Carved in Darkness (27 page)

She was almost to the door before he hit her with what she knew was coming. “You’re vacation’s just became a suspension without pay pending the outcome of our investigation. Strickland will be reassigned. Any further involvement with the Sawyer case, or you, will result in his immediate termination. You’re gone, Vaughn—the suspension is just a formality, but if the two of you so much as breathe on each other, I’ll charge him with accessory after the fact.” He sounded happy, like it was his birthday, Christmas, and the Fourth of July, all rolled into one. “And don’t even think about running. If you so much as walk past a bus stop, I’ll have you picked up for absconding.”

Suddenly, her plans to go back to Jessup looked a hell of a lot harder to pull off, but Mathews wasn’t finished.

“I want your badge. Now.”

She took a deep, steady breath. She looked at Richards, still leaning against the wall next to the door. She unclipped her badge from her waistband and placed it in his hand.

“I didn’t kill him,” she said quietly, looking him straight in the eye. Richards shifted his jaw like he wanted to say something but, in the end, remained silent.

FORTY
-
SEVEN

S
HE FELT NAKED.
S
TRIPPED
without her gun and badge. Her SIG P220s were still sitting in a weapons locker in the therapist’s office. She needed to get them.

She crossed the Homicide bullpen as fast as she could, aware that everyone in the room was watching her leave. They all knew what she was being accused of, and she could tell by the look on their faces that more than a few of them believed she was guilty.

“Vaughn.” She looked up to see Strickland sitting at his desk, waiting for her. She ignored him, kept walking toward the elevator. He got up to follow her. “
Vaughn
.” He was getting louder.

“Damn it, Vaughn—
stop
.” He was shouting at her now, obviously unconcerned with the audience. She pushed the Down button for the elevator and waited. He stood three feet away, staring at her. She wanted to cry. She wanted to scream. She did neither.

The elevator slid open, and she walked in, pushed the button for the lower level. The doors began to slide shut. Strickland dove in after her.

“Leave me alone.” She shook her head, refused to look at him.

He ducked down into her line of sight. “Well, we both know
that’s
not gonna happen.”

She sighed, looked him in the eye. “Talk fast. Once those doors open, I’m not saying another word to you.” Jamming her hands into the pocket of her coat, she found the locker key she’d tossed in there yesterday. Gripped it like a lifeline.

“Okay.” He reached past her and hit the Emergency Stop button. The elevator slowed, then stopped with a slight jerk. “What’s going on?”

He already knew. She could see it on his face. “They think I killed Sanford.” She looked away. “And Kaitlyn Sawyer—Mathews is trying to pin that one on me too.”

He was quiet for a few seconds. “Maybe you should tell him about the box—that the real killer was here, that he left it for you.” He was trying to help, find a way to clear her.

She shook her head. “No. He knows O’Shea is involved, he’d just spin it into me trying to cover my tracks.”

“Okay.” He frowned, chewed on his bottom lip for a few seconds while he tried to figure a way out. Finally he just shrugged. “I guess we’re just gonna have to find this asshole and bring him in on our own.”

“We?” She shook her head, hitting the button to restart the elevator. “No. No way. Mathews made it clear—you and I are done. If he finds out we’ve had any contact whatsoever, he’ll bring accessory charges against you.”

“I don’t care.” He hit the Stop button again.

She looked at him. “I do. I care. I can’t let you do that for me.”

He shook his head. “It’s not up to you.”

She let out a slow breath, felt tears prickle behind her eyes. He was wrong. It
was
up to her. “I’m … sorry for all the shit that came with being my partner.” She started the elevator again, stood in front of the button panel so he couldn’t reach it.

“You’re
still
my partner,” he said. She could tell by the stubborn set of his jaw that he wouldn’t let it go. He was that dog with a bone again. He’d snarl and snap at anyone who tried to deter him. Including Mathews. He’d lose everything because of her—toss it all away without thinking twice. She wasn’t the only one with an over-active sense of loyalty.

The elevator doors slid open. On impulse, she leaned over and kissed his cheek. “You’re the best partner I’ve ever had,” she said. It felt like goodbye.

“Bet you say that to all the guys.”

“Such a pain in my ass … ”

She stepped out of the elevator, and the door slid closed between them.

FORTY
-
EIGHT

S
HE WAS QUICK ABOUT
getting her guns. On her way out, she dialed Michael’s number.

“Hey, look, I’m—”

“I know. I saw them take you in. Meet me in the parking lot, you can explain then,” he said.

She hurried across the lobby, almost made it out before someone shouted her name.

“Inspector Vaughn, wait up.”

She turned to see the uniform from the day before, watched him weave his way through the lobby.

“Hey, glad I caught you. You got a message about a half an hour ago. Not sure why it landed down here, but … ” He held out a yellow square of paper, and she took it. Read it. He looked at her. “Is everything okay? It sounded pretty urgent—”

She turned and ran for the door, the yellow square of paper gripped tight in her fist.

Michael watched her cross the parking lot at a run. Something was wrong.

Very wrong.

She threw open the driver’s side door. “I’m driving,” she said before she all but shoved him out of the driver’s seat. She floored it, flying out of the station lot like the place was rigged to blow. He’d been about to ask her what the hell was going on. Instead, he read the slip of paper she’d handed him.

She took a hard right, weaved left to avoid an illegally parked delivery truck. “He killed Sanford. Cut him up and left him in his truck in an alley. They think we’re involved and that I somehow got you to kill him. They think the girl in the park was a dry run to see if I could get you out of police custody if things went south.” She hung a left on a yellow, gunning it through the turn. “I’m officially suspended and if I have any contact with Strickland, Mathews will hang an accessory charge around his neck. It won’t stick but it’ll be enough to ruin his career,” she said.

Michael read the message again.

Insp. S. Vaughn @ 32nd. Girl found in SF Gen prk lot. Name is Riley—critical condition.

He’d felt pressed for time. Like they needed to make a move, force something to happen. He made a mistake, told her that her family would be fine—that leaving them unprotected was a risk they had to take. Sabrina was going to lose her sister like he’d lost his. Six weeks ago he would have called that justice.

He looked at her. “I’m sorry.” The words felt small. He felt small saying them.

She wouldn’t look at him. “I guess this makes us even.”

The nurse escorted them down a hall, across a linoleum floor worn thin from the countless feet that had hurried across its surface over the years. “Paramedics found her dumped in the ambulance bay. No purse, no ID. She was in pretty bad shape. Broken arm, jaw, and ribs—inside was a mess. Punctured lung, ruptured spleen,” The nurse said.

Riley … how could she have let this happen
? Her head was spinning. “But she’s going to make it, right? She’s going to be okay?” She remembered the fight for her life, all those years ago. It was brutal. Bright lights and frantic voices shouting out words she didn’t understand. Hands … so many hands as they rushed to save her, keep her here, when all she wanted to do was float away.

The nurse stopped, gave her a pained look. “I’m sorry, I thought someone had told you … she coded forty-five minutes ago, right after we made the call.”

Dead. Her baby sister was dead.

She hadn’t even known she was going down until she felt Michael’s arm slip around her waist. He held her up, and she let him. He kept walking, keeping her close to his side, pulling her down the hall.

“How did you know to call her at the station?” This came from Michael. She looked up at him, wanted to hate him, wanted to ask him if he was happy now that she was suffering. What she saw was enough to quell the words that bubbled on her lips. His face looked the same, that hard emotionless mask he always wore—but she could see the ripples beneath the surface. He was completely wrecked.

The nurse looked at her. “Your name and precinct were written on one arm, her name on the other,” she said.

“
My name … my name was written on her arm? I don’t understand, I thought she was asking for me. Someone said—”

The nurse shook her head. “She didn’t ask for anything. Like I said, she was in bad shape. Your name on one arm, her name on the other,” she said, stopping in front of a curtained alcove, gave them both a look. Her eyes settled on the SFPD splashed across Michael’s chest in bright yellow. “Something else you’ll want to take a look at on her back.” She pulled it open. “I’ll give you a minute.”

Looking at the body laid out on a stretcher, she resisted the urge to turn her face into Michael’s shoulder. She pulled away from him, moved forward on her own.

She was an open wound from head to foot, bruised and ripped, torn and gouged—every inch of skin bore an injury, one bleeding into the next. Her head, hair dirty and matted with blood, rested on a pillow. Her once pretty face battered and swollen. She shot a look at Michael.

This wasn’t Riley.

Relief made her lightheaded. Her knees gave out and she sank into the hard metal chair, took a few uneven breaths that made her dizzy. “It’s not her.”

Without a word he moved forward, rolled her carefully to expose her back so they could see what had been carved into it. The slashes were messy with blood, but she could just make out the familiar words.

OLLY OLLY OXEN FREE

She stood, stared hard at the words that glared up at her. He was calling her home, like a child calling out after a game of hide-and-seek.
Come on out
. He’d always liked to play games.

The thought propelled her forward. She wasn’t even aware she’d left or that she was walking until she heard Michael’s footfalls step in time with hers. She looked over. He was right beside her. She reached for his hand and gripped it tight but kept walking.

FORTY
-
NINE

S
ABRINA DROPPED HIM OFF
in front of the Brewster place and drove home. There was an unmarked unit parked across the street from her house. She pulled into the drive and killed the engine before letting herself in through the back door. Through the kitchen window she could see Michael vaulting the fence that separated her property from Miss Ettie’s.

She’d explained the situation to him on the way home, told him that he was wanted for questioning and that her house would be under surveillance. Mathews would have badges sit on her place until he showed up, so it was best if he didn’t. He agreed to stay out of sight but flat-out refused to leave her alone.

They were leaving for Jessup in the morning. Until then, they had to stay out of sight. It was just a matter of time before Mathews found out about the girl in the hospital and that Sabrina was connected to yet another death—another dead body tossed at her feet.

She made sure all the downstairs curtains were closed before letting him in. He dropped what looked like a large briefcase with a numbered keypad into a chair and turned to look at her.

“Flight leaves for DFW at four tomorrow morning. You’re gonna have to get someone to overnight our weapons to Tom. We’ll pick them up there.” He looked uncomfortable with the prospect of being unarmed, even for a few hours. She knew the feeling.

She had to call Nickels. He’d been furious with her the last time she saw him, but she didn’t have a choice. Besides Strickland, he was the only one she trusted.

She dialed the number and he picked up on the fifth ring, like he was going to let it go to voicemail but decided at the last minute to answer instead.

“Hello.” He still sounded pissed. She could hear the faint pop of the gun range. He was at the station.

She swallowed hard. The words refused to come.

“What do you want, Vaughn.”

She cleared her throat. “I didn’t kill Sanford, and I didn’t get anyone to do it either.” It was important to her that he believed that.