Billy left Sharma’s house, winding through back streets to get to Poplar Ave. Little traffic. No moon. The search had been a misfire. It was like bringing a SIG up smooth and balanced. Pull the trigger. All you get is a click.
Frankie had agreed to stop by the Baptist Hospital and ask the pharmacist to try and decode the compounds listed on Sharma’s prescription. Even though Frankie and the tech thought the bottle was evidence of drug addiction, they couldn’t be certain until the compounds were identified. However, addiction would explain some of Sharma’s recent behavior.
Frankie would go home and get some sleep. In the morning they would work up an interrogation strategy in case Sharma and Vanderman did show up.
Billy passed a darkened Chick-fil-A and the bright lights of a 24-hour Walgreens. Sitting at the cross street on his right was a yellow 1970 Boss 302 Mustang. It tore out in front of him, the kid in the passenger seat whooping out the window as they whipped around the next corner. Billy reached to light up the Charger’s LEDs and give chase, but then stopped. Not his job tonight. He had a lot to think about. Plus, there was something pulling at the back of his mind.
He slowed at a red light and watched the cross traffic. Thoughts churned to the surface. Back at his uncle’s house, Highsmith had said, This isn’t over by a long shot. At the time he’d thought Highsmith meant their conversation wasn’t over, but that wasn’t right. The look on his face had said a lot more.
Billy had once witnessed a pit bull dangling five feet off the ground from a rope tied to a barn rafter. The dog had jumped up and grabbed the swinging rope in its jaws. It refused to let go. Highsmith didn’t appear to be the pit bull type, but it’s a mistake to make assumptions about people. Highsmith had failed to get the information he needed and was now locked out of the law firm. He could still be planning to go in after those files.
A car behind Billy honked. The light had turned green. He hit the gas. Okay, damn it. He’d closed a lot of cases trusting his instincts. Right now his instincts said to cruise by the law firm and make sure Highsmith’s judgment hadn’t been knocked off the rails.
He drove the mile and a half to the firm. Slowing, he approached seeing no lights on in the building except for the downstairs foyer. He decided to go ahead and check for the Saab in the back parking lot. As he was changing lanes to make the turn, headlights filled his rear view mirror. A black Ram ProMaster cargo van shot past him and made the turn into the firm’s driveway, hitting the upslope so hard the vehicle went airborne. It then disappeared behind the darkened building.
He and every other cop in the city knew who traveled in that van and several others like it. They were the KODA Group, an elite security service hired to protect wealthy individuals and their property. What made the service so effective were the 24/7 mobile units able to respond to a security breach within minutes.
No reason for the Lee Law Firm to have that kind of protection unless they were expecting an intruder.
Billy turned into the driveway, cut his lights, and rolled quietly into the illuminated back parking lot. The van was angled at the rear entrance with its cargo door open, the crew already inside the building. His tension eased when he realized Highsmith’s Saab wasn’t in the lot, only the van.
The KODA Group protects what is irreplaceable—works of art, extravagant jewelry, vintage automobiles, and the lives of people who fear retaliation or abduction. KODA’s job was to show up fast and stop an intruder before he could do damage or make off with the goods. To do that, a KODA client’s security system feed was routed to the vans and monitored there. Break-ins were never reported to law enforcement. That meant no cruisers would show up at the Lee Law Firm tonight. Just him. Unmonitored responses meant KODA was free to take intruders to what’s known as “back alley court” and apply their own form of justice. The intruder is then dumped at the ER if he’s lucky. Rumor had it that some intruders disappeared altogether.
He rolled down his window and listened. No commotion inside. Must’ve been a false alarm. He put the car in reverse and was backing around the van when he saw Highsmith’s Saab parked in the shadows behind the building next door.
Oh, hell. If Highsmith was inside, he was in trouble. Now what, call for backup? If he did that and KODA had proof that Highsmith had broken in, he’d be locked up for sure. He flung open his car door and ran to the rear entrance. He could handle this, he hoped.
The back entrance was unlocked. He slipped through a porch area and peered around the corner into a hallway. A darkened stairwell on the right led to the offices upstairs. Male voices coming from above sounded like KODA. The voices grew louder.
“Back off!”
That was Highsmith’s voice, pitched higher than usual. Billy took the stairs two at a time. More voices. A scream of pain.
Billy rushed across the second floor landing and was reaching for his weapon when fingers dug into his shoulder from behind. He ducked and twisted out from under then swung a roundhouse right. His fist connected with a nose. The bone cracked. The man grunted, his hand coming up to protect his face. Billy drove his knee into the guy’s nuts. The man doubled over. He took him down with a hard left to the side of the throat. The guy dropped, out cold.
Billy bound his hands and feet with flex cuffs, pulled his SIG, and ran down the long hallway, hearing another familiar voice coming from Caroline’s office.
“Tase the son of a bitch and get him out of here,” Martin yelled.
“I’m about to light you up, son,” said a heavier voice.
At the doorway he saw two KODA operatives with their backs turned, one pointing a Taser at Highsmith. Highsmith was behind the desk holding a metal column lamp crossways in front of him. Martin lurked in the corner, his face eager with excitement.
A man lay on the carpet with one hand at his side. Blood oozed from between his fingers. Apparently, Highsmith had stabbed him with the finial on top of the lamp.
By damn. Highsmith had some grit after all.
“Police!” Billy trained his weapon between the shoulder blades of the man holding the Taser. “Drop it! Hit the floor.”
The operatives knew the drill. They dropped to their stomachs, hands behind their heads. Highsmith looked relieved but didn’t lower the lamp. Martin came out of the corner. This was his building. He was the key holder of the property.
“We caught him in the act of stealing proprietary information,” Martin said. “And he attacked this man.” He pointed to the wounded guy who was coming to his feet.
“These people—” Highsmith started.
“Not a word out of you,” Billy said. “And put down that lamp.”
Highsmith set the lamp on the desk, his face flushed with anger. This was probably one of the few times in his life he’d been powerless.
“I want him charged with breaking and entering and aggravated assault,” Martin said, knowing he was well within his rights.
What a foul-up. Billy had to get Highsmith out and fast. “On your feet, gentlemen,” he said to the other men on the floor. They stood. “Keep your hands where I can see them. Who’s in charge?”
The man who’d been wielding the Taser spoke up. “O.W. Chase, Sergeant USMC retired.”
“Sergeant,” Billy said. “Are we done here?”
Chase nodded. “I’m good with calling it even.”
“That’s not your decision,” Martin hollered at Chase.
“Shut up,” Billy barked at Martin, “or I’ll arrest you for interfering with an officer.”
“We’re out of here,” Chase said, hustling the wounded man along.
Billy turned to Highsmith. “Now you. Hands behind your back. I’m hooking you up.”
Highsmith froze.
“Do it!”
He came from behind the desk and placed his hands at the small of his back. Billy cuffed him and took him by his elbow intentionally jostling Martin hard as he passed. When they reached the parking lot, the KODA van was gone.
“How did you know I was here?” Highsmith asked.
“Keep walking. Do not tell me if you got what you came for.”
Billy helped him into the back seat, certain Martin was watching from an upstairs window. The little shit. Billy got behind the wheel and heard Highsmith squirming against the cuffs.
“What do you think he’ll do?” Highsmith asked, using a strong voice to cover how shaken he was.
“He’ll try to figure out what you saw in there and report it to Rosalyn. She’ll worry about what you know. I’ll bet she’ll stay up all night forming a strategy.”
He heard Highsmith breathing, adrenaline burning up his oxygen. Billy felt the same. He pulled out onto Poplar and headed west. They passed stately homes set far back from the street insulated by brick walls, iron gates, and century-old trees overhanging the sidewalks. He’d like to be in on the KODA debriefing tonight when Sergeant Chase explained how a nerd with a desk lamp had held off his team.
In the rearview mirror he checked Highsmith and saw his cheek puffing at the bone where a punch had landed before he’d gotten his hands on the lamp. Billy could almost hear the wheels turning in the man’s mind, thinking how close he’d come to being tased and dragged into a van.
How had Martin connected with the KODA Group in the first place? Ah. They must protect the warehouse where he stores his car collection. So why call in the big guns for the firm? There can’t be anything of tangible value so it must be secrets that would destroy the firm if they were stolen. Information in those files.
“How long were you in Caroline’s office before they showed?” he asked.
“Long enough.”
“What about Martin?”
“I don’t know how or when he got there. He may have been at the bank and they called him.”
“You know those guys could’ve chopped you up and fed you to the hogs. Boom. Gone. That’s probably what Martin had in mind.”
“I handled myself okay.”
Oh, right. “You said Rosalyn took your key. How did you get past the lock?”
“I learned the tricks of B&E men when I worked at the prosecutor’s office. Locks aren’t a problem.”
“What about the alarm?”
“I figured Martin was too lazy to change the code and he hadn’t.” Highsmith shifted in the seat. “Pull over. Get me out of these cuffs.”
“I’m taking you in.”
“Seriously?”
“KODA has a security video that proves you broke in.”
“I worked in that building until yesterday. I’ll say I forgot something, so I went back.”
“Except that you just confessed to me you went in that building unlawfully. It’s my duty to take you in.”
“Bastard,” Highsmith muttered.
He checked the rearview mirror. Highsmith was staring vacantly out the window. Another mile to the Poplar viaduct then a fifteen-minute drive to the Shelby County Jail. If he went through with this arrest, Highsmith would lose his license to practice law. There’d be no justice in that. Apparently, the guy did a bad thing for a good reason. Billy had done the same thing more than once. He’d just never gotten caught. Besides, with KODA’s involvement he was beginning to believe Highsmith’s claim about the embezzlement.
But if he let Highsmith go and Rosalyn pressed charges, the chief would come down on his head. Director Davis had warned him to play it straight. If it came to light that he’d turned Highsmith loose, his own job would be at risk.
He took a right into the deserted Poplar Plaza Shopping Center and parked in front of Spin Street Music. The iconic thirty-foot tall image of Elvis in his gold lame´ suit glowed in the showcase above the store’s entrance.
“Why are we stopping?” Highsmith asked.
“To make a call.” He hit Frankie’s number on his mobile. She answered.
“You still at the hospital?” he asked.
“I’m at Walnut Grove and Yates.”
“I need you to swing by the Lee Law Firm and see if the place looks buttoned up.”
“Sure. Why?”
“I’ll explain later.”
“You always say that,” she said.
“I know. Did the pharmacist decode Sharma’s script?”
She made him wait. “It’s definitely not cold medicine.” He could hear the click of her turn signal. “I’ll do a drive-by and text in a couple of minutes.”
He sat back. Street sounds bled through the closed window. In the back Highsmith was looking up at the towering image of Elvis outlined in strips of blue neon and lighted by spotlights. It had been a close call with KODA. Both of them could’ve been injured. It wasn’t over yet. Martin was obviously so pissed off he’d be willing to walk through fire to put Highsmith behind bars.
Billy twisted around in his seat. “What in the hell were you thinking? You went in to steal evidence that you know can’t be used to get an indictment.”
“I had my reasons.”
“Reasons ain’t worth shit when you’re sitting in lockup.”
Highsmith drew a deep breath and exhaled.
“What is it?” Billy asked.
“You said Caroline might have sent a letter to Sharma admitting she’d left him for another man. I was that man. So if Sharma killed her, I was the reason. I couldn’t handle that. I was desperate to find some other killer. Some other reason she’d been murdered. That was Martin. I wanted it to be that way.”
Billy almost felt guilty. The man had made him suspicious at the barge, so he’d exaggerated what was in the letter to make him react. As a prosecutor, Highsmith had played the same kind of games, but it was still dirty pool.
A cruiser running code whipped through the light at Poplar and Highland, the sound of the siren deepening in the distance. “Tell me why you broke into the firm when you didn’t have the computer passwords you needed,” he said.
“I took a chance. I guessed at Caroline’s password and hit it on the first try. BlueSkies. It was her favorite song.”
“I know that.”
Highsmith gave him a sharp look. “Caroline told me the two of you had an intimate relationship. She said she was a mixed-up teenager back then.”
Billy looked away, not wanting Highsmith to see how upset he was. Jesus. Caroline must have told him everything.
“She said she regretted the way she’d treated you. And I knew our relationship would make you angry,” Highsmith said. “Like now.”
“You’ve got a bigger problem than that. I don’t believe your reason for jilting Caroline.”
Highsmith’s head hung down, the blue neon coloring his face. “It was a lousy excuse. I didn’t believe it either. I wanted Caroline to love me the way she loved you during your high school romance. Instead, I was the guy she didn’t want anyone to know she was sleeping with. She made that quite clear. She left Sharma and then realized she was pregnant. I think she was terrified he would find out and come after her again, so she told me the baby was mine. I thought I didn’t care whose baby it was, but I guess I did.
“She insisted on a quick wedding. I was already having doubts when I stumbled onto Martin’s embezzlement. You know how it went from there. That night at The Hollywood I felt justified walking away from her.”
“Then you hid out at the diner and licked your wounds.”
Highsmith’s face stiffened. “I’m not proud of it. I was heartbroken. Disillusioned. I was going to have to blow the whistle on her and her family.”
Billy got out of the car and went around to open Highsmith’s door. “Come on. Get out.” He unlocked the cuffs.
Highsmith shook out his arms. “What now?”
Billy’s phone pinged with Frankie’s text:
Lee Law Firm closed up. See you AM. Bring donuts.
“Get in front,” Billy said. “I’m taking you to your car.”