I returned the file to its place with the others, remembering what Nick had said about Joey having a big shadow to walk in. Maybe this was Joey’s way of trying to one-up Nick’s old partner, by learning as much as he could about him. Whatever rivalry was brewing between them, I didn’t have time to concern myself with it now.
I slid the drawer closed and returned the keys to Joey’s jacket. If Joey Balafonte had any secrets, he wasn’t keeping them in here.
My phone vibrated. I slipped off a mitten to check Vero’s text.
Vero:Tow truck.
Finlay:???
Vero:Your code word if you need an emergency extraction.
Finlay:Very funny.
Vero:Find anything?
Finlay: Noth…
I paused, my fingers hovering over my screen. I thumbed off my phone and returned it to my pocket, reaching for the file on Joey’s desk. It was the same one he’d tried to push on Nick in the kitchen.
Curious, I used my mittens to open it. The five toxicology reports inside had been ordered by Ekatarina Rybakov, Feliks’s attorney. Each report corresponded to an autopsy. Four of the victims had died from gunshot wounds to the head. The fifth had been a victim of carbon monoxide poisoning. A chill drew up my spine as I read the positive findings on the tox screens, recalling what Joey had started to tell Nick in the kitchen.
… four of the victims had traces of weed, opioids, coke… the usual suspects. But vic number five—
Victim number five had tested positive for ketamine.
I didn’t have to read the victim’s name. I already knew it. Because I had been the one who’d roofied him. It was Harris Mickler, Feliks’s accountant, the very first body Vero and I had ever buried after I’d discovered his corpse in my minivan.
No. No, no, no, no.
Feliks’s trial was starting in a matter of weeks. What was Kat planning to do with this?
I stiffened at the sound of footsteps approaching in the hall.
Shit, shit, shit!My hands shook in my mittens as I shoved the reports back in the file and returned it to Joey’s desk. I whirled at a soft rap on the door, my heart thundering as I searched for a place to hide. There was no closet. No furniture to crawl behind.
The knob began to turn. I leapt behind the door as it opened. Breath held, I pressed flat against the wall.
I stood stone still as the door swung closed again, too terrified to breathe as I stared at Nick’s back, three feet in front from me. I leaned closer to Joey’s jacket, ignoring the thick smell of cigarette smoke as I tried to melt into its sleeves. Nick reached for the toxicology reports as he sat down in Joey’s chair. He rifled through the pages. I could hear the exact moment he got to victim number five, the quick exhalation of his whispered swear.
My phone vibrated in my pocket. Nick lifted his head. I didn’t dare breathe as he reached out with one hand and slowly adjusted the angle of the sleeping laptop screen.
This was it. He was going to spot my reflection and catch me and cart me off to jail.
He tipped an ear in my direction. His chair began to swivel. I stifled a gasp as the office door swung open and smashed into the end of my nose. My eyes watered furiously as it started to throb.
Please let it be Vero.
“Surprised to see you here,” Joey said, a lingering prickle in his tone. “Thought you said the lab reports could wait until tomorrow.”
The desk chair creaked. “Didn’t mean to make myself at home. Figured you’d be at the movie for a while.”
Joey grunted. “Ty offered to cover when he heard Vero was there. Rookie’s been following her around all week like a damn puppy.”
Very slowly, I reached into my pocket and silenced my phone. I pulled up Vero’s last text.
Vero:Hannibal Lecter just left the auditorium.
I typed out a frantic reply:TOW TRUCK!!!
