Concrete Savior (20 page)

“I see.” Bheru hadn’t moved. “Who is this person providing him with information? And how does she herself get this information?”

“We don’t know very much about her,” Brynna answered. “But I’m betting she finds out this stuff kind of like I do sometimes.”

“I see,” the dark-skinned detective said again. He took a deep breath. “There is a lot of speculation here,” he finally said. “Perhaps even more than in the Cho Kim case.”

Brynna nodded, glancing at Eran as the cell phone strapped to his belt beeped. He unclipped it and stepped away, leaving her to continue on her own. “I can tell you I’ve been close to the woman he’s involved with, and she’s being forced to give out the information by someone else. She’s not doing it on her own.”

Finally, a reaction from Bheru. uA third person?”

“Yes,” Brynna said. “A blackmailer. Someone who has kidnapped her husband.” She let that sink in, then added, “I’m not even sure he’s still alive, but
she
believes he is. That’s why she’s still cooperating.”

Bheru frowned. “We should get right on this. Every moment counts—”

“She won’t talk to us,” Brynna interrupted. “I tried already and she threatened to call the police. Before you think that’s a good idea because of the kidnapping, remember she has no idea how much I know about her—all the secrets she hasn’t told
anyone
. I even told her I could help find him, but she’s terrified. She has to be afraid she’s being watched.”

“By the person who has her husband.”

“Yeah. And unfortunately, I don’t know who that is.”

Before she could continue, Eran strode up to them. His face was grim. “Come on,” he said between nearly clenched teeth. “We have to go talk to Anlon right
now
, find out exactly what Georgina Whitfield told him this morning.” He motioned them to follow him as he headed toward the entrance to the building.

“What’s wrong?” Brynna asked as she and his partner followed him.

“Jack Gaynor is what’s wrong,” Eran said in a clipped voice. “Anlon’s second rescue. He beat his wife and stepson to death this morning. A neighbor heard screaming and called the cops, and he attacked the officers who came to the door. It happened so fast and the guy was so crazed that one of the uniforms ended up shooting Gaynor just to stop him. He’s dead.”

Brynna wasn’t surprised, but for the first time, Bheru’s calm expression changed to one of shock. “So two out of the three rescues he has successfully accomplished have ultimately ended in tragedy.”

“Oh, we’re not done yet,” Eran said. “I also just found out that Danielle Myers—that’s the mentally disabled girl Anlon tried to pull out of the river—was resuscitated at Cook County Hospital. It turns out she’s very much alive.”

THERE WAS A SECURITY
guard in the lobby but a flash of Eran’s detective’s star got them past the guy with barely a pause. The three of them rode the elevator up to Casey Anlon’s condo in silence, and Brynna could only imagine what was going on in her companions’ minds. Eran, perhaps, wasn’t so hard to guess—he might still be subconsciously struggling against it, but he’d seen some things that were pretty out there as far as human believability went. Bheru, on the other hand, was a little harder to gauge. He had said and shown that he had the inclination to believe, but did he have the heart to go all the way? Eventually they might all find out.

The hallway was pretty plush, with gold- and green-striped carpeting and muted, modern brass-rimmed light fixtures spaced evenly between the doors to each unit. The doors were steel fire doors cleverly disguised as wood and there were no bells or knockers, probably because all visitors were expected to have stopped at the guard desk and been cleared before they ever got to someone’s front door. Eran rapped on Casey Anlon’s door with his knuckles and the sound was oddly loud and out of place in the quiet, upscale corridor.

“Who is it?” came Anlon’s muffled voice. Smart, Brynna thought. Even inside the supposedly secure building, he wasn’t going to open the door unless he knew who was on the other side.

“Detective Redmond, Mr. Anlon. We’d like to speak to you.”

The silence was long enough so that they all knew Casey was considering refusing. Eran opened his mouth to call out again, but the quiet sound of the expensive dead bolt turning stopped him. Anlon opened the door just wide enough so that he could see them. His gaze found Brynna and darkened. “What do you want?”

“We would like to speak with you regarding Mr. Jack Gaynor,” Bheru said in an ultra-polite tone.

The young man’s face was blank. “Who?”

“Jack Gaynor,” Eran answered. “He’s the guy you pulled from the burning car on the Kennedy Expressway on Wednesday.”

“What about him?” Casey’s voice was just shy of querulous.

Eran looked pointedly at the semi-closed door. “May we come in?”

“I would prefer yu didn’t.”

“He’s dead,” Brynna said before either of the detectives could answer. “Do you really want to have this conversation in the hallway where one of your neighbors might show up at any time?”

Anlon’s mouth worked but for a long moment nothing came out. Then he stepped back and pulled the door open enough for them to enter. “Come on in.”

Eran led the way, with Bheru trailing behind Brynna. Brynna had seen the way most of the men downtown held the door for her and the other females—an endearing cultural thing, although she was perfectly capable of opening her own door. Eran himself had treated her the same, most of the time acting like the quintessential gentleman. Here, however, he stepped in front of her like the professional cop that he was, making sure all was safe before allowing anyone else to move into unknown territory.

“Have a seat,” Casey said, although he clearly wasn’t happy about it. “What was she just saying? That guy I saved from the fire—now he’s dead?”

Instead of sitting, Eran leaned against the granite breakfast bar that separated the kitchen from the dining room area of the small apartment. “He is. He died this morning.”

Casey hesitated as he looked from Eran to Bheru and Brynna. Finally, he had to ask. “How?”

Eran kept his face impassive. “He was shot by one of the police officers who responded to an assault-in-progress call. Afterward, the responding officers entered his residence and discovered he had killed his wife and stepson.”

Anlon’s complexion went suddenly gray. “You can’t be serious.”

Eran just stared at him. “This is not something a person jokes about, Mr. Anlon.”

Although no one else had sat, Casey sank onto the couch. The black leather made his skin look the color of wet concrete. “He
killed
them?”

“Yes,” Bheru put in. “And he would have killed the policeman had he not defended himself.”

"-1" face="AJensonPro-Disp" color="#000000">“So I’m going to ask you again, Mr. Anlon. Who’s giving you the information about the people you’ve rescued? Who’s telling you to go save them?”

The younger man looked down, focusing on the carpet rather than taking a chance and meeting Eran’s eyes. “No one. I just . . .” The lie dwindled before he could fully voice it.

Brynna had been standing close to Bheru and doing nothing more than listening. The whole apartment was permeated with that familiar ocean breeze nephilim smell, and she couldn’t help enjoying it. Now she walked over and sat on a matching black chair, careful to stay far enough away so that he couldn’t balk as he’d done at the police station. “Who are you protecting?” she asked quietly. “The young lady who met you at Starbucks this morning?”

Casey jerked, then his expression slipped into something just short of panic. “I don’t know what you mean.”

“Of course you do,” Eran said. “You’re a smart guy. It doesn’t take a rocket scientist to realize the police are watching you.”

“That was just a friend,” he said. His shoulders were hunched and tight. “That’s all.”

Brynna raised an eyebrow. Liar, liar. The signs were so obvious to her—especially his increased heart rate and temperature—but of course, Eran and Bheru couldn’t tell. On the other hand, they instinctively knew better so it didn’t matter. Maybe she could shock him into spilling the information. Brynna leaned forward. “You know she’s married, right?”

Two splotches of red appeared high on Casey’s cheeks.

Oops—guess not.

“I told you. She’s just a friend.”

“Who kissed you on the mouth,” Eran said.

“An
old
friend.”

Eran brought out his notebook and flipped it to a blank page. “What’s her name?”

More hesitation. “Gina.”

Eran waited, pen ready, but Anlon didn’t say anything else. “I need more than that, Mr. Anlon. Last name, employer, her address and telephone.”

“Why?” Casey demanded. “She’s not involved in anything.”

“Because I’d like to ask her that
personally
.” When Anlon still didn’t respond, Eran added, “Because I don’t think you know
any
of it.”

They waited an uncomfortable amount of time before Anlon finally answered. “All right, so I don’t know her all that well—her name and that she works for some kind of government agency. I didn’t know she’s married, but I guess that explains a lot.” Brynna heard him mutter under his breath, “Does it ever.”

“If she’s the one giving you this information—”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” he interrupted. “Where would she get it? She’s not involved.”

“Oh, I think she is,” Brynna said calmly. “A lot more than you realize.”

“She does not work for any government agency,” Bheru told him. “Her full name is Georgina Whitfield and she is a saleswoman at a tailoring shop on Michigan Avenue.”

Anlon’s jaw dropped, then his face hardened. “If you knew all this, why ask me?” he demanded. “Because you’re trying to trap me or something, that’s why. But guess what? I haven’t done anything wrong, so your stupid games aren’t going to do any good.” He took a breath. “And really, if she
did
work for a secret agency of some kind, what makes you think you’d know it?”

Eran’s forehead lifted. “Secret?”

Anlon snapped his mouth shut. “I think you should—”

“Casey,” Brynna cut before he could finish telling them to leave, “we’re not interested in where Georgina works. I talked to her, face-to-face, and I
know
she’s the one giving you the names and information on people to rescue. I’m even fairly certain I know
why
she’s doing it.”

“What we’re interested in,” Eran said, “is who she told you to rescue next.” He took a step closer to the younger man. “We’re trying to prevent another tragedy here, Mr. Anlon. This is going to sound odd but it’s looking like a whole lot of folks would be alive if each of these people she’s telling you to save might had been left to their original destiny. And really, is saying that any stranger than her telling you who to rescue and where to go to do it?”

“I’m sure you’ve heard the saying ‘Leave well enough alone,’ ” Bheru added.

“But you don’t know that!” Anlon got to his feet with a jerk. “You don’t have a crystal ball—”

“But Georgina’s is clearly not working properly,” Brynna said.

“You don’t know that,” Casey said again. “Would
you
want to be responsible for letting someone who might be a good person die when you know you could have saved them?” He held up his hand. “Don’t answer that, because it doesn’t matter what you say.
I
don’t. It’s just coincidence, nothing more.”

“There’s no such thing,” Brynna said.