“We absolutely are going to go talk to Mr. Platte about this mysterious H.,” Cady told West firmly as they walked out to her Blazer from the hospital. He’d suggested maybe the visit wasn’t necessary because now they were almost positive about the identity of the person who was after her. “I need to know if my mother was homicidal in her youth or if her long-term drug abuse morphed her into a cunning and ruthless killer. I can still scarcely believe the damaged person I knew in the care facility has managed to carry out all this mayhem, but there seems to be little doubt left.”
“Finding her is the priority,” West said. “Triple Threat doesn’t have any manpower to spare to look for her. With Brennan on his way to his own place to catch a little shut-eye and with Darius out of commission for some time, that leaves me to stick by your side. We’ll have to let the police keep looking for your mother. They have the citywide resources to do the best job of tracking her down, anyway.”
“I do want them to find her, but I don’t want them to hurt her.”
“I can understand that.”
“We have time to drop by the police station before we get lunch and then head for the lawyer’s office. I want to communicate my feelings clearly to Detectives Grace and Rooney.”
“And we should share with them your thought about the tunnel leading to your family crypt. They will probably want to check it out.”
“All right, but please don’t mention my mother’s journals or their contents to the police,” she said as she buckled her seat belt. “At least not until we know for sure that what happened to H. would be of any interest to them.”
West went still with his hand on the key in the ignition, and his gaze lasered into her. “I’m not positive we shouldn’t tell them everything.”
“Please,” she repeated. “It’s my mother. She’s in enough trouble. I can’t bring myself to add to it unless we find justification.”
“All right.” His expression softened. “You’re the boss.” He turned his head away and started the vehicle.
As they drove out of the parking lot, Cady looked over her shoulder at Livvy. With the car seat’s back toward her, she could make out only her daughter’s profile, but Livvy’s little eyelids seemed to be getting heavy. Not surprising, since she’d been fed and changed before they left the hospital, and it was about time for her morning nap.
Cady suppressed a yawn. If only she could join her daughter in slumber land. She hadn’t enjoyed an easy night’s rest since the wee-hour attack on her in her bedroom. And West had had even less sleep, not to mention he was in recovery from poisoning. She glanced over at him, but if he was experiencing exhaustion, it didn’t show on his face.
“Thank you,” she said softly.
He glanced at her, then returned his gaze to the road. “Just doing my job, ma’am.” He accompanied the words with a sidelong smile.
A tension she hadn’t realized was present loosened its grip around her lungs. The mild teasing assured her that, despite not agreeing with her about telling everything to the cops, he wasn’t angry with her.
“You’ll get a wonderful recommendation from me to put on your website if you want it.” She infused a lighthearted tone into her banter.
“Testimonials from grateful clients are always welcome.” He shot her a grin, then sobered. “But only after the client is delivered safely on the other side of whatever caused the need for our services. We’re not quite there yet.”
“That will happen as soon as my mother’s in custody.”
“Can’t be long now. I mean, where could she be that she could stay in hiding indefinitely?”
A short time later, Detective Rooney asked Cady the same question as she sat with Detective Grace and West around Rooney’s battered desk at the precinct.
“The tunnel?” Cady made the tentative thought a question rather than a statement. “At least up until we exposed its location. Now that the tunnel’s been discovered, I don’t know where she might go.” She stretched out her palms in a helpless gesture.
Rooney grunted his skepticism. “If food, water and sanitation were the only problems with the tunnel hideout scenario, I’d say maybe she’s been holed up in there until she had to flee last night. But setting up and powering the tech equipment for all the surveillance she’s been doing would be difficult for anybody in a primitive shaft over a century old, much less someone who’s been institutionalized for years.”
“My mother was computer-savvy and very smart right up until that last near-fatal overdose.”
“Good to know.” Rooney started making a note on the pad in front of him.
Cady caught her tongue between her teeth and barely restrained herself from biting down. What was the matter with her that she was bolstering the case against her mother in order to defend the woman’s intellect? Cady had testified against one parent in a criminal trial, and now it looked like she was going to be stuck in the same position with the other parent.
Her family was such a mess. Another reason West needed to walk away from her once the danger had passed. Who needed the baggage she came with? Griffon had been her perfect mate because he understood baggage and came with plenty of his own. West, on the other hand, had won a little envy from Griff because of his wholesome, happy-family upbringing.
“We are following up on the technology angle,” put in Detective Grace. “It’s likely she stole the equipment because, supposedly, she left the care facility with only the clothes on her back.”
“Since then,” West said, “she’s had to steal a vehicle, obtain a gun and build a rudimentary bomb. A very resourceful person.”
And ruthless and determined. Cady kept those self-evident thoughts to herself.
“When you find her,” Cady said with emphasis, “please remember that she’s damaged and quite likely not responsible for her actions.”
“Rest assured,” said Rooney, “we will handle the situation appropriately. Trust us, Mrs. Long.”
Cady didn’t respond. If her mother was the culprit behind all this terror, she couldn’t simply trust the woman’s fate to people who didn’t care about her. She and West had to find her mom before the police did. She trusted him absolutely to go the extra mile to protect both her and her mother, whatever it took.
Carrying her daughter, Cady followed West out of the precinct toward the Blazer, which was parked only a short distance from the station. West’s body language said he was in hypervigilance mode, but how likely was it that her mother would try anything this close to the cop shop? Then again, Mom was mentally unstable.
“What’s that?” Cady pointed toward a sheet of paper flapping in the breeze, caught on the windshield of her vehicle.
“Stop!” West motioned for a halt with a raised hand.
Cady’s heart double-timed as he performed a long, careful, 180-degree turn, gaze scanning everything everywhere—people, buildings, vehicles.
“Follow me, and stay close,” he ordered with scarcely a glance in her direction. His attention was fully occupied with their surroundings. “The paper could be some useless advertisement, but we’re not taking chances.”
They advanced slowly toward the Blazer. If Cady crept any nearer to the solid shield of his body, she’d be treading on his boots. The crisp and refreshing autumn atmosphere suddenly felt close and heavy.
She glanced down at her daughter still sleeping in her car seat. What if some sort of attack happened right here and right now? Olivia would be caught in the middle of it.
“I won’t let anything happen to you, sweetie.” Her tone was low and fierce.
“Hang on to that attitude,” West said, matching her tone. “Here we are.” They halted beside the Blazer.
He pulled a pair of light gloves from the pocket of his jacket and tugged them on, then snatched the piece of paper from the windshield wiper. Cady held her breath as he examined it. Benign or threatening? His low growl conveyed the latter. Hot tingles shot through her from the top of her head to the soles of her feet.
West turned, holding the paper up before her face.
You can’t win, Cady-girl. They’ll never find me.
Even if her mother hadn’t used the personal nickname, she would have known the handwriting. Not the childish scrawl of the diaries, but a mature, angular script that had featured on her frequent late-to-school notes when she was a child.
“My mother was here.” Cady breathed out, staring into West’s grim face. “Only twenty yards from the police station. They really aren’t going to catch her.”