“But the amazing Wren and Lev had already started to question how Preston was doing it. How does a high-profile judge cover up crimes so they never even see the light of day?”
She tapped her pen against the latest victim: a grey-haired man, dressed in his full police uniform, telling us the headshot must have been taken before he retired six months ago. “Police Commissioner Stiller. Killed in a carjacking earlier today. And finally…” She took a photo off the side table next to her and pinned it below the others, causing Jarrid and me to look at each other. “While you were both coming back into the office, Sean came in. This is Doctor Goodwin, shot in the head outside the hospital where he worked earlier this evening. Him and Stiller also had the tarot cards left with their bodies.”
“Two in the same day?” I questioned, and Lacy nodded. “He’s escalating.”
Lacy spun on her heel, brandishing the pen in my direction. “Erm, it could be a she committing these crimes. Let’s not be sexist, Roman.”
I held up my hands defensively. “Is it likely though, Lace? I mean, do women really carjack prominent men or hide in the shadows of a car park and shoot a man in the head?”
She didn’t reply, giving me a stare so intense that my balls shrivelled and my blood ran cold.
I dropped my hands into my lap as Jarrid chuckled next to me.
“He orsheis escalating,” he added, like he was trying to get into Lacy’s good books, and he was met with a smile from her, so it was obviously working.
“Women can do anything a man can do, Roman. Plus, the person who attacked you was small. Do you think it’s more likely a teenager did this than a woman?” I let her suggestion settle. Could this be a woman? I’d presumed the teenager was an unfortunate coincidence, but could the person doing this… killing these people be a woman?
“Wren, let’s look through the information you have for any women this might be. Anyone who is linked to all these men. Also, just to be thorough, let’s look for older teenagers as well. You never know, it could be some disgruntled kid.”
Wren held up two fingers to let me know he’d heard, but he didn’t pause typing with his other hand.
“But how are they all connected?” Jarrid asked, staring at the images of the dead men on the murder board.
“My guess, and it is just a guess,” Lacy started, obviously having done her homework on the case, “but Wren found money moving from Preston to all the others, so a criminal pays Preston to cover up their bad guy actions, Preston needs the cops onside or needs a medical certificate forging. He can throw a trial or make a witness look untrustworthy…”
“And Larson,” he asked.
“Is either being shown as an example of what this corrupt ring of arseholes were up to, or he was part of the ring and buried the bodies in his buildings so people could literally get away with murder.”
I blew out a breath. “Thomas and Sean are not going to be happy if there are dead bodies buried all over the city.”
“It’s why I moved to the quaint seaside town,” Lev said sarcastically. “Thought it would be dull and boring. Who knew, eh?”
He glanced at Wren, who smiled and threw him a wink before they both got back to work.”
Lacy tapped the pen against her lips like she was a detective trying to crack the case. “Seems a bit high-powered, doesn’t it? All generals and no soldiers.”
Jarrid stood from his chair, walking over to her, standing with his arms folded across his chest as they stared at the photos.
“She’s right,” he said, glancing back at me, his face serious. “I mean, Preston gets the job, tells the others who needs to get involved, but who is doing the legwork?”
I pinched my bottom lip in a rhythmic motion as I pondered his question. “Bent cops, doctors who were taking backhanders?”
Lacy turned as well. “Maybe, but that gets messy. The more people who know what’s going on, the more people can spill their secrets. No, my guess is that they had a fixer. Someone who did the dirty work for them.”
I stood too; the tension in the room made it hard to sit still. I shoved my hands in my pockets as I leaned back against the edge of the table.
“And what, this fixer turned on them all and is taking them out one by one?”
We stared at each other before I announced, “Someone order some coffee. I think we might be here a while.”
38
HANA
I dropped to my knees,my phone clattering to the tiled floor as I leaned over the toilet, vomiting violently into the bowl. The text message I’d just been sent showed an image of my brother that was now burnt into my retinas—I wasn’t sure I’d ever unsee it. It wasn’t just the memory of a face I’d not seen in so long that I’d almost forgotten him; it was also that the photo was a picture of him dead. Lying in a pool of blood in a prison I’d never visited.
My vision blurred as pain ripped through my heart, seeing Tony in that state. I collapsed back against the wall, letting my tears out, hating that, despite everything I’d done in my life, saving Tony wasn’t possible. I’d done so much I was ashamed of, but losing him was the worst. “I’m so sorry,” I whispered to the heavens before reaching for my phone, needing to delete the photo before I completely lost it, but as I did, it beeped with another message.
