Cold Hearted (Cold Justice Book 6) (37 page)

“It’s a good idea to track him down and ask. He lived in Kelvin Hall. It’s possible the perp was a friend of his or another student who also stayed there.” Erin agreed. “But we seem to be introducing more suspects, not less.” She dug her fingers into her scalp. She was moving stiffly. But Darsh was grateful she was moving at all. “What about the rope? Any hits on people buying it online around here?”

Agent Chen slid a piece of paper across the table to each of them. “I’ve highlighted the people on the list who don’t belong to the local climbing club, but they don’t cross match with any of the people on the other list of background checks Agent Singh asked me to run. I’ll search to see if any of them stayed in Kelvin Hall.”

Darsh ran his eyes down the list, but an unhighlighted name had him pausing for a moment.

“Roman Huxley?”

“Yeah, he’s big on the outdoors,” Erin confirmed. “Climbs, bikes year-round. He’s on the Search and Rescue team.”

Darsh frowned, thought aloud. “He’s also super smart, arrogant, and up on current forensic methods in criminal investigations.” He looked up and caught her eye. “He’s a little old but apart from that he fits the profile.”

“Seems a stretch. He’s a world-renowned academic.” Erin frowned. “I did overhear him and his research assistant having words when I left his office yesterday.”

“Know what it was about?”

She shook her head. “No. He has an alibi for Monday night, remember?”

“Where’s Bickham? I want her to double check exactly who was working at the shelter on Monday.”

“I’ll call her,” Ully said, writing in his notebook.

“I spoke to the people at Quantico. Those knots are proper climbing knots.” Excitement started to tingle the back of his neck.

“And he knew both victims of the homicide on Monday. Mandy worked in his lab over the summer, and Cassie went to him for information on serial rape.” Erin shuddered. “You really think this guy might be involved?”

The more he looked at it, the more he liked the professor as a suspect. “Dig into his background, can you?” he asked Ashley Chen. She immediately began typing. “See if he has any alibis for the rapes last year.”

“We need to interview him about the murders first, before you mention any connection to the rapes,” Erin argued. She was right.

“Think we can get a warrant to search his house?” Ully asked.

Darsh drew in a deep breath. “On this? I doubt it.”

Erin stood and walked stiffly to the whiteboard. She grabbed a marker and wrote “Peter Zimmerman.” “Okay, assuming it is the professor, I get he might try and frame the homeless guy, just to see our puny cop brains in action,” she said sarcastically. Then she wrote Drew Hawke’s name on the board. “But he has no connection with this guy.”

“Yeah—if Hawke isn’t guilty why frame the guy?” asked Ully. “Is he just jerking our chains? Or are we some sort of real-time social experiment?”

“What was your take on Hawke when you interviewed him the other day?” the chief asked Darsh.

Erin’s gaze swung to his, angry enough to leave bruises.

Dammit he should have told her.

He cleared his throat. “He seemed genuinely upset when he heard about Cassie. He never once slipped from the point of view of an innocent man.”

“Prison’s full of innocent men,” Ully shot back.

Darsh eyed him stonily. “I’m aware.”

Agent Chen interrupted. “With the raised awareness of college rapes in the US, could we be someone’s testing ground? The accusations against Hawke occurred during the turn of the tide when people stopped automatically believing top athletes were innocent just because they made their colleges a lot of money and scored a lot of points. If you wanted to look at a giant social experiment in action, look at how many ways you can screw with society and the justice system.”

“He’d also have loved the insights contained in the letters about Hawke’s life in prison.
And…
” Darsh pointed a finger at Erin. “He was in the booth behind us when we grabbed lunch the other day.” He held Erin’s gaze, but she kept her expression neutral. “He might have overheard us discussing what Rachel told us about her memories coming back. He might have worried she’d remember something incriminating.”

“It’s all circumstantial.” Erin eased down into the nearest chair. “I don’t buy it. Hell, we consulted with him on the rape case last year.” She dragged her hand through her hair. If anything, she looked even more exhausted now than she had last night.

The chief rose to his feet and glared at Erin. “You gave him access to all the rape files?” His chest rose and fell and rose again. “And now he’s a freaking suspect?”

She opened her mouth to argue and so did Darsh, but the chief cut them both off. “You’re fired.”

She blinked and sat there, visibly stunned.

“Clear out your desk immediately and don’t breathe a word of this to anyone, got it?”

“Detective Donovan has done a good job on these investigations.” Darsh stepped forward. “Firing her is not necessary or appropriate.”

“Neither is sleeping with the detective you’re investigating, Agent Singh.” The chief glared bitterly.

Darsh felt his face flush, but it was anger, not embarrassment.

“That has nothing to do with the case.” Darsh glared back even as Erin’s eyes widened.

“Oh, really? Did it ever occur to you that maybe she was sleeping with you so she didn’t get fired?”

Erin barked out a laugh. “Maybe Harry should ask if you have an alibi for when I was run off the road yesterday, Chief?” she bit out. “Just to be thorough.”

Chief Strassen pointed his finger angrily at her. Darsh forced himself not to grab the guy and snap it in two. “She was the one obsessed with the football team—”

“Because the rape victims told me the quarterback was the one who raped them!” Erin lost her temper, and Darsh couldn’t blame her. The witch hunt was over. The chief was ready to build the pyre.

“You were the one going after Jason Brady’s ass again this time,” Strassen spat out while Erin sat and fumed. “And all the time it was your pal over in the Psychology Department?”

“He’s not my pal,” Erin said with bitterness. “And I don’t think it’s him.”

“The professor’s a suspect—nothing more,” Darsh interceded. “We need a real reason to get a warrant to search his house, his car, office. Anywhere he may have hidden the letters taken from Cassie’s house on Monday. And we don’t even have cause.”

“He owns two cars. A smart car and a black hybrid SUV, and he volunteers at the rape crisis center from where Rachel received that phone call at five o’clock yesterday morning,” Agent Chen cut in.

Strassen stared at him stonily. “Write it up. I know a judge who’ll sign it.”

Darsh wanted the warrant, but he couldn’t let the guy just sack Erin for no reason. But the fact that they’d slept together made it look bad when he tried to defend her. Shit. “If we’re wrong about this we’re going to stir up a riot in this town and at the university,” he warned.

“There are demonstrations going on every goddamn day outside my office window, Agent Singh. The town’s already stirred up.” The chief walked to the door. “You have thirty minutes to leave the premises, Ms. Donovan.”

*     *     *

“Erin.”

Darsh’s voice followed her to her desk, but she didn’t slow or wait for him. She grabbed her bag and jacket off the back of the chair. Her fellow cops were standing around, watching her collect her things. They’d heard the chief fire her—they’d have to be deaf not to—and even if they disagreed, they could hardly go on strike when the town needed them more than ever. Anyway, she fought her own battles.

“Erin.”

She slowly swung to face Darsh, schooling her features into indifference because the alternate was screaming until someone wrestled her into a straightjacket. “You didn’t trust me enough to tell me you’d spoken to Drew Hawke a couple of days ago?”

“It didn’t seem relevant.”

“Not relevant?”

The light in his eyes changed, as if he recognized she was gearing up for a fight and didn’t need his sympathy. “I was sent to look at both investigations and see if there was any connection.”

“You were investigating me. I’m the one everyone had their eye on if we got it wrong last year.” She tried to keep the volume down.

“You knew what my job here was, Erin,” he told her. “You always knew.”

She pursed her lips as she nodded. “Which is why I shouldn’t have slept with you. Sleeping with you put you in an untenable position.”

And now he looked angry. Really angry. “We slept together after I’d examined the cases and knew you’d conducted a thorough investigation and hadn’t committed any wrongdoing.” Fury burned in his eyes. “I can look after my own integrity, Detective. I know how to be impartial.”

“But you’re not, are you?” And this was what made everything that had felt so right between them so damn wrong. “Unless you weren’t counting that night we spent together in Quantico three years ago that you said you couldn’t forget.”

She saw the realization hit him, but he shook his head. “I’m perfectly capable of being objective about a woman I’ve had sex with. If anything, I’d have been more likely to condemn you after Quantico. All I knew back then was you were willing to cheat on the one person in life you’d sworn to love and cherish.”

“I did cheat,” she insisted stubbornly.

“You’d served him with divorce papers after he attacked you.” He clenched his fists, clearly struggling to hold onto his temper. “That isn’t cheating. That’s wising the fuck up.”

Tears pricked her eyes as emotions pricked her heart. She turned away. “I need to get out of here before Strassen has me bodily thrown out.”

“I’ll shoot any fucker who tries.” He put his hand on her arm, holding her in place. She tried to shake him off, but he wouldn’t let go. It was the first time he’d treated her with anything except kid gloves. “Fight this, Erin. You didn’t do anything wrong. You’re a damn good cop, and he’s looking for a scapegoat so he doesn’t look like an incompetent ass.”

She kept her gaze on the knot in his necktie. She’d watched him tie it that morning through a haze of foolish optimism. She swallowed. “If I fight this, I’ll take you down with me. No way am I dragging down a respected FBI agent and former Marine sniper.”

His expression was bitter. “Don’t use me as an excuse,” he said in disgust. “I can fight my own battles, and I will. You need to go to your union rep. We didn’t break any hard and fast rules, Erin. We just bent them a little when we fell for each other. That isn’t against the rules.”

She shook her head and pulled away from his grip. “I’ll talk to my rep, but Strassen doesn’t want me here, so I’m gone.”

“Erin—”

“No.” She cupped her forehead. Fatigue was making her want to sink to the nearest flat surface and just sleep, but she had to get out of here first. She couldn’t deal with this. She felt too raw, too emotional, too battered. “We’re done, too, Darsh. You’ll be heading back home soon, and I have no idea where I’m going next, except maybe home to visit my family like I should have done years ago. This isn’t a good time to start a long distance relationship.”

He opened his mouth to argue.

“No.” She swallowed the awful feelings of heartbreak that were starting to pierce her composure. “I don’t want to get involved again. I don’t want to get hurt again. It’s just easier being single.”

She tried to move past, but he wouldn’t budge.

“You think I don’t know that? You think I don’t know exactly how much it hurts when someone you love turns out to suck? I won’t do that to you, Erin. I won’t let you down.” He bent down to meet her at eye level. “We don’t have to repeat old patterns. We don’t have to keep suffering because other people are assholes.”

She shrugged out of his grip. “I can’t. I just can’t. It’s not worth it.” She pushed past him, and this time he let her go. Someone would hopefully clear her desk, because she wasn’t hanging around to do it. She pulled out her service weapon and shield and dropped them with the desk sergeant, not meeting his eye. She kept her back straight the way her dad had taught her and walked out the building with her chin high as her fellow cops remained silent and watched her leave. She was almost in the parking lot when she realized she didn’t have a ride home.

Ully Mason pulled up in a patrol car. “Get in,” he told her. “Where do you want to go?”

Home. She wanted to go home. “I need transportation.”

He nodded and took off.

She didn’t bother looking backwards. She was done with this town and with the FBI agent she’d fallen for. He’d stolen her heart, and she’d broken his. How the hell could anything be worth the pain that was bound to follow?

D
arsh stood behind
Harry Compton and Officer Bickham as they knocked on Professor Roman Huxley’s office door. Darsh was trying to get his mind off Erin. It wasn’t working.

“Come in,” the man shouted.

Harry went in first, holding out the court order. Darsh went around the opposite side of the desk and stood near the window.

Huxley climbed to his feet. “What can I do for you all?” He was wearing a purple skinny-rib sweater, and his hair looked like it had been ruffled by a professional hair stylist. One of the grad students Darsh met a few days ago stood behind his boss, mouth open in shock.