Every Move She Makes (35 page)

Torrance took me literally, writing the word "Seeds" on the top left,
over the first vertical row of boxes. Then he put an X in the boxes
beside Ice Man, Mead-Scolari, and Martin/Smith, as well as the one
beside my name. The curse of the deadly seeds. It sounded like a Nancy
Drew mystery tide. "Definite link," he said, standing back to look at
the vertical row of Xs beside each victim. "Okay. What else? Ice Man was
found in the warehouse, so we need the Paolini connection." He wrote
"Paolini/Foust" at the top, over the next vertical row. Paolini got an X

in the Ice Man and Martin/Smith boxes, as well as in my square.

"Scolari," I offered next, though I hated saying it.

Torrance wordlessly added Scolari's name, then poised his marker over
the row of boxes beside the Ice Man. "No. No connection." He hesitated
over the square beside Mead-Scolari's name.

"Yes," I said quietly.

He drew a red X there, then moved down to Martin/Smith.

"Yes.," My name.

I said nothing.

He put an X there as well.

I wanted to tell him to erase the last, that Scolari wouldn't try to
kill me. "Hilliard Pharmaceutical," I said.

"They owned the building."

"A company as a suspect?"

"You have seeds." He waited.

"Okay, Evan Hilliard." He wrote the name at the top. Hilliard got an X

beside Ice Man and Mead-Scolari. "Josephine Hilliard." He added another
row. Again, an X beside Ice Man and Mead-Scolari's name. We stood back
and looked.

"Well," Torrance asked. "What does it tell you?"

"Looks like Scolari won the vote."

"Let's wait for the absentee ballots."

I liked Torrance a lot in that one moment. Even so, I regarded the
vertical row of Xs below Scolari's name. On the off chance he was
guilty, the connection was clear. But what if Paolini was guilty? If so,
I could only connect him to two cases. Ice Man, and Martin and Smith. It
was the seeds that made no sense. What could Paotini want with them? I
stood, looking at all the names. My focus kept returning to Paolini.

"Why would he kill the doctor?"

"Who?"

"Paolini. I mean, I can almost understand him placing a hit on Martin
and Smith, and possibly the Ice Man for the warehouse connection." "But
perhaps that's merely coincidence. How long has it been since Paolini's
organization leased that warehouse? And how long was the body there?" "We
have no way of knowing. The pathologist can only give an estimate of the
length of time the body was dead at the time it was frozen." I paced the
length of his desk, thinking. The key to it all was up there, I was
sure. "The Ice Man," I said, stopping in front of the dry erase board
and tapping the area beside his name. "His case started the ball rolling
when the seeds were found on his corpse. He's the one."

"So you think you can tie Patricia's murder to his, or to Paolini?"

"Not unless we get him identified." I thought of the article Torrance
had pointed out to me in the Chronicle, the same article that seemed to
have gotten Evan Hilliard so upset that afternoon he stormed into
Josephine's office with his newspaper. Why would an announcement of
their merger with the Arkansas-based Montgard Pharmaceutical make him
mad? "Hold on a sec." I picked up the phone and dialed Shipley's desk.

"What's up?" he asked.

"Do me a favor. Get with Missing Persons, have them do a check in
Arkansas, see if they have any missing persons who might match our
frozen John Doe."

"Arkansas?"

"A hunch."

"Okay." That done, I returned my attention back to our list.

"You know that article you showed me this morning in the Chronicle?" I
asked, eyeing the column where "Hilliard" was written, with Xs beside
the Ice Man and Dr. Mead-Scolari rows. "About the merger?" Meeting
Torrance's gaze, I nodded. "I don't know the first thing about
pharmaceutical companies, but I'm thinking that maybe talking with the
Hilliards isn't enough."

"What do you have in mind, Inspector?"

"A search warrant." It took about half an hour to dictate the warrant,
which I gave to Gypsy to transcribe. She knew all the verbiage to put in
between the important stuff regarding what we were looking for:
documents, computer files, anything that showed the doctor may have been
killed due to her research or knowledge in the company, or activities
involving one Nicholas Paolini. Were Mead-Scolari not dead, it might be
more difficult to obtain, especially considering laws on
confidentiality. Of course, finding a prior homicide victim in a
warehouse owned by Hilliard Pharmaceutical helped our case as well,
despite no other connection being noted or known.

In truth, we were going in blind, not having any clue
of what we were looking for. That was often the way with search warrants.

You went in, turned the place upside down, then came out with bits and
pieces you hoped would materialize into evidence of significance. Gypsy
handed us the transcribed warrant a little over two hours later. My
intention was to "walk the warrant through," which meant skipping the
usual routine of having the documents reviewed by the DNS office first,
instead taking it straight to a judge for a signature. Hoping to avoid
running into anyone, particularly from the DA's office, Torrance and I
took the stairs to the second floor. When we exited the stairwell, I
saw my ex at the opposite end of the hall, his back to us, in private
conversation with a dark-haired woman of short stature, wearing a yellow
business suit. Reid glanced around, and I caught a glimpse of the
woman's face. When he leaned down and kissed her, I bristled.

Beth Skyler. Channil Two News.

Suddenly my missed Napa trip came to mind, calling Reid that morning at
his hotel room, hearing her voice, and him telling me he was watching
the news.

Skyler did the evening news only.

"That son of a bitch," I whispered. A moment later Reid and Skyler
took off in separate directions. I moved back into the stairwell, not
wanting to be seen. Torrance remained where he was, regarding me
intently. "I thought it was over between you."

"It is."

"Really?" He started toward the judge's chambers.

"We better get this signed."

"It's not what you think," I said, catching up to him.

He waited for me to clue him in.

"The night that Patricia was killed, I was pretty sure someone leaked
her murder to the press."

"How did you come to that conclusion?"

"By the questions Skyler was asking me. Things we wouldn't have
released. You read the article the next day, saw the news. You can draw
your own conclusions from what you saw."

"What would be his motivation?"

"Politics? Sex? Money? With Reid, who knows." We turned the corner,
enroute to the judge's chambers, and ran straight into Reid. He acted
cool toward me, speaking only with Torrance. "The DA's on my butt, Mike,"

he said. "Wants to know how soon we're gonna wrap this thing up." "The
crystal ball's in the repair shop, Bettencourt," Torrance said, guiding
me on toward the judge's chambers, holding the door open for me. I
passed through, since I had the warrant. He stayed behind to continue
his conversation with Reid, a stalling tactic, since neither of us
wanted him to know we had a search warrant. The way Reid was eyeing me,
however, gave me the feeling that Torrance's efforts would be wasted.

Once Reid found out, we couldn't exactly tell him to back off. Not when
he was assigned to the task force. There was also the little matter of
bypassing the DA's office in preparing the warrant. In a high-profile case
such as this, feathers would be more than ruffled. I hoped to see judge
Gehrhardt, but was shown to judge Earling's chambers instead. Earling
was notorious for doing things by the book. He wore wire-rimmed
spectacles and was still dressed in his black judge's robe. All he
needed was a powdered wig covering his already white hair to complete
the effect of a nineteenth century hanging judge. Judge Earling's
problem was that he was hanging the wrong people. Word on the street had
it that if you were guilty, you wanted Earling and no jury.

Cops avoided him like stale doughnuts dunked in sour milk.

"DA go over this?" he asked, scratching his gray goatee while he pored
over the first page.

"Uh, no, Your Honor. We have a bit of a time dilemma."

"Hmm, wouldn't think you'd take a chance in a case like this." He turned
the second page, running his finger down the lines of legal prose,
rapidly mumbling the words written so that he sounded something like an
auctioneer without a microphone. "Everything looks okay so far. You've
verified the address and such?" "Yes, sir," I said, just as his gaze
strayed past me. I hoped whoever he was looking at was Torrance by him
"Ah, Reid Bettencourt," the judge said, looking over the top of his
spectacles. "I understand you're on the task force. Your boss let you
pass a warrant through without reading it first?" Reid gave Torrance a
dark look. "What warrant?" Judge Earling flipped back to the first page
as though to refresh his memory on what he was reading. "To Hilliard
Pharmaceutical regarding the Mead-Scolari matter." I stared straight at
the warrant, avoiding Reid's gaze completely. if judge Earling wanted to
be his typical stubborn self, he could refuse to sign it, thereby
forcing us to go through the DNS office. That spelled another delay,
undoubtedly until tomorrow. "I'm certain Lieutenant Andrews called the
DA's office about this," I said. "In fact, I naturally assumed that's why
Investigator Bettencourt was down here because the DA sent him." Now it
was up to Reid. He could be a jerk, tell Earling I was full of it, or go
along, then take us for whatever we had outside the door. And if he did,
I was going to hang him for his tete--tete with Skyler. Ah, what the
hell, I'd do it now. I met Reid's gaze and smiled sweetly while Torrance
regarded us. When the judge wasn't looking, I mouthed two words to Reid.

Beth Skyler. I could almost see his wheels turning. Several seconds of
silence, as his expression told me, You'llpay, somehow; then, "Yes, Your
Honor." "Very well." The judge finished reading, signed his name, had me
initial a minor change regarding the date being wrong on the fifth page,
and we were off. "I can't believe you did this," Reid said as we strode
down the hall to the elevators. "You drew up a warrant without informing
the task force?" He stopped and wedged his way around us, blocking the
UP button. We were to meet Markowski and Shipley in Homicide, then head
straight for Hilliard Pharmaceutical. It was a low-risk warrant, no SWAT

team, since Hilliard Pharmaceutical was considered a safe business and
there was very little chance of our being shot upon entry. I only hoped
it stayed that way once we found whatever it was we were looking for.

Not that we didn't take precautions. First, however, I intended to
confront my ex. "So, how long have you and the Channel Two newsgirl been
dating? Certainly not before the Napa trip?" I didn't mention the leak
for the simple reason I was saving that trump card.

"Kiss MY

"Enough." Torrance stepped between us. "I demand to know why I wasn't
included in this warrant." Reid's face started turning red. He was
ticked.