The next morning, the ringing phone caught Billy coming out of the shower. Water rolled down his calves as he whipped a towel around his waist. It was Blue on the phone.
“Mr. Lee is having one of his good days,” Blue said. “He wants to tell you about a conversation he had with Caroline a few weeks back.”
“Good. Put him on the phone.”
“He wants you to come down.”
For God’s sakes. He didn’t want to spend half a day driving to Airlee and back, plus if Rosalyn found out about it she would raise hell. But the old man might have something important for him.
“Is Mrs. Lee going to be around?”
Blue chuckled. “I’ll make sure we’re in the clear.”
“See you around one.”
“We’ll hold lunch.”
He dried off and lathered for a shave. Too little sleep last night. His mind wouldn’t give him a break. He was up and down making notes about how easy it would’ve been for a relationship to start between Caroline and Highsmith. She was unhappy. Highsmith was new in town. They clicked and got carried away. Billy nicked his chin with the razor, flashing back to his lovemaking with Caroline. He couldn’t see how that guy was any kind of a match for her in bed or out. If there’d been something between them, they did a good job keeping it secret, which wasn’t easy to do at a small firm.
Things would’ve changed when she realized she was pregnant. She could’ve told Highsmith he was the father and then decided to marry Sharma after all. In a jealous rage Highsmith abducted her and shot her.
Or Caroline told him the baby was his. Highsmith agreed to marry her but got cold feet. He killed her to save his freedom.
All speculation. Whatever was true, they needed more information on this guy to rule him in or out.
He drank steaming coffee while he scanned the front page of the paper. Middlebrook’s public plea appeared below the fold. Damn it. He banged his cup down on the table. The day had just gotten harder.
On the way to the CJC, a call came through directing him to an early meeting with Chief Middlebrook, probably concerning a call from Rosalyn Lee. Middlebrook had taken on the job of running interference with the media, but he was too busy to react to every squawk from the victim’s family. Billy parked in the lot across the street and was starting up the steps when his phone pinged a text from Frankie:
Director’s conference room. Director and Chief on scene. Officer requesting backup.
Uh oh. Both the top brass. He took the express elevator, tucking in his shirttail, and hurried toward the closed door at the end of the hall. He hoped Middlebrook’s presence would mitigate the director’s anger. He had a lot of work to do before getting on the road to Airlee.
He rapped the door with his knuckles and pushed it open. Frankie was seated at the table facing the door, her body stiff with anxiety. Director Davis sat at the end of the table, a compact, powerful man who liked his suits cut a fraction too small to emphasize the breadth of his shoulders and the bulge of his biceps. It was rumored that on a bet he’d lifted the back end of a Volkswagen Beetle and held it for a count of five. The bet had been for a count of three.
Middlebrook stood at the window with his back to the room. The Commercial Appeal lay on the table opened to an inside page Billy hadn’t seen. Two photographs appeared at the top—a headshot of him and the photo of Caroline in the wedding gown they’d used for the neighborhood canvass. He didn’t need to see the byline to know his old nemesis Terri Cozi had written the article.
“You’ve seen today’s paper, Detective?” Davis asked in a neutral voice. He wasn’t the type to show his cards.
“Not that page, sir.”
“Read it now.”
The article opened with a fairly accurate rundown of the investigation along with an impressive bio for Caroline. The next few paragraphs made the family connection between Finn Adams, the disappeared cousin, and victim Caroline Lee.
The rest of the article read like a tabloid with Billy’s name running throughout. That didn’t surprise him since Terri, a wickedly attractive investigative journalist he’d lived with three years ago, had written the article. She’d quoted several observations he had made about the Lee family during a conversation they had one evening when the power at their apartment had gone out. They sat with candles, beer, and cold pizza and talked for hours. She’d told him about her parents’ divorce when she was six. He talked about his life in Mississippi at the diner and the glamorous Lee family at Airlee Plantation. Thank God he’d stayed away from the Jack Daniel’s that night or he might’ve divulged his teenage romance with Caroline.
In the last paragraph, Terri revealed that Caroline had been murdered while wearing the gown, the one she would’ve worn for the wedding she’d called off five weeks earlier.
Billy slipped a glance at Frankie. Her brows lifted. He got the picture. Terri had called Frankie.
Davis steepled his fingers in front of him. “Seems you can’t stay out of the papers,” he said to Billy.
“The reporter is a former friend. The information was taken from a conversation we had three years ago.”
“Pillow talk?” Davis asked.
He paused. “We were sharing an apartment at the time.”
“Is the information in the article accurate?”
“For the most part.”
“She must’ve been taking notes,” Middlebrook said.
“Knowing Terri, she secretly recorded it. That sort of behavior is the reason I ended our relationship.”
Middlebrook walked over to stand beside Davis’s chair, his face empty of expression. That worried Billy more than anything.
“Where did the dress intel come from?” Middlebrook asked.
Frankie started to speak. Billy cut her off.
“Hard to say, Chief. The park ranger and EMTs saw the dress. So did Hanson. Cameras were everywhere.”
“It was me,” Frankie said.
“What happened?” Davis asked.
“Ms. Cozi called yesterday. I made the mistake of speaking with her. I’d prefer to leave it at that.”
“Not an option,” Davis said.
Her eyes shifted to Billy. The heat in her gaze could’ve stripped paint. It was killing her to admit she’d screwed up.
“The reporter asked me questions, none of which I answered. I was about to hang up when she said, ‘By the way, tell me about the dress.’ I said, ‘I’m not talking about the dress.’”
“She tricked you into a partial confirmation,” Davis said.
“Yes, sir.”
Middlebrook cleared his throat. “Malone, you have to know that media will seek you out. Never assume you can manipulate the story a reporter will write. And never become the topic the way Able has done.”
Frankie started to respond. Billy interrupted again.
“My partner was aware that Ms. Cozi provided helpful information during the Judge Overton investigation. She may have thought Cozi was a team player.”
“You’re taking responsibility for your partner’s error?” Davis asked.
“This was my fault,” Frankie bristled.
Billy glanced over. She’d committed a serious breach. Davis, new on the job, would be looking for an excuse to show the troops he meant business. If he decided to punish her with suspension, Middlebrook’s hands would be tied.
Davis tapped his pen on a pad, his eyes narrowed in thought. “Young lady, please step outside.”
Frankie rose, her expression neutral but her fists were clenched. The door closed a little too loudly behind her. This was bad. When he’d come back to the force, he’d negotiated with the chief to have Frankie as his partner. He might have to fight to keep her.
Middlebrook took the chair beside Davis and signaled for Billy to sit across from them.
“I have a budget fight with city council in twenty-five minutes, so I’ll be direct,” Davis said. “I learned this morning, along with the rest of the city, that you have a history with the Lees. The chief tells me you’ve recently had legal dealings with their firm. Is that correct?”
“Caroline Lee managed probate of my uncle’s will. I was never directly involved.”
Davis glanced at Middlebrook, who was busy studying his knuckles. “I’ve read your file, Able. This Cozi woman compromised another case of yours three years ago.”
It was true. One night while he’d slept, Terri copied notes in his briefcase and used the information to publish an article about a case under investigation. Fortunately, the defendant had agreed to a plea deal the day before the article appeared. He’d barely missed disciplinary action and could’ve been fired.
He looked from Davis to Middlebrook. Both men were grim-faced.
Davis pointed to the newspaper. “Rosalyn Lee accused you of being a media hound. A day later your photograph appears beside the victim’s. My life will be made easier if I discipline you before the mayor and Mrs. Lee call.”
Davis turned to Middlebrook. “And, Bud. You used poor judgment keeping Able’s involvement with the Lee family from me.”
“You wanted this case closed,” the chief shot back. “Able is our best man.”
“He has four notations in his file. One official reprimand.” He pointed a finger at Billy. “You take too many risks. I won’t tolerate any more surprises.”
“Yes sir,” he said. If Davis and Middlebrook knew he was planning a trip to Airlee without Rosalyn Lee’s knowledge, he’d spend the rest of his career monitoring pawn shops and chasing down stolen scrap metal.
Davis came to his feet. “Bud, I’d like a word with you before I leave. Able, you’re dismissed but no more screwups. Do what it takes to build a case the DA can prosecute. And in the future when you’re with a female reporter keep your fly zipped.”
Down the hall Billy found Frankie leaning against the wall next to the water fountain, her jaw working with tension.
She came off the wall, straightening her jacket. “Thanks for stepping in, but I’m not the little lady who needs to be rescued. In the future, you’ll have to suppress your Southern gentleman instincts.”
“Partners cover each other.”
“Maybe I’m not the partner type.”
You are, he thought. You don’t know it because no one’s ever had your back.
“We sink or swim together,” he said. “Besides, I should’ve told you Terri almost got me fired.”
Frankie looked off. “She said the two of you had stayed friends after you broke up.”
“That’s Terri. She lies so much she thinks she’s telling the truth.”
“Wow. Twisted.” She frowned.
He guessed she was remembering how she’d almost tanked their partnership with a whopper of a lie when they’d first begun working together.
“By the way, I had a late night visitor,” he said, changing the subject.
He gave her the details of Highsmith’s apparent emotional attachment to Caroline. “He wouldn’t tell me where he’s been since Monday, and he won’t come in for questioning. I’ve put a call in to a friend in Chicago who is a criminal defense lawyer. He’ll know the gossip about the State’s Attorney’s Office.”
“You consider Highsmith a suspect?”
“Sharma’s still number one, but this guy will do as a backup.”
She nodded. “I’ll check for carry permits in Illinois and Tennessee to see if he owns a registered weapon.”
“Good. Blue Hopkins called this morning. Saunders Lee says he has information that may help us. I’m leaving for Airlee at noon. Blue assured me Rosalyn isn’t scheduled to be there, but if she shows up, Davis will have me barbequed.”
“You can’t close cases if you don’t take risks,” she said.
He smiled to himself. Atta’ girl.
They were heading for the squad room when Middlebrook came around the corner. “I knew I’d find you two in a huddle. Malone, my rookie detectives get a pass on one screwup as long as they haven’t killed somebody. Log this and forget it.”
The chief knew his people. He’d pegged Frankie as a perfectionist who would chew on this incident unless ordered to let it go. She was hard on herself, but her obsessive side also made for good detective work.
“And you.” He pointed a finger at Billy. “Every dog gets one free bite. After that the owner is on notice. Do what it takes within reason to get this case closed. I’ve assigned two detectives to take the calls coming in from today’s paper.” He sighed. “Don’t screw up. Either of you.”