Whisper in the Dark (A Thriller) (11 page)

“That may be true, but the man’s wife was one of Vincent’s victims, for godsakes. You do realize this is the one-year anniversary of her murder.”

Surprised, Blackburn glanced at his watch. November 15th. Jesus. He hadn’t even thought of that.

Now Rossbach spoke up. “Considering the conflict of interest, we’d better get her transferred out of there as soon as possible.”

“My thinking exactly,” Escalante said.

“Has anyone asked Dr. Tolan how he feels about this?”

All eyes turned to Sue Carmody. Her question was directed at the entire group, but Blackburn knew it was meant for him. Bitch.

“I haven’t had a chance to tell him,” he said. “We’re meeting as soon as I’m done here.”

“What I’m suggesting is that a conflict of interest doesn’t necessarily preclude Dr. Tolan from working with us on this. Maybe he’d rather stay on board.”

Rossbach snorted. “He’d have to be a friggin’ masochist.”

“Well, I’ve worked with him too,” Carmody said. “Probably more than anyone here. And he once told me that the reason he left private practice and took the job at Baycliff was
because
of what happened to his wife.”

“How so?” Escalante asked.

“He said he wanted to get dirty. Spent too many years listening to neurotics complain about their cheating wives and their overbearing mothers, when what he really should be doing is trying to
stop
people like Vincent before they get started. Said he wanted something good to come from his wife’s murder. I can’t think of anything better than catching her killer.”

The chief assistant district attorney cleared his throat and said, “You’re forgetting the legal implications. If any of this winds up in court, a defense attorney’ll have a field day. He could impeach Tolan in about two seconds flat.”

Carmody shook her head. “I’m not so sure about that. Tolan has a solid reputation. Renowned therapist. Bestselling author.”

“That was
before
his wife was murdered.”

“He’s done some pretty remarkable work since then. I’ve seen it firsthand. And ask any of the ADAs who have called him as a witness. He’s pretty spectacular on the stand. Conflict or not, putting Tolan in a witness chair would likely work to our advantage no matter what some overpaid defense attorney throws at him.”

Several heads around the table nodded, but Rossbach didn’t seem convinced. “I still think it’s a bad idea. Besides, we don’t want to put all our eggs in this one basket. What if this woman never opens up? What then?”

Escalante frowned. “Nobody’s suggesting we put limits on the investigation. I want every possible avenue explored. That’s what you’re here for. But this woman could very well be our only tangible link to Vincent, and I think it behooves us to pursue this angle vigorously.” He looked at Carmody. “Detective, I want you and Blackburn to follow up on this.”

Say what?

Carmody looked just as shocked as Blackburn felt. “Sir?”

“You two were partners before you transferred to Homicide, right?”

“Yes, but—”

“Then it makes sense to partner up again. We need all the help we can get on this. Does that work for you, Detective Blackburn?”

A couple of thoughts raced through Blackburn’s head. It was obvious now that Carmody
wasn’t
boinking Escalante. It was equally obvious that
he
, Frank Blackburn, was one of the few new additions to the task force that Escalante had mentioned.

He hadn’t lost his case after all.

As distasteful as working with a hormonal basket bunny like Carmody might be, if the alternative meant being left out in the cold, he’d gladly take one in the gonads for the department. Besides, being up close and personal again with Miss Wonder Butt’s wonder butt was not entirely objectionable.

“Detective Blackburn? Do you have any problem with that?”

“Uh,” Blackburn said, feeling the heat of Carmody’s gaze on him. He was afraid to look directly at her. “No problem at all.”

“Good,” Escalante said. “I want the two of you to talk to Tolan and try to determine if this conflict is more a hindrance than a help. If you still think he’s the man for the job, then get him back to work on that witness right away. I want to know exactly what she saw.”

Easier said than done, Blackburn thought.

“Did Detective De Mello come up with you?”

Blackburn nodded. “He’s right outside.”

“I understand he’s one of our best background analysts.”

“And resident lard ass,” Ron Worsley murmured. The first words he’d spoken since Blackburn entered the room.

Scattered laughter broke out, but abruptly ended when Escalante shot the offenders a look. He turned his gaze on Blackburn again. “Tell De Mello he’s part of the team. And, lard ass or not, I expect you all to utilize him fully and without remark. Understood?”

Guilty nods around the table.

“Loud and clear,” Blackburn said.

He still didn’t look at Carmody. He could feel her outrage from ten feet away.

17

T
HEY SPENT THE
next several minutes slicing up the investigative pie, Blackburn still reeling from his double dose of luck—good and bad. The task force was split into five two-man field teams. Each team would put the magnifying glass to two of the prior murders, starting from scratch, sifting through the murder books, reinterviewing witnesses, while Blackburn and Carmody concentrated on Janovic and Jane Doe.

After the meeting, Blackburn quickly briefed De Mello, who took the news with a predictable lack of enthusiasm but promised to step up his efforts on the victim’s background and push Billy on cracking the Palm Pilot.

Blackburn told him about the
BOMBSHELL
magazine page sitting on his desk. “Get the ad agency’s name from the fragrance manufacturer and find out who the model is. I can’t be a hundred percent sure it’s our gal, but I like the odds.”

He was thinking about those odds as he headed for the stairs to the parking lot. Just as he reached the stairwell door, Carmody caught up to him.

Oh, goody.

“
You’re
in a hurry.” She was still struggling to contain her rage and he suddenly felt as if he was standing too close to a hornet’s nest.

“I’m meeting with Tolan, remember?”

“Aren’t you forgetting something?”

Blackburn studied her. “And that would be?”

“Your partner,” she said, without even a hint of humor.

He eyed her dully, then opened the door and waved her past him. “After you.”

They were quiet as they descended the steps, Blackburn silently cursing Escalante. When they reached the ground-floor landing, Carmody gestured him to a halt. Her frown was so deep, the muscles in her jaw had to be screaming in agony.

“Let’s get this out in the open right now,” she said. “If we’re going to be working together again, I think we need some ground rules.”

“If?” Blackburn said. “Where in Escalante’s little speech did you hear an ‘if’?”

“Don’t start, Frank. This is exactly the kind of thing that drives me crazy and you know it.”

“What I know is that we’re stuck together whether we like it or not. So let’s just make the best of it, okay?”

“Fine,” Carmody said. “But if you make one crack about my ass or any other part of my anatomy, I swear to God I’ll file papers against you so fast you won’t know which way is up.”

Blackburn stifled a smile, but Carmody caught it.

“What?” she barked. “What’s so funny?”

“Do you ever stop and listen to yourself?”

“What do you mean?”

“You just said ‘crack about my ass.’ Even you’ve gotta admit that’s pretty fuckin’ hilarious.”

Carmody’s face hardened. “You’re emotionally retarded, you know that?”

“I’ve been accused of much worse. But tell me something. If you despise me so goddamn much . . .” He hesitated.

“What?”

“Why the hell did you sleep with me?”

The question was a surprise. Even for Blackburn, who wasn’t quite sure why he’d asked it.

A renewed spark of anger lit Carmody’s eyes—a look Blackburn knew all too well. If he pushed much harder, the nest would burst and there’d be hell to pay.

“I mean it, Frank. Don’t fuck with me. I did you a favor transferring to Homicide without making a fuss. But if you start getting cute again, I will not hesitate to take you down.”

“You didn’t answer the question.”

“And I’m not going to,” she said. “We made a mistake. One I regret and you just can’t seem to let go of. But as far as I’m concerned, that whole conversation is permanently off the table.”

Ouch.

“All right, all right,” Blackburn said. “Don’t get your pretty little panties in a wad. I’m about as happy as you are about this situation, but I promise to behave.”

“I wish I could believe you.”

“If wishes were horses, beggars would ride.”

“What the hell does that mean?”

“My mother used to say it. Mostly around Christmas and birthdays. What it means is that you don’t always get what you want. But I’m making you a promise to be a good little soldier. And in return for that promise, I’m asking you to do me just one favor.”

She studied him dubiously. “What?”

“Loosen the fuck up.”

18

S
HORTLY AFTER HE
got off the phone with Blackburn, there was a knock at Tolan’s door. He jerked in surprise, then immediately felt foolish for allowing it to startle him.

He wasn’t normally the jumpy type. But then this situation wasn’t exactly normal, was it?

There was no mistaking Vincent’s threat.

He wanted Tolan dead.

And when someone as skilled and dangerous as Vincent Van Gogh wants you dead, well . . . It’s usually a matter of where and when.

Tolan stared at the link at the bottom of his computer screen.

ABBY TOLAN

He thought again of the night the police had called him. The shower running behind him, a naked stranger waiting, the sudden shame he’d felt soak into his bones as his cell phone rang.

You. You hurt me.

He hadn’t been asked to identify the body. That’s how bad it was. The killing had been so brutal, so unrelenting, that they’d been forced to confirm Abby’s identity through dental records. She had been found in her studio darkroom, her body in pieces and burned by photo chemicals.

Tolan had never seen the crime scene photos. Hadn’t wanted to. Yet when Vincent had directed him to that link, which he knew would lead him straight to the horror in Abby’s darkroom, he had to admit that he’d been tempted to look.

Only sheer willpower kept him from clicking it.

Another short knock snapped him out of his thoughts. Then the door opened and Lisa stuck her head in.

Tolan immediately closed his laptop.

“You’ve been in here half the morning,” she said. “Some of your patients are getting anxious. Especially Bobby Fremont.”

“Bobby’s always anxious. I really wish you’d be careful around him.”

“He’s not going to hurt me. I’m the only friend he has in this place. And he wants to know why you canceled group.”

“What did you tell him?”

“That you’d explain at this afternoon’s session.”

Tolan nodded. “Assuming there is one.”

She frowned at him. “What’s going on, Michael?”

“I’m expecting Detective Blackburn here within the hour. Can you make sure he gets buzzed in with a minimum of fuss?”

Lisa stepped inside now and closed the door behind her. “Goddamn it, Michael, quit avoiding my questions.”

“I’m not avoiding any—”

“Ever since I started my shift you’ve been acting strange. Is it this new patient?”

“You’ve seen her?”

“No, I’ve been busy. Is there a reason I should?”

Tolan shook his head. “This has nothing to do with her anyway.”

“Then what is it?”

He wasn’t sure why he was holding back. He hadn’t told her about Vincent’s earlier call because he’d wanted to protect her. Keep her from worrying. But that excuse seemed silly now. She was a grown-up, for godsakes, the head nurse at a respected psychiatric unit, and a bigger part of his life than he deserved. If anyone did the protecting, it was her.

Still, he was reluctant to tell her. Not just about the calls, but about Jane Doe Number 314 and everything that had happened this morning. Lisa was the only light in his world right now and he didn’t want any clouds in that particular sky.

“It’s nothing,” he said. “I’m just a little on edge, is all. Got a couple of crank calls.”

“Crank calls? From who? What did they say?”

“Nothing you need to worry about.”

Her face hardened now and he knew he’d just said the wrong thing. But he couldn’t stop himself. “It was probably just some ex-patient trying to irritate me. It’s really not that big of a deal.”

She stared at him, stone-faced. “No big deal, huh?”

“Less than that,” he said. “An annoyance.”

He could see she wasn’t buying it. “So I guess I’m an annoyance too, is that it?”

“Come on, Lisa, that isn’t fair.”

“Fair? I just want you to be straight with me, Michael.”

She was right. If it had been Abby standing there, he wouldn’t have hesitated to tell her the truth. Still, he felt the need to delay the inevitable.

“I’m sorry,” he said. “I’ll fill you in at lunch. I promise.”

She stood there a moment, saying nothing, then opened the door. She was about to step outside when she stopped. “Tell me something, Michael. Do you love me? I mean, do you really care about me?”

Oh, Christ, Tolan thought. Not this, not now. “You know I do.”

“That’s the thing,” she said. “I don’t. You
make
love to me, you’re very good at that. But sometimes I wonder what’s going on in that head of yours. Especially when you’re holding something back.”

He said nothing.

“I’m not here to judge you. I’ve told you that a hundred times. But if this thing we’ve got going isn’t working for you—”

“Lisa, stop. I’m sorry, but I can’t deal with this right now. I’ll tell you everything at lunch.”