She swallowed. Memories of that kiss filled her mind. The club afterward. Her frustration. Her inability to take that blond ice-eyed Adonis to bed. Maddocks following her, unbeknownst to her ...
“Holgersen’s the one who warned me that Fitz was gunning for you. It’s why he tried to call you. Several times.” He paused. “Angie, you’ve got friends. You need to deal with that. Irascible as you might be, as much as you’ve tried to shut out and destroy and break your new partners, Holgersenlikesyou. O’Hagan likes you. I ... I—”
“You trust Holgersen?” she said quickly.
He hesitated. “I think so. He’s a dark horse, been bad places, maybe ... but I think he’s solid. Maybe more than solid.” He leaned forward. “Look, it’s not just you who Fitz is gunning for. He’s after me, too, using me. Playing me. I’ll bet my ass he’s getting ready to throw me under the bus if this case is not wrapped by Christmas. And if we do close it, he’ll personally take the kudos. He’s a paranoid little control freak on a witch hunt all around—he’s seen a gap, and he’s taking it to push himself up the Metro PD ladder somehow.”
“Do you trust me?” she said quietly.
Do you trust me enough to work with me again? Do you trust me to work with others?
He fell silent, the loaded question hanging between them. But as he was about to speak, her cell rang. Angie scrambled to fish it out of her pocket like it was a lifeline offering escape. She glanced at the caller ID. Unknown. But the same number had called several times.
“I need to take this,” she said. Connecting the call, she put her phone to her ear. “Pallorino.”
“Detective ... it ... it’s Merry Winston.” The voice on the other end sounded weak, odd, slightly slurred. Angie’s spine stiffened. Her gaze twitched to Maddocks. He was watching her intently.
“What is it?” she said, turning away slightly.
“I’ve been calling and calling since yesterday. Can we meet? I’ve got something for you. It’s ... urgent.”
“What’s urgent?”
“I’ll show you when you get here.”
“Where, Merry?”
“There’s this place at Ogden Point. The Wharf Bistro, at the top of the pier. It opens early. It’s got a lot of windows—you can see anyone approaching from the street. And you must come alone. Promise me that you’ll come alone, or I’m outta there, and you get nothing.” The call ended.
“That was Winston,” Angie said. “She ... sounds odd. Scared. She wants to meet me, alone. The café at Ogden Point.”
“Why?”
“Says she’s got urgent information.” Angie came to her feet as she spoke. “I need to go.”
“You mean, information about the Limpet case?”
“I don’t know.”
Subtext simmered, the question still lingering in his gaze.Do you trust me ...
“I need to go to her, Maddocks,” she said softly. “I told you that I believe I got through to her when I went to see her the other day—it has to be me who goes, alone.”
He inhaled deeply, got up, and went to open a compartment in the paneling on the wall. Inside was a gun locker. He opened it, removed her service weapon, ammo, and her knife.
He placed them on the table in front of her and met her eyes.
“Stay safe,” he said quietly.
Her gaze locked with his. Intensity hummed off him. And Angie knew. This was it. He was crossing that line. He was betting the odds. On her. A team. And she wasn’t ever going to let him down.
She picked up her gun, loaded it, holstered it, and pocketed her knife. “Thank you,” she whispered.
CHAPTER 66
Angie found Winston hunched at a wooden table in the glassed-in porch area of the restaurant at Ogden Point. She was pressing her hands down flat on a brown envelope as she nervously watched the path that led from the road along the breakwater to the bistro. A fire crackled inside the main restaurant area, and the air was fragrant with the scent of freshly ground coffee and sweet pastries.
The other tables were all vacant at this early hour, apart from one near the washroom where a senior sipped coffee and turned the pages of his morning newspaper with his shaky liver-spotted hands. Angie guessed that it was his dog tied to the railing outside, black fur ruffling in the salt wind.
