Ellen followed a step behind Brice as he led the way through the tangle of cops, K-9 teams, detectives, and the occasional reporter trying to get an angle on what had happened. She knew by experience that reporters weren’t always respecting or trusting of the official statements released by the CPD. She didn’t blame them. They were doing their job and wanted to see and hear firsthand, but more than one aggressive reporter had screwed up an investigation. By the looks of things, that wasn’t about to happen here. There was a blue practically handcuffed to each press and TV reporter. Every precaution to keep the true facts under wraps was being applied.
The best laid plans of mice and men often went awry, however.
“I think you are right. The mayor is probably up near the front of the mansion. He’ll be guarded by eight or ten cops, but he’s never been one to adhere to that kind of guard-me policy, so he will ignore that protection. He’ll be larger than life, doing what politicians do.”
“That’s what I think, too. We should be able to approach him with our badges on our jackets. Then we can talk.”
Brice moved left and she followed again.
Politicians.
She’d not thought about them much. There were local elections she hadn’t even bothered to vote in because she didn’t care who was elected. She worked in a lab, concentrating on what it took to process evidence and uncover truths for CPD detectives to use in solving cases. Or at least create questions to that end. What politicians thought about that process or even thought about those facts had been of little consequence to her.
Until now.
Someone had seen fit to involve the mayor in these cases including the odd behavior of a few cops. That part was obvious, and she wanted to find out why. No, needed to find out why. Like Brice had said, they had to find out why all of this violence had been perpetrated in such a short time.
Bella was right, the real cop in her, mostly dormant until lately, was making a beeline to discover the truth.
One more jog around three cops talking quietly and she saw the mayor. Brice stopped and looked at her. The floodlights were so bright that this area of the estate was like daylight.
“There he is, in all of his glory,” said Brice quietly.
“He’s not alone.”
“We expected that.”
“No, I don’t mean his aides and the CPD. I mean the woman. That’s Amanda Blunt.”
Brice squinted. “Yeah, you’re right. I hadn’t noticed her. How fortunate for us. I hope.”
That new feeling of rushing adrenaline returned with a vengeance. It took a few seconds to control it before she spoke, not getting there totally.
“What are the chances of those two being together in this situation, at this moment, without having some connection to what’s been going on the last few days?” asked Ellen.
“I’d say low as shit.”
“Me too. Let’s go. We need an audience with the king and queen.”
Brice grabbed her hand. “Slow down. We have to do this without looking out of place or threatening. If you rush up there, you’re going to draw attention to us. We want to not do that until we get close enough to talk.”
“So they won’t be able to get away from us?”
“Right.”
Out of the blue, he bent down and kissed her flush on the lips. Wonderful didn’t cover his act.
“What was that for?” she said.
“Because if we screw this up, it might be a while before I get to do it again.”
“I liked the kiss, but what does that mean? We’re cops doing our job.”
“I love your FT instincts for the facts. It’s helped to get us here. But we’re about to go up to the mayor, and by the looks of things, his good friend, the rich philanthropist, and ask them questions about six murders, her serial killer brother, and how this note got from his office to your hand. They may not like the implications, yes?”
Ellen reached up and kissed him back. “You’re right. And, yep we are. If they want to ignore us tonight, fine. They can’t do it forever. Justice, right?”
He smiled, nodding his head slightly. “Justice is a grand ideal. Truth too. Money and politics, however, can trump those things.”
“I get that. Let’s go play cards anyway, Detective.”
Ellen started toward the mayor and Amanda Blunt, Brice took a couple of strides to draw even.
They stepped through the moist, plush grass, her mind focused not on Brice’s warnings, but on what she needed to know. Period. This could all be circumstantial. Maybe Blunt didn’t know about her brother. Maybe someone stole the mayor’s letterhead. Maybe this was all part of a wild puzzle that couldn’t be put together to make sense. But, by God, she was going to find out.
They reached the edge of the wide driveway and turned slightly left toward the house.
She could hear the mayor encouraging one of the officers walking past on the way into the mansion’s front door.
Two more steps and she stopped, feeling her eyes widen.
The Father’s location was no longer a mystery. He had just stepped up to Amanda Blunt, wrapped an arm around her neck, and placed a gun to her temple.