M.E.’s confirmation that Josh had died within minutes to an hour of her turning down his invitation for red-hot sex and cinnamon rolls hit her like a sucker punch.
“We know Thornton showed up for work at the museum at 4:30 p.m. and clocked out just after 8:00 p.m., but we can’t account for the time between eight and midnight. Maybe he grabbed a bite to eat somewhere?”
Matthews answered, “His stomach contents yielded the remains of coffee and liquid chocolate, probably cocoa. I’m having one of my CSIs pull a data run on all coffee spots within a ten-mile radius of the museum that stayed open after 8:00 p.m. on Christmas Eve.”
Heart drumming, Mandy spoke up, “That won’t be necessary.”
McKinney stared at her, his thin ribbon of upper lip curling with what could only be contempt. “Do you mean to say you don’t think reconstructing Thornton’s last few hours alive are germane to the case? Really, officer, for all we know, that cup of cocoa could be the key piece of evidence that leads us to the killer.”
Feeling as though she were standing within the chamber of a beating heart, Mandy shook her head. “No, that’s not what I’m saying.” She divided her gaze between the three men staring her down and admitted, “From the time he left the museum at around eight o’clock until midnight, Josh Thornton was with me.”
S EATED ON THE STAINED SOFA in the M.E.’ s private office, Mandy reached for the paper cup of water Special Agent Walker held out. “Thank you.”
She’d barely gotten the first sip down when McKinney jumped on her. “Just what the hell were you doing hooking up with a federally protected witness, my witness, while you were on duty?”
Great going, Delinski. So much for making detective—ever . “I wasn’t on duty. I was signed out for the night. If you don’t believe me, then check my overtime slip.”
“We will, make no mistake, but for now go on. Where did you go after leaving the museum?”
“The Daily Grind on Thames Street—that’s on the Fells Point waterfront in the same block as the Recreation Pier. Right across the street, in fact,” she added, reminded they might not know the city well or even at all. “We drove in separate cars. Department policy prohibits our taking on any unauthorized passengers in the squad car without written permission.”
“And then?” McKinney pulled a pen and notepad out of his inside coat pocket and started scribbling notes.
“We ordered, got a table, and sat talking.”
The pen stilled. McKinney looked up. “Are you telling me you spent nearly four hours talking…over coffee?”
“Mochas, actually, but yes, that’s correct. It turned out we have—had—a lot in common.”
“Okay, so after this four-hour chatfest, what happened?”
“He walked me to my car, and I left to drive home.” No point in going into the details of that steamy good-night kiss or to how close she’d come to letting good-night turn into good morning.
Screw the promotion. I’ll be lucky to keep my current job.
Tone gentle, Special Agent Walker intervened. “We’ll have to include this in our report to police Internal Affairs.”
McKinney piped up, “Damn straight we will.”
Shooting a glare in the younger agent’s direction, Walker added, “Is there anything you’d like to add, Officer Delinski? Anything at all?”
Ah, so they were playing her or at least trying to. Good cop, bad cop, Mandy knew the shtick . “Nothing I can think of at this time.” Out of the corner of her eye, she saw the two agents exchanging glances. “I assume I’m free to go?”
Tucking his notes inside his coat pocket, McKinney answered with a grudging nod. “Just don’t plan on taking any extended vacations or sudden trips out of town.”
She set her water down on the coffee table and got up on shaky knees. “Relax, gentlemen, I’m no flight risk. These days I can barely afford dinner and a movie.”
And given the way things were turning out,
“We know Thornton showed up for work at the museum at 4:30 p.m. and clocked out just after 8:00 p.m., but we can’t account for the time between eight and midnight. Maybe he grabbed a bite to eat somewhere?”
Matthews answered, “His stomach contents yielded the remains of coffee and liquid chocolate, probably cocoa. I’m having one of my CSIs pull a data run on all coffee spots within a ten-mile radius of the museum that stayed open after 8:00 p.m. on Christmas Eve.”
Heart drumming, Mandy spoke up, “That won’t be necessary.”
McKinney stared at her, his thin ribbon of upper lip curling with what could only be contempt. “Do you mean to say you don’t think reconstructing Thornton’s last few hours alive are germane to the case? Really, officer, for all we know, that cup of cocoa could be the key piece of evidence that leads us to the killer.”
Feeling as though she were standing within the chamber of a beating heart, Mandy shook her head. “No, that’s not what I’m saying.” She divided her gaze between the three men staring her down and admitted, “From the time he left the museum at around eight o’clock until midnight, Josh Thornton was with me.”
S EATED ON THE STAINED SOFA in the M.E.’ s private office, Mandy reached for the paper cup of water Special Agent Walker held out. “Thank you.”
She’d barely gotten the first sip down when McKinney jumped on her. “Just what the hell were you doing hooking up with a federally protected witness, my witness, while you were on duty?”
Great going, Delinski. So much for making detective—ever . “I wasn’t on duty. I was signed out for the night. If you don’t believe me, then check my overtime slip.”
“We will, make no mistake, but for now go on. Where did you go after leaving the museum?”
“The Daily Grind on Thames Street—that’s on the Fells Point waterfront in the same block as the Recreation Pier. Right across the street, in fact,” she added, reminded they might not know the city well or even at all. “We drove in separate cars. Department policy prohibits our taking on any unauthorized passengers in the squad car without written permission.”
“And then?” McKinney pulled a pen and notepad out of his inside coat pocket and started scribbling notes.
“We ordered, got a table, and sat talking.”
The pen stilled. McKinney looked up. “Are you telling me you spent nearly four hours talking…over coffee?”
“Mochas, actually, but yes, that’s correct. It turned out we have—had—a lot in common.”
“Okay, so after this four-hour chatfest, what happened?”
“He walked me to my car, and I left to drive home.” No point in going into the details of that steamy good-night kiss or to how close she’d come to letting good-night turn into good morning.
Screw the promotion. I’ll be lucky to keep my current job.
Tone gentle, Special Agent Walker intervened. “We’ll have to include this in our report to police Internal Affairs.”
McKinney piped up, “Damn straight we will.”
Shooting a glare in the younger agent’s direction, Walker added, “Is there anything you’d like to add, Officer Delinski? Anything at all?”
Ah, so they were playing her or at least trying to. Good cop, bad cop, Mandy knew the shtick . “Nothing I can think of at this time.” Out of the corner of her eye, she saw the two agents exchanging glances. “I assume I’m free to go?”
Tucking his notes inside his coat pocket, McKinney answered with a grudging nod. “Just don’t plan on taking any extended vacations or sudden trips out of town.”
She set her water down on the coffee table and got up on shaky knees. “Relax, gentlemen, I’m no flight risk. These days I can barely afford dinner and a movie.”
And given the way things were turning out,
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