Deadly Dreams (46 page)

“Is that what you told Sammy Baltes?”

He grinned, leaned forward to slap his hand on the table. “Can’t tell Sammy a thing, can I? Dead is dead.”

“Unless it isn’t.” To Nate’s surprise, Risa said the next words in unison with the man. Juicy looked gleeful. “See? She knows what I’m talkin’ about. Baltes is dead. His old lady is dead. Lamont is dead. There’s just no way of bringing’em back.”

“We could have argued the Crowley murder falls within the realm of our investigation,” Risa mused on the way back to Nate’s office.

“And I would have if I thought it would shed any light on whoever is torching up these cops. But what we got from Crowley led us to Juicy, and he’s the one of interest here.” Nate was still trying to figure just how involved he was in this case. “It wasn’t worth waging turf wars over it. Let someone else sift through the scores of phony witnesses Juicy will have willing to swear he was somewhere else when Crowley took the dive off that building.”

Detectives Tomey and Edwards turned a corner, nearly ran into them. “Good,” the older Tomey grunted. “We were just looking for you.”

Interest quickened inside him. “You get a match on those photos I gave you?”

“We didn’t see any signs of the others, but this guy?” Tomey tapped the picture Nate had added to the packet before giving it to them this morning. “He’s front and center at two of the services.”

The picture was of Joseph Mauro. The suicide that had somehow ended up with a bullet in his chest.

“Good work,” he told the pair of detectives. “Any chance the other men in the pictures could have been there and not shown up on the camera?”

“Camera placement was pretty solid,” the more laconic Edwards put in. “But there are definitely areas on the video that can be looked at more closely. The services were huge. I heard officers from all over the state, even some outside the state, were there to pay their respects.”

“Which makes it,” Risa murmured when they continued on their way to Nate’s office, “even more interesting that Randolph didn’t show. Or Eggers.”

“I didn’t go to the last memorial,” Nate pointed out, as he headed back to his desk. “I went to the visitations for each victim, but once the investigation was up and running, I felt my time was better spent trying to solve the thing.”

He could tell he hadn’t convinced her when she settled into a contemplative silence. When his cell rang, he took it out and checked the caller ID. His pulse quickened. He lost no time answering it. “Kristin.”

“Call off the dogs, Nate.” His sister’s tone was caustic. No surprise there. “Who do you have sniffing around? Cass? Some other female cop? I know you have someone hounding all my friends. Tell them to back off.”

“Where are you?”

“If I’d wanted you to know that, I would have told you before leaving, wouldn’t I?” He knew his sister well enough to recognize the false bravado in her voice. “Just for once give me a little space. A little credit. I’m just trying to find a better job.”

“In Atlantic City?”

Silence was his only answer. He barely noticed when Risa walked by, dropping a slip of paper on his desk before heading out the door. “I can get a PI buddy of mine to verify where you are. To locate your hotel.”

“And then what? Come to haul me kicking and screaming back home?”

The visual image wasn’t a pretty one. Mostly because it mirrored pretty closely what he’d had in mind. “Tuck needs to be in school. And he does best with consistency. With familiar surroundings.”

“Tucker’s fine. School will be out in a couple weeks anyway. Sometimes I think you wish he were your son and not mine. But he is mine, Nate. And I have to have a way to provide for him. We can’t depend on you forever.”

“And what will you find in Atlantic City that you can’t find here?” Even he recognized the note of resignation in his voice.

Her tone was cautious, as if not trusting in his too easy capitulation. “A job. I got a tip the night I went downtown with some friends last week that they were looking for dealers. But if that doesn’t work out, I might be able to get hired on as a bartender. I’ve already got a line on a college student who could watch Tucker at night, while he’s sleeping. That’d be easier on him than leaving him with a stranger during the day, Nate. You know it would.”

He could have pointed out that Tuck’s current babysitter wasn’t a stranger. But the battle was lost, and he knew it. Unless he wanted to engage in a long, ugly custody battle, one that would take months to resolve, he had to let Kristin go. If she wasn’t currently drinking, his grounds would be shaky, at best.

“You didn’t have to leave like that, Kristin,” he said bleakly. “How long would you have gone without a word if Cass hadn’t picked up your trail?”

“I’m sorry.” The words sounded choked. “But you would have tried to talk me out of it and I thought . . . I’d planned to call once I had a job lined up.”

His throat clogged. Staring blindly at the wall of his office, he cleared it. “Daily phone calls from now on. And I’m going to want to be able to speak to Tucker.”

“I can do that. It’s just until I earn enough money for school. A couple years maybe. And Atlantic City is only about an hour from Philadelphia.”

“You’ve got it all figured out.” His attempt at lightness fell flat.

“I’m trying to anyway.” Kristin’s laugh was shaky. “About time, don’t you think?”

After another minute in which the conversation seemed to grow more strained, Nate made his excuses and hung up. Then stared at the phone in his hand, his chest tight. He’d never minded stepping in to offer a helping hand when his sister needed it. And although taking on the raising of Tucker for a couple years had meant a major life and attitude adjustment for him, it had become his new normal. And it hadn’t hurt that Tucker, despite the challenges presented by his disability, was so great to be around.

Now apparently it was time to see how he was at stepping aside when that helping hand was no longer needed. Or wanted.

Drawing a deep breath, he dialed Cass’s landline number to tell her thanks. And that she could stop looking for Kristin.

Because Risa felt a measure of guilt for lying to Nate about where she was going, she assuaged it by making a point of swinging by both the hospital and Jerry’s first. And then, a couple hours later, she headed to her intended destination.

Carly Williams answered the door and looked at her without enthusiasm. “You again.”

“I’m sorry to bother you.” Risa flashed a smile that wasn’t returned. “I wondered if you’d remembered anything else about your sister, Tory, that might be helpful.”

“Look, I told you two everything I knew yesterday. Now I’ve got grandkids to lay down for naps and a house to clean, so if there’s nothing else . . .” She made to close the door.

“Actually, there is,” Risa said quickly. “Would you happen to have any pictures of your nephew? Sam Baltes.”

The woman screwed up her brow. “You mean when he lived here?”

“No, after he was grown. You’d indicated you saw him some after he got out of foster care.”

But Williams was shaking her head. “No, I don’t have anything like that. He was like a stranger when he came round after he got older. Didn’t have any reason to be snapping photos of him.”

“Would you mind looking at these sketches?” She handed her a sheet taken from the legal pad she’d drawn on last night. “Does either of these two men look familiar?”

Impatiently, the woman snatched it from her, glanced at it. Then she stared harder at the sketches of Jett Brandau and Darrell Cooper. “Who’s the artist? You? That’s a fine likeness there. Other than the hair color, you caught Sam darn near perfectly.”

“Darrell Cooper is Sam Baltes?” Stunned surprise sounded in Nate’s words.

“That’s what his aunt claims.” Risa lowered her cell phone for an instant as she slowed to make room for the moron in the next lane intent on cutting in front of her. A moment later she resumed the conversation. “Which means he’s donned another identity for some purpose. Probably that of the guy found burnt to death in his car.”

“Slow down,” he cautioned. “It might have been a case of his aunt making the wrong identification at that time.”

“And he decided to leave the Sam Baltes ID behind because the opportunity arose?” A mental fragment from the last two dreams flashed across her mind. Of the young blond boy racing down the street with Juicy. Of the image of the boy melding, transforming, into Darrell. There wasn’t a doubt in her mind. But she knew without his saying a word that Nate would take much more convincing.

“I need Darrell’s address.” She checked her rearview mirror and took the next exit.

“I’ll call him. Have him come in.”

“Let me go by there first.” Risa waited for a break in the traffic to pull onto the interstate. “I want to get an idea of where he lives.” How he lives. And if there were anything in the vicinity of his home that would point to his involvement.

“Absolutely not.” His tone was emphatic.

“He doesn’t have to know that I’m around. Although as long as I’m there, it would make sense for me to drive him in for questioning.”

He was silent for a moment. Then, “You can locate the residence. Then call me. You stay put, keep an eye on the house.”

Since it was as good a deal as she was likely to get, she agreed with alacrity.

“I’m serious, Risa.” His tone brooked no argument. “I’m trusting you not to be stupid enough to try and accost him yourself. Promise me.”

“I can promise I won’t do anything stupid.” She held the line while he located the address. When he began speaking again, she snatched a pen from the visor and wrote on the back of the sketches. “Got it.”

“I’m trusting you.” The note in his voice gave her pause. “I want a call back in an hour or the next BOLO will be for you.”

“Give me an hour and a half.” She glanced at the notation she’d made once more before returning her gaze to the highway. “Traffic is murder today.”