Every Move She Makes (17 page)

"Thank you," I said, very much aware of Torrance's presence beside me.

"Actually, I figured you could use some company right about now. One of
your SWAT guys was in my office when he got paged. I heard what
happened." He rose and stretched his arms. "Yes." My mind raced to
analyze how I could take this situation-Reid's presence-and make it work
to my advantage. "If it was Scolari, he wasn't in there." "How are you
holding up?" he asked, almost hesitantly. He shoved his hands in his
pants pockets, once again reminding me of that little-boy look. He
appeared very innocent. He was good in the acting department. "I don't
know." I knew then what I needed to do. I glanced at Torrance, who
seemed unmoved by our touching scene, as though he saw through me. That
of course was nothing unusual, but it made me wonder about him even
more. "Can we have a few minutes?" I asked him. "I'll be outside in
the hall." Torrance shut the door behind him, and for a moment I thought
about confiding in Reid about Scolari paging me. His concern was
endearing, though I didn't doubt for a moment it was a show. He was a DA
investigator and part of the special homicide team investigating
Patricia's death, so his job was on the side of the prosecution. Like
Torrance, he'd look at the circumstantial facts, which at the moment
were overwhelmingly against Scolari. And who knew if his
overpossessiveness would get in the way? I was being watched enough as
it was. "I'm glad you're here," I said, taking the seat he'd vacated on
my arrival. He reached out, took my hand. "Maybe we can go out tonight,
talk about it. What you're going through can't be pleasant."

"Worse than you can imagine," I said, ignoring his invitation.

"Look. Those property clerks ... Paolini ... Well, after I spoke to
Torrance on the phone this afternoon, I agree with him that Paolini
might have set this whole thing up, killing the property clerks and
destroying the evidence in his case."

"I know. I'd rather not talk about it," I said truthfully.

"It's too soon." "I'm sorry." He looked genuinely so, still holding my
hand as though he didn't know what to say, and I felt bad. Maybe he
wanted to talk, needed to talk, and I was shutting him down. Hell, I was
using him. I wanted Torrance out, and it had worked; now I needed Reid
out. The question was why? What loyalty did I owe Scolari other than
that he was my partner? lie dragged me from the Twin Palms after I'd
been shot. At risk to himself. The least I could do was give him a few
moments of my time. If he was innocent, then he deserved my help. If he
was guilty ... then so be it. I'd lead him to Torrance in a set of
silver handcuffs. With my free hand, I fiddled with papers at my desk,
my fingers itching to get at the phone. "About tonight. I'd love to go
out with you, but I'm afraid there'd be a third wheel. Lieutenant
Torrance is keeping me under constant surveillance. He has been since
Saturday night when I met you for dinner." Reid's grip on my hand
tightened, his expression tensed. "That's one of the reasons I'm here.

Paolini's attorneys have filed an appeal based on Scott Forrest's
involvement in his case. The DA sent me here to make sure you were
aware-"

"Thanks," I said. "But Torrance already told me.

Maybe that's why he's playing pseudo-bodyguard." "How much of a bodyguard
are we talking?" he asked, apparently still not quite understanding what
I was telling him.

"He's been staying at my place since-"

"He's sleeping with you?"

"Excuse me?"

"Bad choice of words. I meant, at your house?"

"Yes.

He sat in Scolari's chair, leaned back, crossed his leg over his knee. I
don't know why, but I got the idea Reid was regrouping. "Sort of puts a
damper on your private life."

"You could say that."

"Look, Kate, I know the timing's bad, what with everything that's been
going on, but after our lunch and dinner the other night, I thought
maybe ..." "I don't think it'll work," I said in all seriousness. We'd
had this conversation before. His possessive side was starting to show
through again, something he seemed able to hide behind all that charm he
oozed. I needed to cut this guy out of my life, and fast. But then I
remembered what I had to do, and changed tactics midstream. "Unless you
can talk to torrance. But talk to him outside in the hallway. He's got a
thing about not bending the rules in front of officers.

With you, he might be more inclined."

"Sort of a man-to-man thing?"

"You got it."

"Anything for you, babe." I didn't bother telling him I wasn't anyone's
"babe," especially not his. The moment he exited, shut the door behind
him, I reached for the phone, punched in the numbers on the keypad,
numbers I knew by heart.

It rang once. "Where are you?" I asked the moment Scolari answered.

"Never mind. What the hell took you so long?" "I'm being watched closer
than the president," I said, my gaze locked on the door. "Why haven't
you turned yourself in?" "Someone out there's serious about this shit,
and at the moment, I have no plans to end up in a body bag."

"If you're innocent, they'll protect you."

"I'm more worried about you right now."

"I'm fine. Torrance is watching me."

"You trust him?"

"Shouldn't I?"

"At the moment, don't trust anyone. just yourself, and your instincts."

"They say you were in the basement today. Just before Martin and Smith
were killed."

"How the hell would I have gotten into the Hall without being arrested?"

"They saw you at the morgue." He didn't try to deny it. "I wanted copies
of the autopsies Patricia oversaw the last year." "Why?" I heard the
door open, and saw Reid swinging it wide. Four people were grouped in
the doorway behind him, including Torrance. There was Josic Hilliard,
wearing a red dress, undoubtedly with Her husband, Evan Hilliard,
tanned, white-haired, dark silk suit, no tie, his hand at her elbow as
though supporting her in her delicate medicated state. Dex Kenngard
brought up the rear. Reid was saying something to Torrance, who was now
watching me. I ignored nearly everyone, more interested in what was
going on in Torrance's mind. I figured I might as well hold up a flag
that said, "Scolari's here, talking to me on his cellular."

"I don't know, yet," Scolari continued, unaware of
my predicament. "But why would anyone kill Patricia unless she knew
something? And what could she have known that didn't come in on a
gurney?" I wanted to ask him if she'd mentioned the seeds, if he knew
about them, but I didn't dare. "Make it a small
Pepperoni and mushrooms."

"Who's there?" Scolari asked. "Hold on." I stood just as Mathis and Zim
came in through the secretary's office. "You guys interested in some
pizza? I'm calling in a phone order."

"Can't," Reid said. "Gotta get back to the office."

"Sure," came Torrance's reply. Mathis shook his head. Zim said nothing.

"Small is fine," I said into the receiver.

"Get the reports. Read them. Let me know." He disconnected. I hung up,
sat back, my chair squeaking. Reid, Mathis, and Zim appeared oblivious
to my call. Torrance was a different story. I didn't know whether he
believed the pizza thing, but at the moment, I didn't care. I was more
interested in the Hilliards' presence. "Mrs. Hilliard," I said,
standing. "I wasn't expecting you so soon." Her face was pale, more so
than when I'd seen her earlier, and her red lipstick, the same shade as
her dress, made her skin seem ethereal. It was her husband who spoke.

"My wife wants it on record that we intend to cooperate with your
investigation," he said, "and with Lieutenant Torrance. I understand
that he needs to speak with my wife ... about another matter. But I
must ask if we can schedule for a later date. I have a board meeting in
fifteen minutes. Several representatives flew in from Arkansas, and are
due to leave in two hours. It will be extremely inconvenient to have to
reschedule." The matter of homicide wasn't exactly convenient either,
but I kept my remark to myself. I caught Dex's gaze, the almost
imperceptible nod he gave to Evan Hilliard at his comment. I had to
reevaluate the man. Gone was Dex's lab coat, in its place a charcoal
suit. His stance on the surface casual, feet apart, hands clasped before
him, reminded me more of a Secret Service agent guarding an ambassador.

I wasn't sure that I was too far off the mark. Dex had a dangerous look
about him, reminded me a bit of Zim, someone who thrived on
intimidation. I thought of the homicide Dex left the department over,
and decided it bore looking into. "Dexter," Evan Hilliard continued,
"has explained the importance of speed in such an investigation." "It
can wait," I said. Only because I needed time to prepare-and think about
the latest developments concerning the Hilliards and Dex. Let Torrance
think I was working on the Ice Man case. What I really wanted to know
was what went on between Josie and the doctor, how Scolari was involved,
and why he seemed to harbor such ambivalent feelings toward Dex after
all these years.

"Why don't we reschedule for, let's say, tomorrow?"

"Tomorrow's fine," Hilliard said, without consulting his wife. "Thank
you, Inspector." "You're welcome." Torrance accompanied them out, but
returned directly. I picked up the phone and called the morgue. "Mary,"

I said when she answered. "You wouldn't happen to have those reports
ready for the last year?"

"I started it, but got sidetracked. Half-done, though.

You need it soon?"

"As soon as you can get it to me."

"You got it."

Shipley wandered in, stood next to Zim and Mathis by the coffeepot. "Yo,
Torrance, captain's looking for you." Torrance glanced at his watch,
then me. "You gonna be here a few?"

"Yeah, why?"

"I'm not thrilled about you being left alone, after what happened down
in Property." Reid sat on the edge of my desk. "I got a few minutes.

I'll wait till you get back." Torrance nodded, took off.

"Great," I said. "You might as well sign me up for the Federal Witness
Protection plan. I've already got a head start on what it feels like."

"And you're gonna need it," Zim said, moving to my desk. "There's gonna
be a lot of pissed off cops around here, lookin' for someone to blame."

"For what?" I asked.

"For your investigation being the cause of them getting' laid off. Or
didn't you figure out that's why the Hilliards showed up here? They
delivered pink slips to every cop they got workin' security. On the
advice from their attorneys. Conflict of interest." "And I'm somehow
responsible?" Zim picked up a clasp envelope from my desk, Patricia's
autopsy photos. "You are, according to the conversation I overheard
between Dex Kenngard and Torrance." I removed the envelope from his
hands and placed it in my top drawer. "If you're looking for someone to
blame, forget it. I had nothing to do with it."

"Except piss off one of the owners," Zim replied.

"Lay off, Zimwit," Shipley said. "It wasn't her fault."

"Like hell it wasn't."

Mathis opened the door. "Come on, Zim."