J erry was trying not to fall asleep. He was doing the best he could to stay alert by sitting at Mike Torrance’s desk and playing solitaire on the computer, and by drinking cup after cup of putrid coffee.
The East Precinct was quiet, even for 3:00 a.m. A bunch of cops had gone with Torrance to Lake Stevens, and the ultra-perky Kim Kellogg had snatched another bunch to accompany her to Wolfe and Maddox’s apartment in the U-district. Another handful had been called away on a possible gang-related shooting in Volunteer Park. Jerry had worked quite a few of these shifts during his time with PD and didn’t miss them one bit.
The officer on duty looked as bored and tired as he did. Jerry had tried to make small talk with him as the guy worked his way through a stack of papers, but the younger man wasn’t interested in chatting. He was probably thinking Jerry should just go home, but Jerry couldn’t bring himself to leave. While he had no official reason to stick around, this was his case in every way that mattered. He needed to know if Sheila Tao was still alive. He wanted to be here when they brought Wolfe in. He felt a sense of personal responsibility to Morris to see this through. The big guy had had a tough few weeks, and he deserved some finality, whatever the outcome.
Jerry sat back in the springy, ergonomic desk chair at Torrance’s desk and wondered where the hell Morris was. He’d called him several times, unable to fight the feeling that his client had gone back up to the Lake Stevens house. He hoped not-it was ridiculous to think of the investment banker, untrained and unarmed, snooping around the house of a probable killer-but Morris was so stubborn that Jerry couldn’t put it past him. Because, frankly, it’s what Jerry would have done if the situation had been reversed and the love of his life had gone missing.
A husky voice interrupted his thoughts. Jerry glanced up from his mindless computer game to see Abby Maddox standing there. She didn’t look bad at all considering she’d just found out her boyfriend might be a murderer. Her shiny black hair was tucked behind her ears, and without makeup, she could have passed for eighteen.
“How’re you holding up?” Jerry closed his solitaire game and looked up at her. Her pale skin was luminescent under the fluorescent lights. “You must be tired.”
She sat on the edge of the desk. “Too wound up.”
“Maybe you should have gone to the motel.”
Maddox shook her head. She’d declined Kellogg’s offer to drive her there earlier, preferring instead to wait until her apartment was cleared and she could go home.
“There’s a sofa in the break room if you want to lie down,” Jerry said. “But I can’t guarantee how clean it is. More than a few cops have slept there over the years and I’m pretty sure it smells.”
This got a small laugh out of her. “Thanks, I’ll pass.” Maddox looked at him closely. “Listen, this might sound weird, but… I’ve seen you before, right? You followed us.”
Jerry grimaced. “Yikes. Guess I wasn’t as sneaky as I thought.”
“No, you were pretty good. I wouldn’t have noticed you at all. It’s just that Ethan was always really paranoid about stuff like that.” She averted her eyes. “I guess now I know why.”
The young woman looked so sad that Jerry had to restrain himself from putting his arm around her. “Hey, how about some coffee? It tastes like shit, but it’s hot and fresh. Just made a pot.”
She peeked into his mug and wrinkled her nose. “Tempting, but do you know if there’s any tea?”
“There wasn’t anything in the break room?”
“I wasn’t sure if I was allowed to look. I don’t exactly work here.”
Jerry stretched his arms over his head and yawned. “I don’t either, but it didn’t stop me.”
“I saw a twenty-four-hour diner a couple blocks down.” Maddox leaned on the edge of the desk and Jerry got a whiff of her scent. She smelled fresh, almost tropical. It was rather inviting, even under the circumstances. “Think it’d be okay if I went and grabbed something there? I could use some food, too.”
Jerry gave her a sympathetic glance. “You’re not supposed to leave without a police escort. Did Torrance explain that to you? You’re a material witness now. They have to keep an eye on you, for your own protection.”
“Yeah, he told me.”
“You have a place to stay in case they don’t clear your apartment tonight?”
She blinked and her face sagged a little. He noticed her eyes were moist. “No.”
Jerry mentally kicked himself for upsetting her. “Don’t worry, we’ll get it figured out.”
“You used to be a cop, right?”
“Used to.”
“Can they charge people for being blind, deaf, and stupid?”
Jerry smiled and reached out to pat her knee, but snatched his hand away before he actually made contact. His hand on her leg would not be appropriate. Slightly embarrassed, he said, “It’s not a crime to believe in your boyfriend. I’m sorry it turned out this way.”
“Diana St. Clair and Professor Tao weren’t the only times Ethan cheated, you know. There were others. I just didn’t want to face it.” Maddox looked down. “There were women at the soup kitchen we volunteered at. He took a close interest in some of them. For his thesis, he said. But some of them… some of them never showed up again. I always wondered-” She bit her lip, struggling to control her emotions.
Jerry sat up, alarmed. “You didn’t tell Torrance this yet, did you?”
“They’re just suspicions.” Maddox finally crumpled. She put her face in her hands as a sob escaped her throat. “I loved him. I still love him.”
Nothing made Jerry feel worse than to watch a woman cry. Especially one as beautiful and as vulnerable as this one. “Easy now. It’s going to be all right, you’ll see.” He stood up and took her gently by the arm. “Come on, let’s see if we can’t rustle you up some type of drinkable beverage. And this is a cop shop, no way there’s not a doughnut or muffin somewhere. If we can’t find any tea, maybe we can put our heads together and figure out how to make a cup of coffee that doesn’t taste like sewage.”
The young woman lifted her tear-streaked face. She took a few breaths to calm herself until the sobs subsided. “You’re very sweet. Thank you.” She turned and headed for the break room. Jerry followed, trying not to stare at her ass, firm and ripe and perfect under the tight jeans she wore.
“It’s quiet here.” Maddox looked back over her shoulder, and Jerry averted his gaze immediately. “Is it normally like this?”
“Depends. A lot of the available officers are assisting in your boyfriend’s arrest.”
“Oh. Right.”
They entered the small break room and Jerry looked around with a sigh. The smelly old couch sat against one wall, and an old television was mounted in the corner of the ceiling. The volume was low and it was playing a late-night infomercial for an exercise machine that was guaranteed to flatten your stomach in only six weeks. The sink was filled with dirty mugs, and crumbs were all over the counter. To the right of the sink, a soiled bread knife lay beside an opened bag of bagels. The room was a pigsty, not much better than a frat house.
“Sit,” Jerry said, pointing to the small table and chairs in the corner. “I’ll make the tea.”
He started opening the cupboards, his back to her, pawing through the mounds of crap inside. He could swear some of it was still here from when he’d retired three years ago. “Bingo!” He reached for a box of Earl Grey tea. A name was scrawled in black marker on the side. “You’re in luck. This is Detective Kellogg’s, but I’m sure she won’t mind.”
Behind him, Maddox sighed. “She felt sorry for me, I could tell. I bet she’d never fall for someone like Ethan. She’s too smart for that.”
Jerry thought it best to keep his thoughts about the perky Kellogg to himself. He reached for the kettle and turned on the faucet. “Ethan Wolfe is a smart guy. And a very good liar. He strikes me as the kind of person who could fool anyone.”
“You’re being kind. It’s pretty obvious I was an idiot. Looking back now, there were so many signs. I just can’t believe I didn’t see them for what they were.”
Jerry plugged the kettle into the outlet and bustled over to the fridge to look for some milk. “Like what?” he said, bending over. His nose wrinkled as he pushed some of the contents around. The fridge didn’t smell too good.
“Like when Diana died,” Maddox said. “He was her TA, but he didn’t even seem bothered by it. Considering he was the one who sliced her throat, you’d think he’d have reacted in some way. But he was like stone. It was like he felt nothing. That should have told me something.”
Jerry froze, his hand on a small container of milk he’d found stashed near the back of the fridge. Did she just say that Diana St. Clair’s throat was slashed? His mind flew back to his conversation with Mike Torrance at the Golden Monkey the week before, when his ex-partner had specifically told him that this detail had been omitted from all their press releases.
So how could Abby Maddox know about it?
The kettle whistled. He straightened up slowly, clutching the milk container in his hand. Heading to the counter, he unplugged the kettle and went about the business of fixing them both a cup of tea. His back to her, Jerry said casually, “Where’d you hear that? About her throat being slit?”
A full five seconds of silence.
Then in a soft voice she said, “I think I read it somewhere.”
Bullshit.
Jerry rapidly dunked the tea bags into both their mugs, his mind racing. The police definitely hadn’t released that detail to the media. No way in hell Maddox could know about it. Unless Wolfe had told her. Unless she’d been there when he’d done it. Did she know more than she was telling? What was she hiding? Maybe she knew all along that Wolfe had committed the murders, but she was afraid for her own life if she told anyone. Maybe-
Before his thoughts could fully form, Maddox was right behind him.
Her slender arms encircled his waist and he could feel her head leaning softly against his back. “Jerry.” Her voice had dropped to a throaty whisper and she pulled him closer. “Thank you for being here with me. You’re really helping me through this night, and I appreciate it more than words. I don’t know what I’d do if you weren’t here.”
Jerry stiffened in surprise, almost knocking over one of the mugs. “Uh… Miss Maddox…” He put his dark hands on top of her milky white forearms. “I don’t think-”
Before he could finish his sentence, her hand was under his chin. Her wrist jerked hard, just once.
As the bread knife slid into his throat, like a Ginsu cutting into a steak, Jerry had one last thought before he lost consciousness.
How could I have been so fucking stupid?