“No, as a matter of fact, it’s not a bad idea, given the circumstances.” Spears tipped her head to the side. “You don’t agree?”
“Seems overboard to put security on the whole team. But whatever. I’m not paying the bill.”
Spears watched her, and Kira could tell she wasn’t buying her nonchalant act.
Diaz flipped open a notebook. “We want to know if you’ve noticed any suspicious persons hanging around lately. Maybe near your home or office?”
“My office? No.”
“You’re sure?”
“Yes.”
“What about phone calls or messages?” he continued. “Any suspicious vehicles following you?”
“No. Why?” She looked at Spears.
“Ollie’s office was hit,” she said.
“What do you mean, ‘hit’?”
“Ransacked.”
“Someone trashed it,” Diaz said. “They were looking for something, and we don’t know whether they found it.”
An icy trickle of fear slid down Kira’s spine. “When did this happen?”
“We just learned about it,” he said. “We don’t know when it happened, but we’re checking with nearby businesses to see if anyone heard or saw anything.”
“It leads us to wonder,” Spears said, “if Ollie might have been the true target of last night’s attack. Not Logan, as we originally thought.”
Kira stared at her. She’d assumed this was all about Brock Logan. He was the one whose name was in the news all the time.
“We think maybe Ollie Kovak had something, or maybe he knew something . . .” Diaz trailed off, as if he expected Kira to fill in the blank.
“Something that got him killed,” she stated.
Diaz nodded.
“Any thoughts?” Spears asked.
“I have no idea.”
“Did he have any enemies that you know of? People who’d threatened him or might have a grudge?”
“Sure,” Kira said. “Try every cheating husband he ever tracked down.”
“I thought he did criminal defense work,” Spears said.
“He does now, but he started out with domestic cases and insurance fraud, like most of us do. Still works a case like that from time to time if he gets a special request.”
Diaz flipped a page in his notebook. “Ms. Vance, back to the shooter. Can you be sure he isn’t someone you’ve seen before? Maybe while going about your normal routine?”
“I told you. I didn’t recognize him.”
“We’d like you to sit down with a sketch artist,” Spears said, “and see if we can get a more detailed description.”
“I keep telling you, I barely saw the guy. Caucasian, sunglasses, hoodie. That’s all I saw. Any sketch is going to look like the Unabomber.”
Spears nodded. “Nevertheless, we’d like to try. We have confidence in our artist.”
“You’ve known Ollie, what? Five or six years?” Diaz asked her.
“Yes.”
“And he personally mentored you after you got your PI’s license, am I right?”
“What’s your point?”
He shrugged. “Just that I’d think you’d want to help us catch the person or persons responsible for his homicide.”
His copspeak was starting to grate on her nerves. And she didn’t appreciate the guilt trip.
Kira closed her eyes and took a deep breath. They were doing their jobs, and it wasn’t their fault her nerves were raw today.
“Of course, I want to help however I can,” she said. “I just don’t know what you want me to tell an artist. The guy was jogging in the rain, and I really only saw him for a second. But if you think it might be helpful—”
“We do.” Spears pushed her chair back. “We’ll set it up and get back to you with a time.”
“Wait.” Kira reached for her messenger bag. She pulled out Ollie’s cell phone and slid it across the table. It still had blood smears on it, and the detectives were instantly riveted.
Spears leaned closer. “Is that—”
“Ollie’s phone,” Kira said.
“I thought it was stolen. Logan told us their phones were taken from the kitchen with the laptops.”
“That was probably a burner,” Kira told her. “Ollie kept a bunch of phones. He was always juggling numbers.”
“Why?” Diaz asked.
“PI work. You don’t always want someone to know who’s on the other end.”
“Why didn’t you give us this last night?” Spears asked.
“I forgot I had it.”
Her gaze narrowed with suspicion. “Do you have the passcode?”
“No.”
The door opened, and a uniformed officer leaned her head in. “Diaz, the captain wants to see you.”
He shot a look at his partner and left the room.
“Did you try to unlock it?” Spears asked.
“I told you, I don’t know his code.”
Not really an answer, and she could tell the detective noticed.
“Well, thank you,” Spears said. “This is potentially very useful.”
The detective stood, clearly eager to end the meeting so she could get the phone to some techie who might be able to crack it.
“We’ll call you with an appointment time,” she said. “It’ll probably be this evening.”
Kira shouldered her bag, thinking about the report she’d promised Brock. He wanted an update on Ollie’s big break, and Kira still knew absolutely nothing about it. She didn’t relish the prospect of dancing around questions with a veteran trial attorney.
“This evening’s no good. I’m slammed,” Kira said. “It’ll have to be tomorrow.”
“Early, then. The sooner the better.” She gave Kira a sharp look. “In the meantime, be careful.”
“I will.”
“And I wouldn’t turn down that security detail if I were you.”
CHAPTER SIX
DIAZ CAUGHT up to Charlotte as she left the squad room.
“Where are we headed?” he asked.
“To twist some arms,” Charlotte said. “What did the captain want?”
“Ballistics came back on the Kovak murder. The weapon is a Beretta nine-mil, but no hits from those shell casings.”
Charlotte stepped into the concrete stairwell. It smelled like BO, but she’d learned to ignore it. She’d been taking the stairs lately in an effort to squeeze in extra cardio because she never seemed to find time to get to the gym.
“Not surprising the gun’s not in the system, right?” Diaz said behind her. “Guy used a suppressor and wore a ski mask, so sounds like maybe a pro.”
“I’m not sure about that. Four shots and only two hits? Half our rookies could beat that.”
They reached the ground level and cut through booking before stepping outside, where a wall of hot air hit them. Charlotte’s silk T-shirt was damp by the time she reached her car.
“What do you think of Kira Vance?” Diaz asked, sliding into the passenger seat.
“I don’t trust her.” Charlotte waited impatiently for a couple of uniforms to pass and then shot backward out of the space. “She’s dragging her feet on the suspect sketch. And I don’t like that she kept the vic’s phone overnight.”
“Maybe she really didn’t realize she had it,” Diaz said.
“Or maybe she wanted a chance to wipe something she didn’t want us to see.”
“If that was it, why’d she give it to us at all?”
Charlotte looked at him. “You just like her because she’s pretty.”
He rolled his eyes, and Charlotte could tell she’d nailed it. Kira Vance was totally his type. The sexy long hair, the attitude. Plus, she was shorter than he was, and Diaz was self-conscious about his height.