It was that ease, that immediate intimacy they had felt when he first took her hand that enthralled him. He was pushing forty, too old to be deceived by his hormones. Abby had invaded his heart. Whether it was magic or a miracle didn't matter. It was enough that it had happened.
The early morning air was moist with the promise of a warm day. His clothes dried out by the time he got home, courtesy of the top-down ride. Tuffy greeted him when he walked inside, sniffing and nudging, puzzled by the latent scents of rotweiller and woman Mason carried.
He left again at 7:30 to pick up Jordan, focusing more on the day ahead than the night just past. He had cautioned Abby about the unlikely odds of Jordan being her daughter and the mixed blessing it could prove to be if she were. Centurion, though, was the greater danger for Abby and Jordan.
Centurion might forget Jordan's sexual snub, knowing that he could replace her easily enough. Should she complain of his crude effort, he would deny it, relying on his greater credibility and her admitted unreliability as a defense. If he suspected that Jordan found the cocaine, he wouldn't forget that. Even if he cleaned house well enough that a drug-sniffing dog would hyperventilate before finding anything, Centurion couldn't tolerate the allegation or the scrutiny. That meant Jordan was in danger, as was anyone protecting her, including Abby.
Mason decided not to raise this problem with Abby or Jordan until after he talked with Samantha Greer and Centurion. Both demanded that he bring Jordan to them. He would do it for Samantha but not Centurion. Centurion wouldn't believe any explanation Mason would give him except the truth, and that was the last thing Mason would tell him.
Chapter 16
Samantha Greer didn't look like a homicide cop pulling a Saturday morning shift. Her hair, normally an afterthought, had a fresh wave. Her makeup, usually understated, was upgraded with eye shadow and pink lipstick. She toyed with the third button on her blouse, undecided whether to keep it buttoned. Mason wondered if she had a date or wanted one.
Their relationship had been casual but satisfying for Mason. He'd never pretended to be operating on anything other than friendship and need. When Samantha let him know that she wanted and needed something more, he'd backed off, taking refuge in his own shortcomings as an excuse to let their affair die of neglect. He'd been relieved when she stopped calling. They had stepped gingerly back to being professional friends and he didn't want to reverse course, especially after last night.
Mason had left Jordan in an interrogation room with strict instructions that she was not to be questioned outside his presence. He made the speech for the benefit of the officer keeping her company and for Jordan, whose last protective veneer of anger had been stripped away by her brother's murder. She was tentative and jittery, making him reluctant to leave her alone until she forced a smile, said she understood and would be fine.
Sitting next to Samantha's desk in the homicide bullpen, Mason hoped she would leave the third button alone. The last thing he wanted was for her to watch his eyes wander. In spite of everything, he knew they would, even though the rest of him would stay put.
"Okay, Lou," she began. "Are you going to let me question your client?"
"No. You told me to bring her in and I did. Now we're ready to go." He didn't get up, knowing that Samantha wouldn't let him off that easy.
"We found her prints in Trent's office."
"Are you going to arrest everyone else whose prints you found? They were brother and sister. Their parents owned the building. There were lots of reasons she could have been in Trent's office."
"Of course there are. I'm sure Jordan could give me a few if you let her talk to me," Samantha said, her fingers absently straying to her third button, easing it out of the hole.
"Tempting, but not tempting enough," Mason said. "It's hard to stop after getting started."
Samantha thumbed her button back in place, turning the pages of the report on Trent Hackett's murder with a pencil eraser. "The coroner says he was hit over the head with everyone's favorite weapon-the blunt instrument-and knocked unconscious. Then the killer slammed his head into the computer monitor, lacerating his jugular vein. He bled out."
"I haven't seen a murder yet that was pretty," Mason said.
"Two vicious murders in the same building in the same week-not to mention the rather clumsy attempt to kill you-is a little out of the ordinary. Particularly when your client is tied to both victims."
"On that logic, she should be a suspect in the elevator case," Mason said, not willing to christen that investigation with his own name.
Samantha said, "She would be if she hadn't been busy confessing to killing Gina Davenport at the same time you were auditioning for Fear Factor."
Mason shrugged, pretending nonchalance at the casual discussion of his attempted murder. "Most unhappy clients just fire me. It's a lot less trouble than killing me. What have you got on the elevator?"
"A dead suspect. Trent Hackett and his father were the only people with access to the control room and Carol Hackett alibis her husband. I'm closing the book on the elevator. Don't piss off anyone else."
"At least I can quit taking the stairs," Mason said.
"Why would Trent have tried to kill you?" Samantha asked.
"Jordan told me about the rape. Maybe Trent knew I would come after him. Maybe that explains Gina Davenport's murder too."
"Maybe, but it doesn't explain Trent's," Samantha said.
"So the circle remains unbroken," Mason said. "I know you've got more reasons that I should let you talk to Jordan. I'm not going to let you, but lay them out anyway. I had a long night and would like to take the rest of the day off."
"That's not the way it works. The gate swings both ways. You let me talk with Jordan, and I'll tell you what I know."
Mason said, "I don't need to know what you know unless you charge her, and you would have done that when we walked in if you had enough for the prosecuting attorney. I'll do this much. I'll give you good reasons to look at a few other people before you come down on Jordan."
"Such as?"
"Such as Arthur Hackett. Jordan told Gina Davenport that Trent had raped her. That's a crime, not a story. Gina was trying to get out of her contract with Hackett. That's why she cut off Jordan's treatment. Arthur would-n't let her go, so Gina upped the ante. She threatened to turn Trent in for raping Jordan. Arthur knew Gina was gone when her contract expired even if he didn't release her. He had a five-million-dollar insurance policy on her and a son to protect. That's better than nothing."
"It's not good enough. Why would he kill his son?"
"Who knows? You met the kid. Would you have wanted your daughter to bring him home? Maybe Arthur blamed Trent for the whole mess."
"Is that all you've got-a father who kills his daughter's therapist to cash in and kills his son to tie up the loose ends?"
Mason stood. "That's more than a jury will need to acquit Jordan, but you might want to try this one too. You found cocaine in Gina's office the night she was killed. Her husband Robert is a coke-head who likes to bang his student models. Centurion Johnson is still in the trade, in spite of his refurbished not-for-profit-savethe-kids-and-the-world bullshit. He raised Jordan's Sanctuary rent to include sex. She wasn't interested and split. Before she did, she found a drawer full of cocaine in Centurion's bedroom. If I had all the resources of the police department at my disposal, I'd find out if Centurion was supplying Robert and if he was, how and why that cocaine ended up in Gina's office."