to an attorney if she wants one.” The words were mild, but there was something in Brooks’s eyes I couldn’t read.

“It’ll take hours for anyone to get here from Denver,” he said bitterly.

“Still, she is entitled.”

“Fine. Call your lawyer. Although why you couldn’t have called before—” he didn’t finish the sentence. He was simply too angry.

“I couldn’t have called before. I wasn’t awake ‘til now.” I tried to keep the words mild.

“Right.” He turned on his heel and stormed from the room without another word. Brooks settled back into the chair beside the bed, stretching his legs out in front of him and crossing them at the ankles. “I hope you know what you’re doing, Kate. Asking for a lawyer makes it look like you have something to hide.”

“Brooks, you’re a good cop. Hell, most of the cops I’ve met are great guys with a tough job. But you saw him. He’s already made up his mind I’m guilty. He’s not going to let me walk away from here if he can help it.”

Brooks didn’t even try to argue. “No. He’s not.”

I threw off the covers and swung my legs off of the bed. “Do you have any idea where they put my cell phone?”

“Here.” He reached into the pocket of his trousers and pulled out a slender phone made of silver plastic that was incredibly stylish, but looked delicate enough that if it were mine, I’d be terrified of breaking it. He flipped it open, and passed it over to me. “Use mine.”

My first call was to directory assistance. They patched me through to the attorney’s office. I’d chosen the same man who I’d been referred to about the criminal charges the hospital was pressing. The attorney who’d handled the wrongful death claim didn’t work with criminal cases—and I’d heard the one I was calling was one of the best in the business. Unfortunately he was also busy. I explained to his assistant what had happened, and asked that she have him call me back just as soon as possible.

I was released from the hospital at ten and taken directly to the police station for questioning. It was a small brick building painted white that shone in the sunshine. I got to sit in a nasty little room that looked almost exactly like the ones you see on television, only cleaner and less cheerful. The chair was designed for maximum discomfort, and by the time the attorney arrived I’d lost all track of time and my butt was completely numb. The attorney wasn’t the senior partner I’d called. He was scheduled to be in U.S. District Court all day defending an alleged drug kingpin. Instead, I was being represented by a junior associate, one Gary Hamilton. He was short, with a swimmer’s build. His round, freckled face and sandy hair made him look like he was all of twelve years old. His suit was expensive, and well cut, but he looked more like a kid dressed up for a wedding or Sunday school than an attorney. Still, I didn’t doubt that there was a sharp mind behind those candid green eyes. If there wasn’t, he wouldn’t have been hired to work at one of the top Denver defense firms.

He asked for, and was given, a few minutes to talk to me privately to find out just exactly what was going on. And from the moment he asked me his first question I knew I was going to have no complaints about his representation. He was obviously shrewd and perfectly capable of using his innocent appearance to his advantage.

“All right. It’s a mess, but based on what I learned before I came in here, I think we’ll be all right. Just answer the questions, unless I tell you otherwise. Don’t volunteer additional information. Just answer each question as asked.”

“I understand.” I did. It was the same advice I’d been given prior to giving testimony down in Denver. Gary walked over and opened the door. He leaned out into the hallway and announced, “We’re ready when you are.”

Brooks came in with the detective. Gary sat next to me. Brooks took a seat on the short side of the table. The detective sat to Brooks’s left, directly across from Gary and me.

Gary introduced himself to Brooks and the local detective. I learned that his name was Allcock. I was very good. I didn’t laugh. The poor man had probably spent his entire life being harassed about his name. The men all shook hands. No one held out their hand for me to shake, but I already knew Brooks, and Hamilton was representing me. Besides, I was the defendant. I suppose that meant I wasn’t entitled to the niceties. The questioning was relentless, and tedious. Allcock asked questions. Brooks repeated them. When the lawyer didn’t object, I answered Brooks.

“Why did you come up to the mountains?”

“I received a message from Amanda Shea saying she’d be up there. I needed to speak with her to find out if she knew anything about the disappearance of some Thrall eggs from a hospital in Denver.”

“Did you come up with the express intent of killing Ms. Shea?”

I’d opened my mouth to reply when a touch on my arm shut it. “Don’t answer that, Kate,” Gary said. On and on it went. Question after question. I started squirming in my seat. I had to go to the bathroom. My stomach was growling, and I was beginning to worry about Tom and the others.

Eventually even the attorney grew weary of it, and he was getting paid by the hour. “Detective Allcock, my client has been extremely cooperative. You have questioned her extensively, and I believe her responses have been borne out by the other witness statements. If you’re not going to charge her, it’s time to let her go.”

The detective obviously didn’t want to. But he couldn’t legally stop my leaving unless he charged me with something, or made me a “material witness.” I could see the temptation to do just that pass over his face. But when he caught a glimpse of the attorney he backed down. He surrendered to the inevitable with ill grace, letting me go with a strong admonishment not to leave the state without letting him know. Then he stormed out, slamming the door hard enough to make the one-way mirrors rattle.

“Charming.” I muttered the word under my breath. The attorney smiled. Brooks didn’t. “Is there a restroom anywhere around here?”

“Through that door and on the left,” Brooks advised.

I left them talking earnestly as we exited the interrogation room. I didn’t care what they had to say right now. I needed a bathroom, and sooner rather than later.

I found the restroom and gladly made use of it. When I was done I stood at the sink and washed my hands and face. Amazingly, my purse hadn’t gotten lost in all the confusion. It had made it from the Jeep to the hospital, and with me from the hospital to the police station. I was glad. Replacing everything would be a problem, and getting new identification is a damned nuisance. I unbraided my hair and then rummaged in my purse for my hairbrush. By the time I was finished with my toilette I was starting to feel like a human being again. When I stepped into the hall, neither Brooks nor attorney Hamilton was anywhere in sight. I followed the sound of voices and let myself out through the door at the end of the hallway. I stepped into a tiny lobby area. There were four molded plastic chairs in a shade of dark brown that exactly matched the vending machines. Tom sat in one of them. He wasn’t alone. His Acca, Mary Connolly, was with him. She wore a very businesslike black suit with a red blouse, and low-heeled pumps that clicked on the tile as she paced back and forth across the gleaming linoleum. She’d probably come straight from work, where she was a parole officer for violent teenaged offenders. Nobody was talking, and the tension was thick enough to slice.

“Where are Dusty and Rob?”

“They’re still questioning them.” Tom spoke softly.

“Do they have an attorney?”

“Yes.” Mary answered, her voice tight with fury. Her golden brown eyes had narrowed to slits. Her compact body practically vibrated with controlled anger. “Reilly, when this is over, and we can all go back to Denver, you and I are going to have a little chat about your dragging my people into danger.”

“She didn’t drag us,” Tom protested.

Mary whirled to face him, and he pulled back from her in fear. “Shut up, Tom. Don’t you even speak to me right now.”

I glanced over at the far wall. There was a window of bulletproof glass with a uniformed officer sitting at a desk. At the moment she appeared to be working the radio, but there was a bank of black and white televisions next to her, and I saw the lobby pictured on one of them.

I kept my voice low, making sure my back was to both the window and the camera. “I’m sorry. I was wrong. I shouldn’t have brought them along.”

I watched her close her eyes and count to at least one hundred. “You admit that.”

“They could’ve been killed. Hell, Rob almost was.”

“Katie—” Tom started to speak, but a look from Mary silenced him.

“I knew Amanda was laying a trap for me. I suspected she’d stolen the eggs. I didn’t know she’d made her own nest and was going to try to use the hosts to kill me. I figured she’d want to do that all by herself.”

Mary opened her eyes. She gave me a long, searching look, but her body language had relaxed fractionally. I watched her force herself to relax. “God, Reilly, only you can get into such unmitigated disasters. What is it with you, anyway?”

“I don’t know.” It was God’s honest truth.

Mary stared at me long and hard. “This isn’t over between us. I appreciate the apology, but it’s not enough. You put our surrogate in danger along with two of our pack members.” She swept her hands outward in a gesture of frustration. “And Rob’s got a record. If they press assault charges it could really go badly for him.”

We heard the latch of the door I’d come through a few minutes ago and turned as one. Brooks stepped through.

“Kate, you ready to go?”

“What about the Jeep?”

“Impounded for evidence. I’ll give you a ride, but we need to leave through the back door. Our escort is waiting outside.”

I shot Mary a mute appeal for guidance. I didn’t want to abandon Dusty and Rob, but I wasn’t sure whether my being here would be a help or hindrance.

“Go home, Kate.”

Tom started to rise, but Mary put a restraining hand on his arm, squeezing hard enough that her knuckles whitened. He’d have bruises.

“You stay here. We’re going to have a little chat.”

Tom swallowed hard, but his jaw thrust stubbornly forward. “Yes, ma’am. Kate, I’ll see you in the morning.”

Mary gave a low growl. “Reilly, go. Your being here isn’t helping anything, and you need to get out of here before the locals get together a lynch mob.”

“Do you think they will?” Tom asked.

“Why do you think she’s getting a police escort?” She snorted in derision. “It isn’t ‘cause they like her.”

17

« ^ »

I walked out the back door of the police station between Brooks and a uniformed officer who was walking like he had a stick up his butt. I could almost hear his teeth grinding over the crunch of the crusted snow beneath our feet. He was probably about my age, more or less. He looked even younger than Gary Hamilton. It almost made me feel sorry for him. Or it would have, if he hadn’t kept his hand hovering near his gun. He was pissed and trying to look intimidating. It wasn’t working. I had no doubt he was willing to shoot, but he wouldn’t look scary doing it. At the edge of the sidewalk there were three vehicles with their engines running. The first and last were police cruisers, their lights flashing blue and red in the fading daylight. I’d spent the entire day at the station. It was no wonder I was hungry and tired.

Brooks led me to the middle vehicle, an older model Ford Bronco. Like him, it was big, burly, and well maintained. The navy blue paint gleamed with a fresh coat of wax, and the chrome step-plate reflected the flashing lights. I climbed into the passenger seat. When Brooks took the wheel, our little caravan was off. As we passed through the front lot I saw people gathered in small groups talking to each other. There were news vans, of course, and several of the locals were gesturing angrily as they talked to the camera under the glaring lights. We were moving too slow. I wanted the hell out of here before something bad happened, but the driver in front of us was crawling along. One of the news crews spotted us and pointed. People began shouting and running toward the car. Brooks swore like a sailor and cranked the wheel hard to the right. I saw someone bend down. A moment later one of the landscaping rocks crashed into the passenger window. It was safety glass, so it didn’t exactly shatter, but the impact crushed the glass in the spot by where my head had been and sent cracks across the rest of the window as Brooks threw the Bronco in gear and stomped on the gas.

The vehicle leaped forward and right, hard enough to slam my head against the headrest as Brooks ignored the driveway and exited by jumping the curb and going over the grass. I thanked God for me seatbelt and grabbed the panic handle as the shoulder harness jerked across my throat, nearly choking me. As the tires hit the road Brooks shifted again and we left the scene with a squeal of tires, both cop cars trailing behind.

“Idiots! Fucking idiots! Were they trying to get us killed?” Brooks slammed a meaty palm against the dashboard, his face livid.

I didn’t say a word because anything that came out of my mouth would just make things worse. He was already pissed enough without that. But I couldn’t help wondering if maybe, just maybe, the driver in front hadn’t been thinking exactly that. At the moment there were just too many people who wanted me dead. I leaned my head against the seat back and closed my eyes. I was exhausted. But more than that, I was weary. Life had been one crisis after another for months now. I’d been running on adrenaline and determination. Unfortunately, you can only go on that way for so long. Both my mind and body had reached the end of their endurance. I needed rest. If someone attacked right now, I wasn’t positive I would be able to lift a hand to defend myself. I felt Brooks’s gaze, but didn’t even have enough energy to open my eyes. After a long moment he spoke.

“It’s a long drive, Reilly. Get some rest. We’ll talk later.”

“Reilly.” A meaty hand landed on my shoulder and gave me a shake. “Wake up. I need the pass code.”

I blinked in confusion. We were at the gate to the garage at my place. Apparently I’d slept through the whole trip. Wow.