Читать книгу Falling For Him - Morgan Hayes - Страница 10

“CLAUDIA, WAIT.” Gavin put his hand on her shoulder and spun her around to face him.

Almost immediately he regretted doing so. The second she lifted her gaze to meet his, Gavin felt as though the corridor had suddenly become too narrow. She stood close enough that he caught the residual traces of her perfume. He’d smelled it in the car, as well—something seductively intimate, with the slightest hint of jasmine. But at least while driving, he hadn’t been challenged by the added allure of staring directly into those captivating gray-green eyes.

Those same eyes had caught him by surprise when she’d first looked at him, back at headquarters. Sure, he’d studied the photo in her file: he’d stared at it for the past five weeks—a newspaper clipping taken from the Baltimore Sun two years ago when she’d been presented with the Maryland Officer of the Year award.

The faded black-and-white photo hadn’t done justice to the vibrant golden highlights in her hair or the glow of her perfect skin. But in the picture, Claudia had been smiling, and in the weeks he had studied her file, Gavin had imagined seeing that lush smile in person. Instead, there was concern on her face; it furrowed lines across her forehead and tightened her mouth as she gazed up at him.

“What is it?” she asked.

“This guy Silver. You know him?”

“I told you, yes.”

“Well, maybe you shouldn’t be here then.”

“If it’s a conflict of interest you’re worried about, Gavin, forget it. I met the man a couple of times, but haven’t seen him since January. He was an acquaintance at best.”

Gavin wondered if the subtle twitch at the corner of her right eye indicated a lie. “You’re sure about this?”

“I’m sure. Now are you coming in or do I have to conduct your investigation?”

She slipped her arm from his grasp, and her trench coat whirled in the air behind her as she turned once more. Gavin watched her and wondered how it was that someone who stood barely five foot five in heels could command such presence.

It shouldn’t have surprised him though, he thought. After all, her file was chock-full of commendations and an endless stream of laudatory reviews from her sergeants, past and present. And besides the award, there had been the bronze star four years ago. Gavin had been impressed from the moment his lieutenant had handed him her file back in the Internal Affairs offices.

“Okay, guys, what have we got?” Claudia’s voice interrupted his thoughts.

He watched her pull a notepad and pen from her pocket and then just as quickly shove them back in, obviously remembering her role as the secondary detective on the scene.

“This is Detective Monaghan.” She gestured an introduction. “He’s the primary, so any details you’ve got go to him.”

She wasn’t liking this one bit, Gavin decided. It wasn’t her case, she wasn’t in control, and she hated that fact. Frustration appeared to stiffen her stance.

But when she stood over the victim, Claudia’s expression softened. In his years on patrol, then in Narcotics and finally Internal Affairs, Gavin had seen his share of violent deaths. It struck him now, however, that he’d never worked one with a woman. As Claudia studied the body of James Silver, a look of compassion seemed to wash over her face. It was a look rarely seen on the faces of seasoned detectives, and Gavin couldn’t help wondering if there was, in fact, more to her relationship with Silver than she’d admitted.

She hadn’t clarified the context in which she knew the private investigator. And then, as Gavin scanned the PI’s office, he saw the Baltimore Police cap on one bookshelf and the framed academy diploma on the wall.

He joined her, lowering his voice to a whisper. “Tell me how you know this guy.”

“This isn’t the time, Gavin.” Her response was barely audible, her focus never leaving the body crumpled in the corner amid a scattering of files.

“He was a cop. Did you work with him?”

She didn’t respond.

“Because if you worked with him, you know Sarge will have to take you off—”

She turned on him, a flare of impatience in her eyes as her whisper sharpened. “I told you, I hardly knew him. Now, are you going to take charge here, or do I have to?”

“Fine.” He withdrew his own notebook from his pocket, flipped to a fresh page and clicked his pen. “I want you to start by getting the report from the responding officer, and then arrange for an initial canvass of the area. After that, I need you to interview the custodial staff. Talk to whoever found him, see what they know about his hours, if they saw or heard anything. Do you think you can handle that, Detective Parrish?”

It was clear Claudia hadn’t expected him to take such swift authority. She stared at him for a moment, and Gavin wondered if it was a smile that tugged at the corner of her lips instead of the indignation he’d expected.

Then she gave him a subtle nod. “That’s more like it, Detective Monaghan.”

THE MEDICAL EXAMINER HAD removed Silver’s body at six o’clock, and by seven the crime-scene technicians appeared to have breakfast in mind as they hurried to wrap up their work. She and Gavin had been on the scene for close to two hours now, and throughout Claudia had watched him. She couldn’t deny that she was impressed.

Gavin’s command of the scene had been almost immediate. As Claudia had spoken to the responding officer and waited for him to write up his report, Gavin had stood over Silver’s body for the longest time, both hands buried deep in the pockets of his trench coat. At first, Claudia had wondered if perhaps he’d forgotten his past work. Then she’d seen how carefully his gaze scrutinized the area, locking on details, assessing the surroundings, studying the position and condition of the body, until he’d finally moved on to talk to the ME at length.

Obviously a one-year stint chauffeuring the brass around had not robbed him of his experience. The investigation was in capable hands. And yet, if there had been any way for her to take the case, Claudia would have jumped at the opportunity.

From the moment she’d heard James Silver’s name, she’d wanted this one. She hadn’t lied to Gavin about knowing James Silver, about meeting him. It had been only twice, but Silver had been more than the “acquaintance” she’d told Gavin he was. He’d been a good friend of Frank’s, and his partner on patrol years ago in the Eastern District. It had been a decade since Silver had worn a uniform, yet his friendship with Frank had remained loyal.

She knew enough about James Silver to know he’d been a good man, a good cop, and a good friend to Frank. So good, that he was the one person who may never have been convinced by the evidence indicating Frank’s suicide. She hadn’t spoken with Silver since three weeks after Frank’s death. It had been a brief phone call, and they’d done nothing but argue: Claudia explaining the evidence, and Silver determined to dispute it.

Seeing Silver now—shot dead in his own office, lying behind his desk, his chair toppled, and his files and drawers rifled through as though his death was only an inconsequential result of a burglary gone awry—Claudia regretted that last contact with the PI.

Maybe she should have listened to his theories. But at the time, she’d been attempting to resign herself to the truth and come to terms with her loss of Frank. Silver’s disbelief had been more than she’d been able to bear. Now she would always wonder what theories Silver had concerning Frank’s death. And she would wonder if he’d ever given up.

“How’s the canvass going?” Gavin came to her side, flipping his notebook closed and lifting a hand to loosen his tie a notch.

“Nothing yet. Half the row homes across the street are vacant. And with the few that aren’t, it’s not looking as if anyone heard anything. We’ve got officers still knocking on doors, but I wouldn’t hold your breath.”

He nodded to where Silver’s body had lain. “So what do you think?”

“I’m sorry, Detective, that’s not how this works. You’re the primary. What do you think?”

He contemplated the scene again before speaking. “Well, I’d have to say that he was most likely seated at his desk when his attacker arrived. Perpetrator came through the door, probably already had his gun out, and fired as soon as Silver looked up. One bullet caught him in the left shoulder, and the second took him in the chest as he started to stand. Considering Silver’s background as a cop, he either knew his assailant and was surprised, or the shots were fired rapidly, giving him no time to take cover or return fire. His own weapon is still in his desk drawer.

“As for the disarray of the office,” Gavin went on, “it has the appearance of a random burglary, but my gut feeling is that our perpetrator was looking for something specific. Then again, until I find out what kind of stickler Silver was for organization, I can’t rule out the fact that some of this might be the usual state of his office. It doesn’t help that he didn’t have a secretary. Even if something was missing, we’re not likely to know about it.”

“You got a real whodunit here, Detective Monaghan,” Claudia told him, scanning the office again, hoping she’d missed some obscure yet crucial clue. “Hardly the kind of case you’d want to start with, I’d say.”

“What are you suggesting? That I can’t handle it? That I should give this case over to you and wait for the next one?”

Claudia shrugged casually. If she appeared too eager to take over his investigation, he was sure to balk. “All I’m saying is that for your first homicide in this city—your first case on the board—you’re better off with one that’s going to go down. This…I don’t know. It could be a tough one. You’ve got a dead PI. A former cop. He probably has a list of enemies longer than your arm, not to mention the fact that you’ve got zero witnesses so far.”

She dared to glance up then. Was it amusement she saw sparkle in those dark eyes?

“You really want this case, don’t you?”

“Not necessarily,” she lied. “It’s just probably not the ideal case to get your feet wet.”

His smile broadened. “Well, why don’t you let me worry about my own feet, okay?”

“Claudia.” Lori Tobin called to her, and Claudia was grateful for the interruption. She wasn’t sure how long she would have been able to hold Gavin’s penetrating stare.

She turned as Lori crossed the office to join them. The younger woman snapped off a pair of latex gloves and wadded them into one hand. She tucked a stray wisp from her dark ponytail behind one ear.

“How are you doing, Claudia?” As usual with Lori, the question was more than simple courtesy. Her sincerity and concern was punctuated with a hand on Claudia’s arm. The gesture reminded Claudia of that night ten months ago.

Lori had guided Claudia from Frank’s bedroom to the living room and then consoled her. She had even phoned a couple of times to check on her afterward. In fact, Claudia had almost admitted the truth about her relationship with Frank to Lori. In the end, though, she’d remained silent.

“Looks like you’ve got an interesting one here,” Lori said. “So far we’re not coming up with anything useful. We’ll probably need another hour, but I didn’t know if you wanted us to box up all the files and paperwork, as well.”

“No, we’ll take a look at everything here before—”

Gavin cleared his throat behind her.

“Actually,” Claudia corrected, “since this is Detective Monaghan’s investigation, you should ask him. I doubt you two have met. Lori Tobin, Gavin Monaghan.”

Claudia watched the technician’s face brighten somewhat as she gazed past Claudia’s shoulder and up at Gavin.

“So you’ve finally got yourself a partner.”

“It would appear that way,” Claudia answered.

“Good to meet you,” Gavin offered in his smooth voice as he shook the technician’s hand. “And I think Detective Parrish’s suggestion is fine. We’ll look through the files here and submit the relevant material ourselves.”

“Very good.” Lori nodded, and Claudia couldn’t help noticing how the woman’s gaze lingered on Gavin for a moment before she turned back to her work.

“So what now?” Gavin asked.

“Now? Now I suggest we head down to Jimmy’s for coffee and a bite to eat. We’re only going to be in the way here, and I don’t know about you, but I’m not willing to wade through any of this paperwork until I’ve had a good kick of caffeine. The techs will seal the office when they’re done, and then we can go through this mess and figure out just who might have wanted James Silver dead.”

JIMMY’S WAS CROWDED as usual. To Claudia, there seemed no rhyme nor reason behind the high demand for tables at the greasy spoon down on the waterfront in Fells Point, but without fail, seating was scarce. It had to be the coffee, she thought as she took another sip. It certainly couldn’t be the food.

Across the table of the window booth they shared, Gavin was finishing his own breakfast. Claudia watched him spear another piece of omelette and fought back the urge to reach across with her fork to sample some. She’d have done exactly that, a year ago, when it would’ve been Frank sitting with her. And, while she did that, he would have been stealing her last slice of bacon.

As usual, she tried to clamp down on the nostalgia.

“So you met James Silver only a couple times?” Gavin had asked the question already once after she’d explained Frank’s connection to the dead PI. Even so, a glimmer of suspicion wavered in his voice as he studied her over the rim of his juice glass.

“That’s right,” she assured him again. “What? You think I’d lie about something like that? Why would I?”

“Maybe so you could stay on the case?”

“Please. Give me a little credit for professionalism. I understand what conflict of interest is. If I had actually been friends with Silver, I’d remove myself from the case, all right?”

“All right.” The defensiveness in his voice attested to the bite she’d heard in her own, and immediately Claudia regretted her harshness.

“I’m sorry. I don’t mean to snap. It’s just…I’ve had a long twenty-four hours, you know?”

“Sure.”

Gavin reached across the table and snagged her last piece of bacon on the end of his fork. Speechless, she watched him take one bite and then pop the rest into his mouth. For ten months, she’d been returning to Jimmy’s for breakfast, and for ten months, she’d always left that last slice of bacon. Until this morning no one had touched it.

He must have seen her surprise because he said, “Oh, I’m sorry. Were you saving that?”

“Not at all.”

He nodded, finishing the bacon. “Look, you’re right. It’s been a long twenty-four hours for you. Maybe you should just call it a day. I can look through Silver’s files myself and—”

“No way.” She took another swig of coffee. “You’re not getting rid of me that easy. I’m still among the living. Another cup of coffee and I’m good to go. We’ll head back and check out Silver’s office, see if we can figure out what cases he’d been working on these past few days, who he’s been talking to, and who he may have ticked off.”

“Honestly, Claudia, I can handle it.”

“It’ll take us half the time working together. Besides, I have the next couple days off. After this, I’ve got a twelve-hour power nap scheduled, followed by a full-night’s sleep.” She flagged down the waitress for one more refill and the check. “Besides, I could use some work to help me forget yesterday.”

Gavin nodded. “I heard about the Brown case.”

Of course he had heard. By now the entire unit would know about her case being thrown out of court.

“Yeah. Lamont Brown.” Closing her eyes briefly, Claudia massaged the bridge of her nose. She was tired, and if it wasn’t for her personal interest in Silver’s murder, she would take Gavin up on his offer and go home right now.

“I heard the judge dismissed for lack of evidence.”

Claudia nodded. “I shouldn’t let it bother me. It was just another drug-related shooting, you know? So what if Brown walks on this one? He’s a punk. In no time he’ll be back, clogging up the system, arrested on some other charge. He’ll do his time eventually.”

“You’d just hoped it would be your charge that put him away, right? Hey, you don’t have to explain to me. I understand.”

When she looked across to Gavin, she met his reassuring smile. It was the kind of don’t-let-the-bad-guys-get-you-down expression Frank would have given her, and at that moment, Claudia hated that Gavin reminded her of him, that their working relationship—so new—had already begun to take on nuances of what she’d had with Frank as a partner.

She blinked. Again forcing back the unwanted memories.

“Of course it would’ve been nice if my charge had been the one to put Brown away,” she said, trying to stay focused on the conversation. “I put a lot of time into that case, piecing it together, interviewing dozens of witnesses, preparing the reports. Only to have it all thrown out because the murder weapon went missing. That gun was on the scene. I pointed it out to the techs. Heck, I even saw them bag it, and then I saw it down at Evidence Control myself. But somewhere between me and the lab, that gun must have grown legs and walked off on its own, because it was never seen again. I had Lori turn the place upside down trying to find it.”

“And they hadn’t run any tests on it before it disappeared?”

“No ballistics. No fingerprints. Nothing. They hadn’t gotten a chance before it went missing. And now it’s as if that gun never existed except in the crime-scene photos. It’s my own fault.”

“How is it your fault?”

Claudia shrugged. “I should have walked the gun down to the lab myself. I should have watched them run the tests I needed.”

“That’s not your job, Claudia.”

“No, but it’s my job to see that the investigation is run properly, that witnesses and suspects…and especially evidence is handled correctly. And in this case, it wasn’t. So, instead of a smoking gun with the suspect’s prints all over it, we got zilch. It falls on me. Doesn’t make me look too good. Not to mention the fact that the state’s attorney is all over me with accusations.”

“Accusations?”

She’d said more than she should have. Even to Tony—with whom she’d worked for three years—Claudia hadn’t revealed as much about the Brown case, nor had she mentioned the state’s attorney’s threats.

But for some reason, with Gavin Monaghan, Claudia felt more willing to discuss yesterday’s proceedings at the courthouse. Maybe she was tired, she thought as she stared at him across the Formica-topped table. Or maybe it was Gavin’s eyes. Something about him made her want to trust, even though trusting had never come naturally to her.

“It’s probably nothing,” she said, trying to minimize its importance.

“Come on, Claudia, accusations from the State’s Attorney Office aren’t generally ‘nothing.”’

“It was just a warning really. After the judge dismissed it, the state’s attorney pulled me aside and basically implied that if it weren’t for my otherwise flawless record, the office would suspect me of getting rid of the gun for a bribe, and they’d be looking to accuse me of evidence tampering.”

Gavin seemed to consider her revelation for a moment before responding. “Well, I wouldn’t let it get to you. It happens to the best of us,” he offered, calmly wiping his mouth and tossing his napkin onto his empty plate.

“It doesn’t happen to me. I mean, maybe that sounds arrogant, but as much work and precision as I put into the Brown case—all my cases—well, that gun going missing…it shouldn’t have happened. It’s a sign of sloppy police work. Bottom line.”

“So is that how you explain what happened to your partner then? Seems he had a similar problem with evidence ‘growing legs.’ Are you saying that was sloppy detective work?”

Maybe ten months of grieving had drained most of the fight out of her. Maybe, after finally believing that Frank had taken his own life, Claudia no longer felt as strong an impulse to jump to his defense. Or maybe it was just something about Gavin. Because instead of the usual surge of resentment that a comment like his would have normally spurred within her, Claudia found herself able to bite her tongue and respond calmly.

“Frank was never sloppy.”

“Fine. But he did have more than one case thrown out when evidence went missing, correct?”

Claudia studied Gavin. Was he attacking Frank’s reputation or simply using it as an argument to defend hers?

“You seem to know a lot about a unit you’ve only just joined, Detective,” she said.

“I hear rumors.”

“Oh yeah? What kinds of rumors?”

“Both sides,” he explained as he leaned back from the table. “For instance, you’ve got some who say your partner folded under the pressure of that whole IAD investigation. And then you’ve got others—fewer, mind you—who still think maybe he knew too much and was silenced because of it.”

“And which theory do you favor?”

She watched Gavin take his wallet from his back pocket and toss two fives onto the table.

“I don’t know,” he said, meeting her gaze. “I worked Homicide in D.C. I know it’s tough—the responsibility, the pressure, the expectations from your fellow detectives, your sergeant, the State’s Attorney Office. Not to mention the kinds of cases and suspects you deal with on a daily basis. But still, by the time a cop makes his…or her way to the level of Homicide, you figure that most of the weak ones have been weeded out. Face it, the burn-out rate in this job is high, but for the guys in Homicide? I think it takes more than an IAD probe to push someone over the edge once they’ve achieved those ranks.”

Claudia scrutinized Gavin, wishing the twitch of suspicion would leave her. It was breakfast conversation, she tried to reason; two detectives having coffee, new partners getting to know each other, that was all.

Why then did she get the feeling Gavin was on a fishing expedition?

“So based on that assessment,” she asked at last, “you’re suggesting it’s more likely someone killed Frank?”

“I’m not suggesting anything. After all, why should I have an opinion? I never met the man. You’re the one who was closest to him, being his partner. What do you think happened?”

But Claudia was already pulling money from her wallet. This was not a conversation she intended to pursue with Gavin Monaghan, or anyone else for that matter. Especially today.

“I think either way it’s history,” she replied briskly, hearing the sharp tone of defensiveness in her own voice as she tossed down her five and picked up one of his. She handed him the bill and reached for her coat. “And right now, Detective, we’ve got a fresh homicide to develop our own theories on.”