Thicker Than Water (9 page)

While she had his full attention, she said, “Of course. Who do you think is responsible for this, Senator?”

He was surprised. She'd slid the real question right on the heels of the mundane, boring one and nailed him with it. He replied before he could censure himself. “I only wish I knew.”

Then, licking his lips, he let one of his aides hustle him away from the microphone, with the press still shouting questions.

Chief Strong, a burly man with a salt-and-pepper crew cut and a face like granite, stepped up to the podium, holding up his hands for silence. “The Syracuse Police Department have several strong leads in this investigation, which is being headed up by Lieutenant Cassandra Jackson. We are not releasing any details regarding cause of death at this time. To do so could impede and hamper the investigation. We will keep the press fully informed, so long as you all cooperate with us in our efforts. Thank you.”

“Do you have any suspects?” someone shouted.

He turned to give a reply that was not an answer. Sean kept taping, but as he did, he noticed one of the uniformed cops from last night sidling up to Julie, tapping her shoulder, and speaking near her ear. She nodded at him, then glanced back at Sean and crooked her finger. He put the camera back on her.

“There you have it, the official statement from Senator Blackwood, requesting privacy for his family to grieve this tragic loss. Chief Strong is playing this one very close to the vest—but if doing so will help catch a killer, then News-Four applauds him in that decision.”

Sean scowled over the camera at her and then made kissing-up lips at her.

“One thing is obvious from what Chief Strong had to say here, and that is that this case is being treated as a homicide investigation. Lieutenant Jackson, named by the chief as the detective heading up this investigation, is one of the Syracuse P.D.'s top homicide detectives. We'll have more on this as the story develops. This is Julie Jones for News-Channel Four.”

Sean flicked off the camera and lowered it from his shoulder. “Not kissing up to the Police Department or anything, are we?”

She said, “I figured it couldn't hurt. They want to see us both inside.”

“Now?”

She nodded, turned and led the way back through the crowd, around to a side entrance, where a uniformed cop waited to take them inside. He paused at a reception desk. “You can leave the camera here,” he told Sean.

Sean lifted his brows but complied. Then they were taken
into an interrogation room, where Lieutenant Jackson waited. She sat at a table, wearing a pair of shapeless navy-blue slacks and a white button-down blouse. A blazer hung over the back of the wooden chair, and she got up when they walked in. Her hair, long and butterscotch-blond, was pulled back into a ponytail, and she wore no makeup. How the hell a woman could dress that blandly and look that good was beyond Sean, but he did enjoy her. She was a good cop, an honest one, and she didn't hate his guts, always a quality he admired in a woman.

Jax smiled very slightly at Sean; then her eyes met Julie's and turned chilly. She cleared her throat. “Sit. This won't take long.”

Jones sat. So did Jax. Sean stayed standing, interested in the slight animosity he sensed between the two women. He hadn't noticed it before and wondered about it.

“I assume you can both make a pretty fair guess at the cause of death in the Blackwood case, being that you were there when it happened,” Jax said.

“After it happened,” Jones corrected, maybe a little too quickly.

“That's what I meant.”

Sean didn't think that was what she'd meant at all. Especially if the way she'd been watching Jones's face as she'd said it was any indication.

“Just what is it you want, Lieutenant Jackson?” Jones asked.

The cop frowned. “Your cooperation. I want you to keep the cause of death to yourselves. Say nothing about the crime scene. Not even little hints like the one you just dropped on the air, Ms. Jones, about how gruesome it was.”

Julie seemed to be thinking that over. “Can I ask why?”

“Because only a handful of people outside the police know
the details. You two, the hotel employee who found the body—and the killer.”

Sean nodded. “I get it. You'll be able to rule out false confessions by nutcases who don't guess right on how Blackwood was killed. I think my partner and I would be glad to make you that promise, Jax, but we'd really like something in return.”

He saw Jones flinch and grimace a little when he called the woman by her nickname.

“Why am I not surprised? You always want something in return, Sean.”

“Oh, come on, I'm not demanding a date.”

“Not this time, anyway.” The lieutenant, smiling a little, lowered her sky-blue eyes, and shook her head. “There's nothing I can release just yet, Sean.”

“You have any suspects?” Sean asked.

“Everyone Harry knew is a suspect.”

“But you've narrowed it down.”

The lieutenant nodded. “Yes.”

“To?”

Jax looked from one of them to the other. “You didn't release the name last night, even though you knew who he was. You haven't mentioned the cause of death. So far, you've kept your word. You can't release this tidbit, either, not until I give you the okay. Agreed?”

“Agreed,” Sean said. He glanced at Julie, but instead of sitting on the edge of her seat in glee, she looked pale, a little pinched around the mouth. Almost scared.

“We think it was a woman.”

Sean was still looking at Julie when Jax said that, but he could see both women, and he knew Jax was watching
Jones like a hawk watching a wounded rabbit. He thought Jones flinched and hoped the hell the lieutenant hadn't noticed.

“What makes you think so?” he asked Jackson.

“We found some makeup in the bathroom. I can't say any more than that.”

Jones closed her eyes, but only very briefly. To Sean, her body language said “Oh, shit,” but aloud she said nothing, and he doubted Jax was picking up her subtle signals as clearly as he was—and then wondered why he was so tuned in.

“Keep your promise,” Jax warned. “Quite frankly, News-Four is the only station in town that hasn't burned us. We'll work with you if you keep it that way.”

“Not so much because you like us as to teach the others a lesson?”

“You're a sharp one, MacKenzie. Just don't let it go to your head.” Jax glanced at Jones. “You all right? You look a little pale.”

“Yeah. I just—It was quite a scene last night. I'm still not over it.”

“Understandable.” The lieutenant got to her feet. “Best get her out of here, MacKenzie. And remember what you agreed to here.”

“Will do.” Sean slid a protective arm around Julie, drawing her to her feet as if she were the poor, traumatized little female and he the big strong protective male.

That was all it took. Her head came up fast, and she snapped right the hell out of her little daze. “I'm fine,” she snapped. “And not in need of help, Lieutenant, though your concern is touching.”

With that, she headed for the door under her own steam,
yanked it open and started down the hall. Sean caught up to her after retrieving the camera from the reception desk. “Hey, someone set your shoes on fire or what?”

“I just want to get out of here.” She stalked to the SUV and didn't even try to get behind the wheel.

Sean set the camera in the back seat, then got in beside her. “What's wrong? What did she say in there that knocked you on your ass like that?”

“Nothing. Nothing knocked me anywhere. I'm fine.”

“To hell you are. You didn't even remember to pop in on Officer Friendly to ask if he found your car keys.”

She dug in her blazer pocket, pulled out a gold key-ring shaped like a pair of
J
's and let the keys dangle from it. They were labeled. There was the magnetic strip that unlocked the doors at the station, a key marked “car,” another marked “office,” another marked “files.”

“He gave them to me when he told me about our invitation to see the token female,” she said.

“Me-
ow.
” She scowled, but Sean wasn't going to let that remark go. “Jax is no token, she's a damn good cop. And it wouldn't hurt you any to treat her a little better. She can be a reporter's best friend.”

“Oh, is that what she is? Your best friend?”

He gaped, totally thrown by this side of Jones and at a loss for words.

“Screw it,” she said. “At least I got my keys back. The officer said someone turned them in at the hotel's front desk. Which doesn't make a hell of a lot of sense, but at least they're—oh, shit!”

“What?” He glanced at her, saw her staring at the keys, her eyes wider than they had been two seconds ago.
“What?”

She swallowed hard. “The keys to my house. They're missing.”

* * *

Cassie Jackson frowned at the note she found on the windshield of her unmarked Crown Victoria when she came out of the Dinosaur Bar-b-que Grille. She'd left work after the press conference for lunch with some of the guys from the homicide division. Not that they were goofing off, just that they knew damned well they would be heading right back for a long day's work on this damned Blackwood murder and might very well miss dinner. They all said they would work better on full stomachs, and the chief hadn't argued. The Dinosaur was a local favorite, as noted for its long lines as for its mouthwatering ribs. For the local peace officers, though, the owners were willing to work a little harder. She and the boys managed to get in, get served and get out again in under an hour, so it was only around one when she hit the parking lot and saw from a distance the note under the windshield wiper of her car.

The sight of it, one corner flapping like the wing of a marooned dove, kicked Cassie into full cop mode without passing go. She stopped in her tracks and scanned the parking lot, looking for stragglers, watchers, anyone who shouldn't be there. But there was no one standing around, and all the cars she saw were either coming, going or empty. No one was sitting in a parked vehicle to observe her.

She walked carefully to the car, one hand on the nine millimeter's grip, though she didn't pull it from its shoulder holster. She bent to look underneath, checked inside, the back
seat, around and behind the car. No one. Finally she leaned over without touching the hood, nipped the corner of the sheet with the very tips of her fingernails and used her free hand, covered by the edge of her sleeve, to lift the wiper blade. The sheet came free without smudging any prints that might be on it. She scanned it, read the words written in pencil, in carefully formed block letters.

Jax sighed, then caught sight of one of her colleagues, Detective Hennesey, just getting into his car across the parking lot. She shouted his name. He glanced her way and frowned. She said, “Bring an evidence bag over here.” He nodded, and a second later came jogging across the lot.

“Got an anonymous tip telling us where to find the murder weapon,” she said, holding up the note.

His thick red eyebrows rose, and he looked at the sheet she still held by one corner. Quickly he opened the evidence bag and held it while she lowered the note into it. “You think it's legit?” he asked as he sealed and labeled the bag.

“Got the cause of death right.” She glanced at her car. “We should keep the car clean until it can be dusted for prints, though I doubt this joker was stupid enough to leave any. Still, you never know.”

“I can stay with it. You can take mine back.”

She nodded. “Thanks, Hennesey. The team should be here in fifteen, tops.”

He nodded. “No problem. I got a doggy bag, in case I get
bored.” He patted his coat pocket and wiggled his eyebrows. Then he tossed her his keys.

Cassie called in the moment she was behind the wheel of Hennesey's car and had the seat adjusted for her considerably shorter legs, and asked for a team to come out and go over her car, then read off the address from the note and asked for a trace. It took only a couple of seconds before the reply came back.

“108 Lake Road is the residence of one Julie Jones, Lieutenant.”

Cassie blinked slowly. “Well, I'll be damned.” Not only had she been at the scene of the crime, where a female had left a tube of mascara behind, but she had given someone a reason to implicate her. She keyed the mic. “Do we have the elevator surveillance tapes yet?”

“Yes, ma'am.”

“Have someone get them cued up and ready to view for me, will you? And I'd like a look at Julie Jones's bank records, while we're at it.”

“I'll pass it along.”

She pursed her lips and drove Hennesey's car back to the station.