Dying To Play. Debra Webb. Читать онлайн. Newlib. NEWLIB.NET

Автор: Debra Webb
Издательство: HarperCollins
Серия:
Жанр произведения: Современная зарубежная литература
Год издания: 0
isbn:
Скачать книгу
Bramm’s office today. “Thanks. You look terrific yourself.” Clearing her mind of the too personal, too unpleasant thoughts, Elaine focused on the older woman. She did look good. Damn good for a lady closer to seventy than sixty.

      Kathleen adopted a knowing expression. “Your mother called. Said she’d been trying to track you down all morning. Your office told her you were over here.”

      Elaine had set her cell to vibrate that morning so as not to be disturbed. “Thanks, Kathleen. I’ll call her right away.”

      “See that you do.” A secret smile stole across the woman’s lips. “I’d better get back to the office. Dr. Damron can’t find a thing without me. Have a nice day!”

      Elaine pushed out into the bright May morning and redirected her thoughts to the case. She’d call her mother when she had some privacy. Right now she had a few questions for Callahan.

      

      He waited by her Jeep. When he caught sight of her he slipped what was clearly an unlit cigarette back into his jacket pocket. The guy had definitely picked a bad time to quit smoking. She quashed the trickle of sympathy. He didn’t deserve her sympathy just yet. And as long as he played devil’s advocate at every opportunity on this case he wouldn’t earn her trust or respect, either.

      “What’s the deal, Callahan?” She walked up next to him and folded her arms over her chest, opting not to lean against her vehicle, since it still badly needed that washing and in part because she wanted him to see that she was annoyed.

      He lifted one shoulder in a negligent shrug. “What do you mean?”

      Okay, so she’d dismissed his every conclusion yesterday. Was he going to hold out on her today? If getting to her was his plan, he’d done a bang-up job so far. She didn’t like this. Didn’t like it one bit. Henshaw didn’t work this way; she didn’t work this way.

      “Tell me what you’re thinking.”

      That analyzing gaze locked on to hers then, sending a shiver down her spine despite her best efforts to resist the reaction.

      “Why?” he tossed back. “So you can pick apart my theories?”

      She shoved a handful of hair behind her ear and puffed out a lungful of frustration. “Look, this isn’t going to work.” She planted her hands on her hips and glared at him. “You’re supposed to be working with me not against me. Partners, remember?”

      That ghostlike smile that haunted one corner of his carnal mouth and got to her like nothing else could made an appearance. “And here I thought you’d forgotten our little deal.” The smile vanished and those piercing blue eyes turned ice-cold. “I’m not here to make you look good, Jentzen. And I’m damn sure not here to parlay theories for the learning experience or the moral support of the team. I want one thing and one thing only…to bring this guy down.”

      Fury detonated on a cellular level, sending tension radiating along every single nerve ending. So he’d spent the night deciding he wanted to play by his own rules. “By guy I assume you mean your old nemesis the Gamekeeper.”

      His jaw tightened visibly. “That’s right.”

      “Get in.”

      He looked surprised at her ferocious tone.

      “Where to, partner?” If his tone hadn’t been facetious enough, his expression left no doubt as to how he felt. He hated being stuck with her, having to bend to her wishes.

      “Just get in.”

      Elaine climbed behind the wheel of her Jeep, anger making her movements stiff. Without uttering another word she drove straight to the only place she could be certain of two things, they wouldn’t be bothered and the territory would be considered neutral by both parties.

      Jimmy’s Pub was a bit off the beaten path, on Cone Street in downtown Atlanta. But being a third-generation cop, Elaine knew the right places to go for anonymity as well as camaraderie. Though Jimmy’s was best known for its beer and old-fashioned-style burgers, the doors opened at ten every morning for the early lunchers. Or maybe just to make sure cops had a reliable place to go and discuss business that required distance from the office or nosy colleagues.

      

      “Burger and a cola,” she told the waiter who paused at their table the moment they sat down. If his T-shirt was any indication the guy was a student at a local university. His jeans were well-worn, and he had that harried look of a full-time student, part-time employee, working hard to balance his schedule with homework commitments and the undying hope for a decent social life.

      Callahan looked to her for counsel. “Try it,” she told him. “The burgers here are the best.” She lifted a skeptical eyebrow. “Unless, of course, you’re a vegetarian.”

      “I’ll have the same,” Callahan said to the waiter who nodded and moved on.

      Patronage at the pub was light today. The main lunch crowd wouldn’t filter in until after noon, she imagined. That was one of the primary reasons Elaine preferred to skip breakfast and go for an early lunch, it cut wait time down to half. She didn’t recognize any of the patrons seated around the large dining area or at the long bar. Good. That way she didn’t have to worry about anyone horning into the conversation. She thought immediately of Flatt and Jillette and how they no doubt waited in the wings for an opportunity to try and take this case from her. Then again, she considered, why the hell didn’t she just let them have it?

      “Why did you ask Walt about stress and fatigue?” She cut to the chase, pushing worries about her two disloyal colleagues to the back burner. “You have to know how difficult it is to judge those kinds of indicators with any real accuracy.”

      To Callahan’s credit he didn’t look away. He held her gaze, but he did keep his expression carefully blank of what he might or might not be thinking.

      

      “It’s his MO,” he said flatly.

      Surprised, Elaine offered, “The Gamekeeper’s?”

      Callahan nodded. “He picks his targets, then he wears them down until they feel they have no choice but to do his bidding. They just don’t have what it takes to keep fighting the inevitable.”

      She studied him a moment, tried to determine if he was ready for her to hit him with the big guns. No way to know. Only one way to find out. “So you think the beauty salon murders as well as the ones at the bank yesterday are all tied to this Gamekeeper?”

      He nodded again, his posture visibly braced for her arguments.

      “But how? We don’t have the first lick of evidence to even connect the two.” This was nuts. Sure there was that one glaring similarity. Both shooters had walked into a place of business and killed for no apparent reason. Still, that was only one link. Were all drive-by shootings in urban areas connected merely because they were carried out in the same manner? Definitely not.

      “There’s your link,” he offered with absolutely no hesitation. “He likes it that way.”

      Elaine shook her head in renewed frustration. “I’m going to need more than that, Callahan.”

      The waiter stopped at their table long enough to deposit two sweating glasses of cola. “Burgers’ll be out in a couple minutes.”

      Elaine hastily thanked him so he’d move on and Callahan would start talking again.

      “Think about your shooters,” he told her, his gaze boring into hers. “Both were on their way up. Had the world by the tail. Their lives were seemingly perfect. Why would they do this? Why throw everything away?”

      “We wouldn’t be sitting here if I knew the answer to that,” she snapped. “Get to the point.”

      “That’s what the Gamekeeper does. He selects those who have everything going for them, the cream of the crop, then he lures them in. He likes the challenge.”

      “And