48

Lauren found zero relief in those words as she quickly dressed in a long-sleeve black thermal shirt and jeans. She clipped her holster to the waistband of her jeans, so that her gun sat in the small of her back. Ripping a brush through her hair, she pulled it into a tight ponytail and then gathered the clothing from the floor to throw away.

She was walking downstairs with the ripe, smelly, bloodstained pile when there was a knock at her front door.

She didn’t have time to talk to anyone. She needed to be in her car and on the way to Teddy’s. Wishing once again she’d had a window installed in her front door or at least a peephole, she opened up.

Wayne Kencil was standing there.

“Lauren, where the hell have you been? Half the city is looking for you right now.”

“I’m surprised the guard at the gate let you in,” she said, still clutching the pile of dirty clothes to her chest.

“We’ve been having patrol cars come knock on your door. I’ve been calling and texting you. Your commissioner has been calling and texting you.”

“I saw. I just woke up. I’m heading back to the hospital now. I’ll try to make it to the task force office later,” she lied. She should have known better than to open the door after seeing him in the hospital. She should have known he’d come to her house. But she did know what was coming next.

“That’s the thing.” Kencil ran his hand over his forehead, shielding his eyes for a second. “You’re off the task force. The tire iron in Reese’s house tested positive for human blood. It looks like an exact match to the tire iron on the video.”

Bullshit, she thought, that video is so grainy every tire iron in the world looks like it would be an exact match. Don’t try to trip me up with interrogation techniques so old we don’t even use them anymore.

“I know how to pick a lock. And so do you, I bet, but you’d never admit it. Can’t you see what David Spencer is doing?”

“You have to leave David Spencer to us now.” He’d taken on that patriarchal tone he used in the task force office. “Even if it’s true he planted that evidence, it needs to be investigated properly. By someone other than you.”

“I swear if you tell me I’m too close to this case, I’m going to punch you in the throat.”

He seemed a little taken aback by that last statement because it was absolutely clear from the look on her face she wasn’t kidding.

“Go to the hospital,” he said once he gathered himself back together. “Stay with Reese. David Spencer will surface soon. He can’t have gotten far, and once we grab him, maybe we’ll be able to figure out what’s really going on.”

“Don’t you dare let Bates or Perez search my house,” she said. “I know you’re going to apply for search warrants for Reese’s place and mine. If I find out either one of those bastards was in here, I’m coming after you.”

Any sympathy he might have had melted from his voice. “This isn’t the time to be threatening people, Riley.”

Lauren roughly shoved the pile of dirty clothes in his arms. He took a step down, off her front step, trying to juggle her pants and bra, almost slipping.

“Thanks for the heads up on the task force.” Scooping her keys from the side hall table, she pulled the door closed behind her. “Do what you have to do. I gotta go.”

She brushed past him, leaving him still clinging to her dirty underwear. “Lauren!” he called. But she was already in her Ford and backing out of her driveway.