Deathwatch (20 page)

By noon the place was as fortified as Murph could make it without installing bulletproof windows and a machine-gun nest on the roof.
Among other things, he’d reframed the laundry chute that went from the upstairs bathroom to the laundry room downstairs.
It wasn’t wide enough for him, but Kate could drop down without trouble if she got trapped upstairs.
That route would be safer than her negotiating the rain spout outside.

Satisfied with the new security measures, he drove to the station for another look at the law enforcement databases.
Everybody was in.
Must have been a slow day for crime in Broslin.

“
I’ll put on a fresh pot of coffee for you.”
Leila fussed over him.
 

Bing came out of his office.
“Everything all right?”

“
Just want to check on something.
Mind if I sign on to the computer?”
 

“
Go ahead.
Anything I can help you with?”
 

Murph shook his head.
“Tenant stuff.
Anything I can help
you
with?”
He didn’t specify, but they both knew he meant Stacy’s case.
 

“
Can’t even find the damn murder weapon.
No new leads,” Bing said with the weariness of a man who’d been up all night looking for some.
“So the tenant’s still not out?”
he asked, probably to change the subject.
 

“
She’s fine where she is,” Murph told him, because as Police Captain, Bing sometimes handled evictions, and Murph had a feeling the man was about to offer his assistance in that capacity.
“I don't mind helping her out.”
 

Bing's eyes narrowed.“She’s in some kind of trouble?”

Murph hesitated.
He didn’t want to lie.
“Not with the law.”

The man stood in silence for a minute then nodded, catching that it was the tenant’s private business, something Murph wasn’t authorized to share.

“
You can handle a nasty ex,” he said at last, guessing at the nature of her difficulties.
“But you know you only have to call if you want us to take care of it.”
 

“
I appreciate that.”
 

Leila came around the counter, her neon-pink sneakers fairly blinding.
“FBI is on line one, Captain.
It’s about the bank robberies.”

Bing nodded at Murph.
“Let me know if you need anything.”
Then he walked away.

Murph grabbed a steaming mug of fresh coffee.
“Thanks, Leila.
This is great.”
He walked back to his desk and plopped down in front of his computer, turned it on.

Chase was on the phone, but waved at him.

Harper lifted a mocking eyebrow.
“What are you doing here?
Leggy redhead didn’t work out?
Too much for you, old man?”

Murph was two years older than Harper, a chasm.
In maturity, in any case.
“I can handle whatever comes my way, buddy.”

“
Oh, yeah?
Then why aren’t you at home with her?”
 

“
She’s at work.”
 

“
How hot is she?
Seriously.”
 

Murph said nothing as he logged in.

Harper grabbed his chest.
“That hot?
Oh, man.
And she just fell into your bed?”

“
I found her in my bed.
It’s not the same thing.”
 

“
As long as you have
hot chick
and
bed
in the same sentence, it’s all good.”
Harper grinned, then picked up his phone when Leila transferred a call to him.
 

Murph shook his head as he pulled his keyboard closer.
He looked up Rauch Asael again to see if any new information had been added.

He scanned the few new lines of data.
According to the Interpol, there was some indication that at least on two separate occasions, Asael might have worked with an unidentified partner slash love interest.
They also had some clues that pointed to Asael being in Hong Kong as late as this past Monday.

That gave Murph pause.
He’d come home on Monday.
He’d seen someone in the dark-blue sedan down the road.
If Asael had been in Hong Kong, who was watching Kate here?
Who drove the dark-blue sedan?

Asael’s lover?
Murph tapped his fingers on the desk.

What if Asael delegated the hit?
Or maybe his lover took it upon herself to take Kate out.

The lover could be Delia, the new waitress at the diner, or his new neighbor, Wendy White, or any number of women.
He scanned the rest of the report, but found nothing that could identify who they were looking for.

He did find plenty of blood in the crime scene photos from Hong Kong.
Body parts.
His stomach turned.
Hell, he could smell the blood.
And the smoke.
And then, the next second, Murph could hear his teammates screaming as the IEDs exploded.
Just like that, he was back in the dry riverbed, the sun beating down on him as he scrambled half-blind to save his men.

It took work, and at least a full minute to shake off the flashback.
Every muscle tense, his breath came in ragged gasps as he closed Asael’s file.

He was brimming with frustration as he ran background checks on Jimmy and Antonio.
Technically, Asael’s lover could be either sex.
He wasn’t ruling out anything at this stage.
On second thought, he ran a background check on Fred, the mechanic, too, even if he’d been crossed off the suspect list for now.

But the men all checked out, nothing suspicious in the system.
Of course, a professional assassin could fake a better false identity than Kate had.
Just because Murph hadn’t found anything, it didn’t mean one of her new friends wasn't hiding a dark secret.

He ran Wendy White.
Squeaky clean.
Kind of local, grew up in Avon Grove.

“
Hey, Harper, you know the new waitress at the diner?
Delia.
What's her last name?”
Harper could usually be depended on knowing every pretty girl in a fifty mile radius.
 

“
Parisi.”
 

“
Thanks.”
Murph ran her name through the system next.
 

She came from Trenton, New Jersey, had lived there all her life until now.
High school dropout.
Minor trouble with the law.
She'd smoked some pot in her younger days, that kind of thing.

Annoyed that he hadn’t gained more, Murph shut down the computer and hurried off after a few words to the guys.
Bing was still on the phone, looking decidedly unhappy.

Outside, Robin was bringing the mail, practically flying up the walkway, bundled up against the cold and then some, barely a slice of her face showing.

“
Behind schedule.”
She zipped by Murph.
But a second later she called back, making him turn.
“Congratulations on your new thresher!”
Then she disappeared inside the station.
 

She’d gone off the deep end, he thought.
Definitely on the strange side.
As soon as he had a second, he was going to take her to the diner for some pie and coffee, have a long chat and figure out what was going on with her.
If this was something like Alzheimer’s, somebody needed to notice and help her deal with it.

The loud bang came just as he reached his car.
He hit the ground.
He could smell the smoke and sulfur and the blood.
For a second he could hear the screams, and his heart slammed so hard against his rib cage he thought it might burst.

Then his vision cleared, and he could see the metal garbage container the truck across the street had accidentally dropped, the chains dangling from the lever as the driver jumped from the cab swearing and rushed back to see what had gone wrong.

Murph straightened.
Clenched his jaw.

He didn’t look around to see if anyone had witnessed his freaking idiotic—
Jeezus.
He got into his car and slammed the door shut.
 

His muscles stiffened as a dark mood descended on him.
Maybe he was worse off than he’d thought.
Maybe he shouldn’t have talked Kate into staying.
What if he couldn’t protect her?

He smacked the side of his fist into the steering wheel as he swore.
Doubts were the enemy.
A successful op had no room for that kind of crap.
He'd protect her or die trying.
Because he still believed Kate's best chance was staying with him.

He dialed her cell as he turned the key in the ignition.
“The hit man might be a woman.”

“
What?”
 

“
Asael was just in Hong Kong.
He sometimes works with a love interest of his.
So if Asael isn’t in Broslin, then the person watching you might be his lover.
Are you at work?”
 

“
Where else would I be?”
 

“
Antonio?”
 

“
Hasn't come in yet today.”
 

“
Keep an eye on the women, too.
Especially anyone new to town who’s been acting friendly with you.”
The idea of her being surrounded by people, any one of whom could be the killer, had all his muscles tightening.
 

“
Delia is here,” she said after a moment.
 

“
I’m heading over there right now.”
He hung up as he turned onto Main Street, into heavier traffic, praying he wasn't too late.
 

* * *

Kate waited at the counter for Eileen to fill the coffee mugs for the table of older women—all seven wearing nearly identical pink sweaters—on an antiquing trip.
Murph sat in the corner, his back to the wall, in a position from where he could see everything.
He finally finished scrutinizing the employees and the current customers, and was now staring at every person who came in.

Kate went weak in the knees every time she looked at him, their tumble on the floor the night before playing on an endless loop in her mind.
She’d nearly spilled the half-dozen strawberry milkshakes when she'd served the table next to his.
Good thing they'd been super thick and could take a little extra jostling.

Murph gave no sign that he even remembered what the two of them had done the night before.
He was definitely in a different mood.
He brought in some kind of dark energy with him that didn’t belong to the diner.

Eileen watched him with a frown as she filled the last mug on the tray.
“How long is he going to stay?”
she asked, just as he pushed to his feet in an abrupt movement and strode over to them.

He took the tray Kate had just picked up and set it back on the counter.
“She’s leaving early today,” he told Eileen.
“And she’s not coming in tomorrow.”

With that, he grabbed Kate's hand and dragged her through the diner.
And she went along, gritting her teeth, only because she didn’t want to cause a scene and make everything worse.

She dialed Eileen as soon as they were in the car, and he let her go.
“I’m really sorry about that.”

“
Did he just snap?
Should I call Bing?”