Vegas isn't the only hit on
this report.”
“I know, but we have traced all of the other cards
to various employees or people that Jessica does business with.”
Noah scanned down the list of towns where the
latest charges had been made, trying to commit them to memory. Most were in the
LA area. A few around New York, others at online retailers. The most recently
activated were all in Vegas.
“Can I keep this?”
“Hell no.”
Noah handed it over. “Have fun at the casinos. The
travel per diem sucks, by the way. You won’t be staying anywhere near the
strip.”
Cole pulled the straw out from between his teeth
and balled it up. “Better a Motel 6 in sin city than this joint. Good going
getting yourself shot.”
“Too bad I didn't catch the guy. Did you ID him
yet?”
Cole looked away.
“Spill it.”
“Cutlass seized the tape claiming something about
an internal investigation. But I have a buddy down in media, where they should
be processing the recording.”
Noah frowned. “So, what?”
“Internal Affairs has it and they aren’t sharing.”
Noah sat back, feeling like he'd just had the wind
knocked out of him. “What’s that about? You need to be running facial analysis
on the guy. Cross-referencing it with the staff, suspects, known
thugs-for-hire.”
“Yeah that’s what I thought. Cutlass about popped
a vein when I asked. You know the one on his head that bulges? Anyway, at the
department all-hands meeting yesterday, Cutlass went on about how pissed he is
that you blew your cover on the job.”
Noah raised an eyebrow.
Cole shrugged. “I think he's trying to show off to
some big-shot in the DC office. He was in meetings all morning and then started
issuing orders like he was some kind of drill sergeant. I could care less if
they promote him, as long as they get him out of here. The man’s an
incompetent, angry asshole. Zero for three.”
Noah lowered his voice, not sure how well a voice
carried through the hospital hallway. “He ordered me on that stakeout. Me
personally. He wants me off the case, doesn’t he?”
“I’ve got your back.” Cole clapped Noah on the
good shoulder as he stood to leave.
***
Several hours later, Noah drove himself home from
the hospital left-handed. His right arm throbbed where the stitches closed a
three-inch gash from the burglar's bullet, and the skin around the wound itched
under the sticky bandage. He was sweating by the time he pulled into the cozy
one-car garage and hauled himself to bed after downing the antibiotics that he
had been given.
Because he blacked out, they had kept him for an
extra night. Concussion. He'd gotten one playing high school football, too, so
he had a “history” of concussions. And now he couldn't sleep. He'd spent too
long lying in the damned hospital bed.
Something was wrong with the Kingsbury case,
something that nagged at him. It didn't make sense that Jessica would go to so
much trouble to disappear from the media, only to check into such a prominent
hotel on the strip where she was bound to be noticed.
On the other hand, this was the second time that
her home had been broken into while she was gone. What was the connection? Estate
security thought nothing in the house had been stolen, so what the hell was the
man in the alley after?
And worse, did she hire the thief herself to steal
her necklace? Her attorney was tight-lipped about the lawsuit over the estate,
but it didn't take a genius to assume that such a valuable piece of jewelry
could be a sticking point. Maybe she was trying to protect it from falling into
Brandon's hands.
There had to be something more to it.
Damnit. She had been trying to tell him something
the other day on the rooftop. Trying to offer some kind of information. And he
hadn't listened.
He couldn't listen. The moment he told her that
she was his primary suspect, she would have summoned her lawyer and put herself
just as far away. Noah's gut twisted at the memory of her,
this report.”
“I know, but we have traced all of the other cards
to various employees or people that Jessica does business with.”
Noah scanned down the list of towns where the
latest charges had been made, trying to commit them to memory. Most were in the
LA area. A few around New York, others at online retailers. The most recently
activated were all in Vegas.
“Can I keep this?”
“Hell no.”
Noah handed it over. “Have fun at the casinos. The
travel per diem sucks, by the way. You won’t be staying anywhere near the
strip.”
Cole pulled the straw out from between his teeth
and balled it up. “Better a Motel 6 in sin city than this joint. Good going
getting yourself shot.”
“Too bad I didn't catch the guy. Did you ID him
yet?”
Cole looked away.
“Spill it.”
“Cutlass seized the tape claiming something about
an internal investigation. But I have a buddy down in media, where they should
be processing the recording.”
Noah frowned. “So, what?”
“Internal Affairs has it and they aren’t sharing.”
Noah sat back, feeling like he'd just had the wind
knocked out of him. “What’s that about? You need to be running facial analysis
on the guy. Cross-referencing it with the staff, suspects, known
thugs-for-hire.”
“Yeah that’s what I thought. Cutlass about popped
a vein when I asked. You know the one on his head that bulges? Anyway, at the
department all-hands meeting yesterday, Cutlass went on about how pissed he is
that you blew your cover on the job.”
Noah raised an eyebrow.
Cole shrugged. “I think he's trying to show off to
some big-shot in the DC office. He was in meetings all morning and then started
issuing orders like he was some kind of drill sergeant. I could care less if
they promote him, as long as they get him out of here. The man’s an
incompetent, angry asshole. Zero for three.”
Noah lowered his voice, not sure how well a voice
carried through the hospital hallway. “He ordered me on that stakeout. Me
personally. He wants me off the case, doesn’t he?”
“I’ve got your back.” Cole clapped Noah on the
good shoulder as he stood to leave.
***
Several hours later, Noah drove himself home from
the hospital left-handed. His right arm throbbed where the stitches closed a
three-inch gash from the burglar's bullet, and the skin around the wound itched
under the sticky bandage. He was sweating by the time he pulled into the cozy
one-car garage and hauled himself to bed after downing the antibiotics that he
had been given.
Because he blacked out, they had kept him for an
extra night. Concussion. He'd gotten one playing high school football, too, so
he had a “history” of concussions. And now he couldn't sleep. He'd spent too
long lying in the damned hospital bed.
Something was wrong with the Kingsbury case,
something that nagged at him. It didn't make sense that Jessica would go to so
much trouble to disappear from the media, only to check into such a prominent
hotel on the strip where she was bound to be noticed.
On the other hand, this was the second time that
her home had been broken into while she was gone. What was the connection? Estate
security thought nothing in the house had been stolen, so what the hell was the
man in the alley after?
And worse, did she hire the thief herself to steal
her necklace? Her attorney was tight-lipped about the lawsuit over the estate,
but it didn't take a genius to assume that such a valuable piece of jewelry
could be a sticking point. Maybe she was trying to protect it from falling into
Brandon's hands.
There had to be something more to it.
Damnit. She had been trying to tell him something
the other day on the rooftop. Trying to offer some kind of information. And he
hadn't listened.
He couldn't listen. The moment he told her that
she was his primary suspect, she would have summoned her lawyer and put herself
just as far away. Noah's gut twisted at the memory of her,
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