„His murdering son,“ Mia muttered. „I wouldn’t waste your tears on him, Julia. Angelo Conti died the same way Paula Garcia died, beaten to death with a tire iron.“
Julia huffed out a sigh. „I suppose your guy does have a way with poetic justice. Well, anyway, take a look at this.“ She rolled the body slightly and pointed to a spot just above the back of Conti’s knee. „It’s faint and incomplete, but better than nothing.“
Abe leaned closer to see, his pulse quickening. „A partial thumbprint.“
Mia met his eyes, hers gleaming. „In Conti’s blood. Nicely done, Julia.“
„The body’s lividity indicates the killer rolled Conti on his side shortly after his death. The blood still would have been wet.“
„He didn’t wear gloves,“ Mia murmured.
Abe felt a spark of excited hope. „He got so carried away he made a mistake.“
„Yeah,“ Julia said with satisfaction. „For the severity of the beating, there was very little blood on the body. He must have known he’d screwed up and tried to clean him off afterward. But after laying Conti on his side, the body contracted up in rigor and this spot behind the knee would have been hidden. He missed it.“
Abe whistled. „We’re lucky the print wasn’t blurred from the leg rubbing against it.“
„That you are. I called Jack to help with the print. He should be here any minute.“
„It’s only a partial,“ Mia cautioned. „We shouldn’t get our hopes up.“
„We won’t.“ Abe took another look at the partial print. „But he’s made a mistake. He’ll make others and that’s how we’ll find him.“
Julia pulled off her gloves. „Good. I want this thing over, for all of our sakes, but especially for Kristen’s. I heard about what happened last night. How is she?“
„Kristen,“ Mia said archly with a side look at Abe.
„seemed fine when I left her. But then I didn’t stay all night.“
Julia looked amused. „But you slept on the couch, right, Abe?“
Abe rolled his eyes. „Yes, I did, actually. It’s a very uncomfortable foldout.“ He had, actually. She’d fallen asleep in his arms as he sat on the edge of her bed. He’d stayed there next to her for a long while, watching her take deep even breaths, wondering if his sudden and intense interest was due to the fact she was the first woman he’d met after a six-year dearth or if he secretly did compare her to Debra. He’d concluded neither was the case, that he was simply acting on the desire of a healthy red-blooded man for a beautiful, intelligent, sensitive woman. Then he’d retired to the relative discomfort of the foldout couch where he’d lain awake well into the night cursing the fact that he was a healthy red-blooded man with a beautiful, intelligent, sexy-as-hell woman in the next room. Stopping after a few morning kisses was one of the hardest things he’d ever done.
„Foldouts usually are,“ Julia commented dryly. Then she looked up when the door opened, her face changing from amusement to awareness. „Jack.“
Jack closed the door behind him. „Your message said it was urgent“
„It is.“ Abe pulled on his jacket. „Take care with it, Jack. It’s our best lead so far.“
Monday, February 23,
2:30 P.M.
Taking care of business was less messy when he kept his head. There was a lot less cleanup required when the only mark on the body was a neat bullet hole in the forehead. The exit wound in the back of the head was a bit of a chore, but the best things in life were rarely the easiest. At least it was easier than it had been with Conti. He still shuddered at the thought of washing the body. Repugnant it had been. Even for me.
But enough about Angelo Conti. He’d moved on to Arthur Monroe now, the put-upon pedophile that society had failed. He’d chosen Arthur Monroe’s final resting place with ironic care. The liberal bleeding-heart judge who had taken more pity on the offender than his five-year-old victim owned a small dry-cleaning business north of the city. It would serve as both a dumping ground for Monroe and a warning to the judge.
He pulled his van into the narrow access road behind the dry cleaners. The van sported a new sign that was a fine imitation of the one used by Chicago’s Department of Water Management. It, like the electrical contractor sign, made a fine cover for digging a trench. Nobody would give a second thought to seeing a utility vehicle on the street.
And nobody did. It was almost anticlimactic, he thought as he got back in his van to drive away. Nobody challenged him, nobody said, „Hey, fella, what are you doing?“
But then again, it was better that way. His reward would come when the world found out that yet another repellent menace was off the streets.
Back to work now. Back to the fishbowl tonight. It was good to have a hobby.
Monday, February 23,
3:45 P.M.
„Kristen?“
She looked up at the sound of Greg’s voice to find him standing in the doorway to her office, looking miserable.
She might have said he looked as miserable as she felt, but the human face was not capable of that kind of expression. She looked back down, concentrating on the files she was collecting, forcing her voice to be steady. „I’m almost finished, Greg. I’ll be ready to get these cases to you in about an hour.“
He sighed heavily. „You know that’s not why I’m here.“ He came into her office, shutting the door. „I’m sorry this happened. I’m sorry it had to be you. I’m sorry it had to be me.“
She looked up and met his kind eyes. „I know. I’m not upset at you, Greg. Really.“
He flopped into the chair across from her desk. „This isn’t fair. It isn’t right. But then this whole past week hasn’t been fair or right. Are you okay, Kristen? Physically?“
Her hands stilled on the file folders. „I’m fine, Greg.“
„That’s what you always say,“ he said bitterly. „We were afraid this would happen, Lois and I. That’s why we wanted you to come stay with one of us.“
„And have intruders with guns in your home, endangering your families? I don’t think so.“
He grimaced as her words hit home, then pounded his fist against his knee. „Dammit, somebody needs to be there for you. You shouldn’t go through this all alone.“
I’m not. The thought echoed in her mind, easing some of the tension from her shoulders. For however long it lasted, Abe Reagan was there. She still wasn’t completely sure why, but at this point it was enough to know he would come when she called. „I’m fine, Greg,“ she said more firmly. „I have police protection, a home alarm – “
„Both of which served you well last night,“ he said sarcastically.
She conceded his point with a nod, not letting herself think about how vulnerable she really was. „I’m considering a dog.“
He looked unappeased. „A big one?“
„A nasty one with three heads. I’ll name him Cerberus.“
Greg frowned, then relaxed a little. „You’ll get one soon?“
„Maybe tomorrow.“
A knock interrupted them and Lois stuck her head in. „Kristen, you have a visitor.“
Kristen’s smile dimmed. „Refer them to John. I’m on vacation.“
Lois shook her head. „Personal.“ She opened the door wider and Owen’s face appeared, followed by the rest of him. He held a brown paper bag that smelled wonderful.
„You didn’t come by for lunch,“ he said reproachfully and Greg stood up.
„Dog, tomorrow?“ Greg urged.
„Promise.“ Greg left and Owen entered, frowning at the box on her desk.
„What is this?“
Kristen waved a careless hand. „Oh, I’m just cleaning up a few files.“
„Why did that man say ‘dog, tomorrow’?“
„I’m getting a dog,“ she said lightly. „What’s inside the bag?“
„Soup and a Reuben. I didn’t think you liked dogs. That blind guy came into the diner one day with a Seeing Eye dog and you sneezed your way into next week.“