Dead Wrong (11 page)

* * *

Mitch leaned on the wall of his small living room while Princess curled at his feet. He cast a wary eye at Angie as she wolfed down a turkey sandwich and chips. She sat on the sofa next to Kat, who was studying Angie intently. Not that there was much of Angie to see.

She was thin, so thin, but then food took second place to paying for drugs and getting high. Like she was right now. Her eyes glassy. Pupils dilated. Her skin, once soft and peachy, was now sallow and dirty.

His heart broke from the pain. Pain for her. Pain for himself for failing her. Pain for God allowing this.

She finished the last bite of her sandwich. Time to get the show on the road. He went to sit across from her. “So you want to get clean?”

She nodded and took a long drink of her soda, the ice cubes clinking on the glass as her hands trembled.

“Then we should get you checked into rehab.”

She leaned back. “Not tonight, man. I need a good night’s sleep first.”

Here come the excuses. “You can sleep at the clinic.”

“Are you kidding? With all the noise in that place?”

“You can’t stay here tonight.” Mitch tried to sound firm, but he could hear the uncertainty in his tone.

“What? Why not?”

He took Angie’s hands. They were cold and clammy. “You know what happened last time we tried this.”

“But that won’t happen again. I promise, Mitch. I won’t do it again.”

But she would. Always did. She couldn’t resist stealing from him when the craving for drugs got too strong. “I’m sorry, Angie, but either we go to rehab tonight or you hit the road.” He cast a quick look at Kat and saw disappointment. That hurt almost as much as this conversation with his sister.

She sank to the floor and put her hands on his knees. The cold penetrated his jeans. How could he send his sister out into weather like this? Only a heartless person could do that. Well, maybe his heart had hardened enough, and he was heartless now.

“Please.” She begged not just with her words but also with her eyes like a sad little puppy. “Just one night. I’m only asking for one night.” Tears formed in eyes so like his, he couldn’t look at her anymore and stay strong.

He rose and crossed the room to get away before he caved. Seeing her reminded him of the months after their dad had died and Mitch comforted her when their mother was too distraught to do so. The days he made sure she had food to eat when their mother was too sick to cook. Nights he’d held her when they were both so lonely for their parents.

Angie came after him and tugged on his arm. “Don’t do that, Mitchy. It’s me. Your little bug. Remember when you used to call me that?”

He’d never forgotten, but this woman in front of him wasn’t his little bug. She was hardly even his sister. “I only have one spare bedroom, and with the way the roads are getting, I think Kat will need to stay there tonight.”

“Oh, no, you don’t.” Kat jumped up. “Don’t use me as an excuse to turn her out.” She crossed over to Angie and put a protective arm around her shoulder. “If I have to stay, she can share the room with me.”

“See,” Angie said, her voice hopeful. “Even your friend agrees that I should stay.”

Mitch gave Kat a thanks-a-lot glare.

“I’ll go take a shower and get cleaned up to give you time to think about it.” Angie took off down the hallway, her steps confident and secure. She was biding time because history said if he didn’t get her to leave right away, he’d eventually agree to let her stay.

He rubbed a hand over his face as if he could erase the problem. A problem he’d been dealing with on and off for fifteen years now.

Kat stepped in front of him. “You’re doing the right thing, Mitch. She needs you.”

“What do you know about this?” he snapped out and hated how harsh he sounded. “Your brothers and sister are all decent law-abiding citizens. Not drug addicts waiting to con you out of your house and home if it’ll get them their next fix. And then making you feel guilty when you try to stop enabling them.”

Kat looked up at him, compassion on her face. “But she said she wants to get clean and she sounds so sincere.”

“You were once a cop. How many times did you hear that from junkies on the street?”

“More times than I can count, but this isn’t some junkie on the street, Mitch.” She paused and held his gaze. “This is your sister.”

“Right now, yes, she’s my sister. But tomorrow she’ll be that junkie again.”

“It’ll be fine, Mitch.” Kat laid a hand on his arm, and the warmth penetrated his sleeve. Maybe his heart. “You should let her stay.”

“I want to. Believe me I want to. But...” He let his thought drift off before he made another mistake with Angie.

“I’ll help you with her,” Kat offered.

“What?”

“Tonight. I’ll stay here with the two of you. If there’re any problems with her, I’ll help in any way you need.”

He looked into Kat’s sincere gaze, and he couldn’t hold out any longer.

“Fine,” he said though something inside warned him not to.

Thanks to Kat, his sister could spend the night.

No, that wasn’t fair. Even if Kat hadn’t been here giving him hope that Angie would change, he still needed to believe she could. The day he stopped believing his sister could return to a normal life, would be a day he’d rather not live to see.

ELEVEN

K
at woke to sun streaming through the bedroom window. Maybe this was a sign that today would be a good day. She looked at her cell phone.

Oh, no.

Her alarm hadn’t gone off. She should’ve gotten up two hours ago. She couldn’t believe she’d slept at all, but she had. Deeply. And now she might be too late to go with Mitch to see Nathan’s boss.

She jumped out of bed, and hearing low murmurs drifting down the hall, she decided to see what she’d missed. She slipped into her robe and slippers that Dani had tossed in her suitcase yesterday and Mitch had retrieved from his car. She smiled over the memory from last night when a clean Angie had emerged from the bathroom looking more normal. And of Mitch, wrapping those powerful arms around his sister as if welcoming home the prodigal son.

Kat’s heart took a leap at his caring—she would never forget the look in his eyes. The softness. The warmth. The love. Maybe because if she searched deep enough inside, she’d admit she wanted him to look at her the same way.

She padded down the hall, her slippers whispering over the wooden floor. She found Mitch alone in the kitchen seated at a round table and talking on the phone.

He turned, his eyes angry and worried at the same time. He put a hand over the phone. “I made coffee. Mugs are in the cupboard above the pot.”

She poured a cup, but opted not to join him at the little table. Too small a space for the emotions radiating off him. She leaned against the counter and watched.

He wore jeans again and a dark green shirt, tailored at the waist and emphasizing his broad shoulders. His hair, still damp in the back, curled over the collar.

“Sorry I slept so late,” she said when he glanced at her again.

“The roads were too slippery to go out anyway.” He met her gaze. “Besides, you needed to sleep.”

“And what about you? Did you get any rest?”

He held up a finger and went back to his call. “Are you sure?” he asked, those strong shoulders pulling back as he listened to his caller. “Well, thanks for checking.” He hung up and stood, sending the chair crashing into the wall. “Angie’s gone. I’d hoped she’d decided to check herself into a clinic but I’ve called all of them in the area. No one has seen her.”

“I’m sorry, Mitch,” Kat said, feeling her apology wasn’t enough after she’d been the one to convince him to let his sister stay the night.

He shrugged, but the pain remained in his eyes. “It’s nothing that hasn’t happened before. At least she didn’t empty my wallet this time.”

“I’m still sorry.” Thinking a touch on the arm might help, she took a few steps toward him, but stopped when a shutter dropped over his eyes.

“I made an appointment with Weichert,” he said, his voice all business now.

“Did Tommy come through with the warrant yet?”

“Not yet. I’m hoping he’ll call before we actually get in to see Weichert.”

“We? Does that mean you’re not going to argue about me coming with you?”

“No, and I also made sure Cole’s fine with you joining me if you want to.”

“Yes, of course,” she answered quickly and ignored that nagging irritation over the two of them deciding what she could or could not do.

“Good. FYI, the only way Cole agreed to this was if Derrick tails us for added security. You okay with that?”

No, but she nodded agreement or they wouldn’t let her make the trip.

“We need to get out of here in thirty minutes if we’re going to be on time.”

“I’ll get ready.” With only thirty minutes, she hurried through her shower. She dressed in black pants and a brightly striped shirt that matched the colors of the bruises on her face. With Mitch waiting, she didn’t take the time to cover them with makeup, but she would do so in the car. She grabbed her jacket and dropped her cell into her purse, then went back down the hall.

Mitch was still in the kitchen looking at his computer. When she entered the room, he arched a brow. “That was quick.”

“You said I had thirty minutes.”

“I know I said that, but I really didn’t expect you’d do it.” He grinned, the smile devastatingly attractive.

“So is that your commentary on women taking too long to get ready?” she asked, liking the change in his mood.

He nodded and came toward her, the smile still in place. He stood toe to toe with her and studied her face before running his finger along her jaw. “Your injuries are healing nicely.”

His touch was soft and intimate and words failed her. He bent closer as if he was going to kiss her. She waited for his mouth to descend, instinctively knowing it would be the best kiss of her life. A kiss that spoke of the way they’d connected over the past few days. The way they could connect in the future.

The future.
That’s what she should be thinking about. Not kissing a man she’d never let into her life.

“We’re gonna be late.” She backed up and disappointment clouded his eyes, making it even harder to walk away, but she did. She heard him take a deep breath behind her as they walked to the door.

He stepped outside, surveying the area, then giving her clearance to exit. She focused on the glorious sunshine so foreign at this time of year and let the soft breeze chase out the remnants of his touch. They went straight to his car and as Mitch pulled onto the road, they passed Derrick sitting at the curb in his SUV.

They rode silently though the city and nearing their stop, her phone trilled. She opened her purse to retrieve it and found a mess. Someone had rifled through her bag.

Angie?
She hoped not.

Mitch had said she hadn’t taken his money, but what about hers? She ignored the phone and opened her wallet in the confines of her purse so Mitch couldn’t see. No cash. No credit cards. Angie had indeed struck.

How did she tell Mitch about this?

She glanced at him.

“Everything okay?” He smiled warmly at her, and she knew she couldn’t tell him how his sister had once again betrayed his trust. Once they got to their appointment, she’d find a way to call and report her credit cards stolen without Mitch overhearing. And that would be the end of this.

“Everything will be just fine,” she answered and grabbed her phone to check voice mail. Cole wanted her to know he approved of this outing. He added that he trusted Mitch, but he still wanted to remind her to be careful and not take any chances. Not like Cole at all to be so laid back. He had to have an ulterior motive, but what could it be?

She sighed.

“Problem?” Mitch asked.

“Actually no. Cole just wanted to tell me to be careful.”

“So why the big sigh?”

“He has to be up to something. I expected him to grill me about the plans today and insist on accompanying me, but nothing.”

“As I mentioned, we worked out the details already so he didn’t need to grill you.” Mitch smiled, but it lacked any real conviction as he turned back to the road.

He checked the mirrors and his watchful expression reminded her that despite their precautions he was still concerned for her safety. The killer could be waiting for her when she got out of the car. He’d tried to end her life not just once, but three times now and there was no reason to think he’d give up until he completed his mission.

* * *

Mitch stood in the reception area outside Weichert’s office and watched Kat make a phone call on the other side of the room. She claimed it was too loud with the children and parents chatting near him, but he got the feeling she wanted some privacy.

Not that he minded. He was in a foul mood, and didn’t want to take it out on her. He shouldn’t let the situation with Angie get to him. After all, he’d expected her to bail again. So why did it always hurt so much?

Without warning, Kat looked at him and instead of being surprised at catching him watching her, she smiled. A soft, intimate smile that he’d wanted to see directed at him. He returned it without thinking of the message he might be transmitting and let the warmth envelop him. She was quite a woman. She’d faced terrible times and came out stronger with her faith intact. She was a role model for him, and he was falling for her. Falling hard.

Is that why You brought us together, Lord?

It was the first time in a long time that he’d even wanted to ask God a question. All because of Kat. Adorable Kat who now crossed the space, her eyes never leaving his.

They were in public—children, parents and staff members milling around—and he only had eyes for her. And she didn’t seem to mind. His heart tripped faster. He felt as if he should say something, but what did he say?

I’m falling for you, but I can’t do anything about it?

Can’t or won’t?
the uninvited thought popped into his head.

“Detective.” Weichert’s nasal voice came from behind and Kat’s good mood vanished, as did Mitch’s.

He signaled for her to follow Weichert who spun on perfectly polished shoes. Her expression as she passed Mitch said she was thankful for the interruption. He was, too, wasn’t he?

Weichert stared blankly at them in his office after they all took a seat. “I presume you have your court order.”

“Actually,” Mitch said, planning to give Weichert an opportunity to confess to his knowledge of the threatening client before he had to drag it out of him. “We have a few questions first.”

“What kind of questions?” Weichert crossed his arms leaving Mitch wary. After the morning dealing with Angie’s betrayal, he wasn’t up for a contentious interview, but it looked like he was about to get one.

“Did Bodig work with a client named Paul, father named Ray?” Mitch asked, forcing neutrality into his tone and watching Weichert for any reaction. A flicker of surprise flashed in his eyes, the response a man with something to hide would have.

“I don’t remember a client with that name, but let me check.” He turned to his credenza and pecked slowly at his keyboard with one finger. He’d typed much faster yesterday. He was avoiding them. Either stalling for time to come up with a lie about Paul or hiding his emotions so they couldn’t tell he was evading them.

Mitch needed to apply a little more pressure. “We’re waiting, Weichert.”

The man’s shoulders tensed, and he hit Enter. “I don’t see a Paul.”

“How far back are you looking?” Mitch asked, starting to lose patience.

“The last ninety days as you requested on your prior visit.” His voice was syrupy sweet, his focus still on the screen.

Despite his frustration, Mitch would give him one more time to come clean before showing him the email and demanding a truthful answer. “And you’re certain there’s no Paul?”

“I’m certain.” Weichert glanced back at him.

“Mind if I take a look?” Mitch slid forward acting as if he intended to take over.

Weichert spun, blocking access to the monitor. “These are sensitive records, and I can’t let just anybody view them. Not without that court order.”

“Suppose I gave you a court order. Would I see a Paul on the client list?”

“I’ve already told you there’s no client named Paul.”

“If that’s true, how do you explain this?” Mitch took the evidence bag holding the threat from his jacket pocket and slammed it on the desk.

Weichert picked up the bag and studied the email, his face paling. “This has to be some sort of mistake.”

“Then why was it in Bodig’s files at his house?” Mitch demanded.

“I don’t know.” Weichert’s voice rose as if he was going to lose it. “I can’t explain it.”

“Perhaps your report is wrong. Computers aren’t infallible,” Kat jumped in, her soft tone contrasting nicely with Mitch’s harsh demand. Hopefully it would make Weichert finally admit his knowledge of Paul.

“Perhaps,” he mumbled.

“Maybe you should check with your staff to see if they know anything about this.” Kat smiled, and Weichert relaxed a bit.

“I can do that,” he said but stared ahead.

“Now,” Mitch commanded.

“Yes, of course.” He logged off his computer and hurried out of the office.

Mitch looked at Kat. “I appreciate your giving Weichert the chance to think about this, but it’s time we face facts. He’s not going to talk without that court order.”

“Shouldn’t Tommy have gotten that to you by now?” Kat asked.

Mitch dug out his phone and thumbed through his call log just to be sure he hadn’t missed one. “Nothing. Worst part now is Weichert knows we’re on to him and could destroy records to save his hide.”

“You could request an officer to keep an eye on him until we get the order.”

Mitch saw Weichert returning so he tipped his head at the door. “I’ll give him a stern warning, and we’ll see how he reacts before committing any resources to watching him.”

Weichert didn’t take his chair, but stood by the door and crossed his arms. “No one in the office knows of a Paul and Ray. But I have a few caseworkers out in the field today so I’ll follow up with them.”

“This is urgent, Weichert,” Mitch said.

“I understand. I’ll get a hold of them as soon as I can.” He smiled, but it was shaky and totally false. “Now, unless you can produce that court order, the weather has messed up our schedules here, and I need to get to work.”

Mitch stood and locked gazes with Weichert. “We’ll be back with that order. Until then let’s be clear on one thing. The email strongly suggests there’s a client named Paul in your database and for whatever reason you’re not willing to admit it. If you’re contemplating destroying records of any kind, that would be grounds for criminal charges. I’m pretty sure you don’t want us to file charges against you.”

Weichert paled. “No. No. Of course not.”

Mitch gave him one last withering look then followed Kat down the hall. “Think we need to send an officer out here?” he asked as they crossed the lobby.

“No.”

“Do you have a minute, Detective?” The voice came from behind and Mitch turned to find a short, rotund male hurrying into the lobby from the same door they’d just come through.

“Are you by any chance investigating Nathan Bodig’s death?” he asked when he reached them. They nodded in confirmation.

“And you are?” Mitch asked, studying the man.