“There is no longer a ‘we.’ We are over.”
Mike glanced between the two women. Then his stare landed on Kay. “Is this your idea? Putting thoughts in her mind about leaving me?”
Kay’s breath caught in her throat.
Jill slapped her hand against the table. “This has nothing to do with her. This is between you and me, and I’m telling you that we’re done. Whether or not you killed that officer is up to the court to decide, but I’m not going through this anymore with you. We’re over.” She trembled from head to toe. Only Kay could see her hands, now tucked on her lap, shaking as if she’d plugged herself into an outlet. But the resolve in Jill’s eyes was undeniable. And apparently unusual, judging by Mike’s expression.
Suddenly, though, Mike’s startled eyes turned scathing; his hot gaze drifted back and forth between Jill and Kay. “Well,” he said, his voice smooth and calm, “I suppose when I get out of here after I’m proven innocent, we’ll have to all three get together again. Talk through the facts. Clear up any… misunderstandings.” He parked his stare on Kay. Then he grinned. “Right?”
Jill grabbed Kay’s arm. “Come on. Let’s go.”
“So soon?” he sneered.
Kay and Jill made their way around the table. Kay thought the protocol was that the prisoner left first, but they were already at the door, ringing the buzzer to be let out.
Mike turned in his seat. “Jill, wait. Please. Let’s talk. Just you and me. Why do you need her here anyway?”
“She’s my friend!” Jill barked, ringing the buzzer again. The door swung open, and a guard appeared in the doorway.
Mike’s menacing eyes followed them. “I wasn’t aware you had any friends.”
Kay took Jill by the shoulder and ushered her out the door, then glanced back.
Mike leaned against the back of the chair, raised both hands, and waved.
“Shut the door,” Edgar said.
Damien studied Captain Lou Grayson, who stood near Edgar’s desk. “Did you find any evidence linking Toledo to Frank’s murder?”
Grayson glanced at Edgar, who gave a slight nod. Damien thought they were both acting weird.
“This is off the record for right now,” Grayson said, “but yeah, we got the warrant, got in, and found some good stuff. But even better, our guys found a gun wrapped in a sack, thrown in a Dumpster about a mile from his house. We’re running tests for a match, but it looks promising. He was denied bail.” He urged Damien to sit. “But that’s not why we’re here.”
Damien sat down. There was something in the air that surpassed the typical office tension that accompanied a busy day.
Grayson reached down and pulled out a folder from a briefcase that leaned against Edgar’s desk. He dropped it onto the edge of the desk as if everyone should focus on it.
Instead Damien stared at Edgar, tried to read his face, but it remained expressionless. “What’s going on?”
Edgar cleared his throat. “Frank’s no longer on their radar for the Web site.”
Damien sucked in a relieved breath. He smiled, nodding, eager for more information.
Edgar’s attention drifted past Damien to Grayson.
“Damien, we’re going to just come out and say it. No beating around the bush,” Grayson said, his tone suddenly more formal. “We have reason to believe you’re the one behind the Web site.”
29
“What?” The question rushed out with too much air, making it sound like he’d whispered it. Damien felt small sitting in the chair, Grayson towering over him, Edgar’s eyes narrow and critical. “What are you saying?”
“Are you the one behind the Web site?” Grayson said.
Damien’s fingers curled toward his palms, his fingernails embedded in his flesh. “What are you talking about?”
“Answer the question,” Edgar said.
“First you accuse Frank, the most honest man we know, who can’t defend himself because he’s dead, and when you can’t prove that, you turn to me?” Damien jumped out of his seat, causing Grayson’s hand to snap to his holster and Edgar to flinch. “You have got to be kidding me!”
“Sit down,” Grayson ordered. “Now.”
He’d known Lou for years, and never once had he talked to him this way. His tone didn’t have a hint of familiarity. Damien glared at Edgar, whose gaze dropped to his desk.
Damien lowered himself into his chair slowly, his stare boring into Grayson. “What makes you think it was me?”
From the folder he’d set on Edgar’s desk, Grayson pulled out a clipping from a newspaper. He turned it around and showed it to Damien, who took it and looked it over. It was a crossword puzzle. His crossword puzzle. Filled in.
“You published this puzzle this week. Yesterday, in fact. Is that correct?” Grayson asked.
Damien nodded. A chill crept down his spine. He was starting to understand where this was going.
“We found the answers particularly interesting. They seem to send a clear message.” Grayson took out another copy of the clipping. “If you read from left to right, we have words and phrases like important work, must continue, and this one in particular caused some alarm bells to go off: let their words kill them. Not so cleverly disguised to be read backward.”
Edgar looked terrified, as if he were sitting across from Hannibal Lecter.
Damien released his fingers and crossed his legs. He knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that this was not good, but there was no need for him to act guilty and afraid. He smiled. “Yeah, I can see where this looks bad.”
“No kidding.” Grayson grabbed a nearby chair sitting against the wall of Edgar’s office, plopped himself into it, and was now eye level with Damien. It felt rehearsed, like somewhere in a textbook he’d read that if you sit across from a suspect and lean forward four inches, he’ll confess everything. “Talk to me. Why did you decide to start the Web site?”
Damien rolled his eyes. “Give me a break. I did not start the Web site. I was trying to send a message to the person behind it. I wanted him to start up again, to prove that Frank was not responsible.”
“Interesting,” Grayson said, sounding not the least bit convinced. “Any reason you chose a crossword puzzle?”
“Why not write an editorial?” Edgar asked, a softness in his eyes indicating he really did want to know the reason.
Damien glanced at Edgar, then at Grayson, then down at his hands. He couldn’t keep it a secret any longer. “The person behind the Web site contacted me.”
Grayson’s skepticism hung in the room like heavy, intrusive cologne. “Really.”
“Really. He sent me a crossword puzzle. Here, at the office. When I solved it, it spoke of the Web site and for this person’s need to continue.”
“Except he hasn’t continued, has he?” Grayson asked.
Edgar looked furious. “Damien, why didn’t you report this? You should’ve told me!”
“I know. I know,” Damien said. “I should have. I just thought since the person sent it directly to me, I could reach him, try to convince him to stop.”
Grayson held up the crossword puzzle. “This doesn’t sound like you want him to stop.”
Damien shook his head. “I know how it looks. After Frank died, I wanted to clear his name. I wanted to prove he wasn’t the one doing this. I thought if the person would start up again, that was a surefire way to clear Frank.”
Grayson had a pretentious expression that begged to be slapped right off him.
Damien stood and went to the door. “I’ve got the original crossword the person sent to me.”
Grayson and Edgar followed him out, Edgar hurrying to catch up with him. “You’re in a boatload of trouble. You should’ve reported that to me.”
“And to us,” Grayson said. “We could charge you with hindering an investigation.”
Damien remained quiet. What else could he say?
They arrived at his desk. Damien sat in his chair to better reach his briefcase, where he’d last put the crossword. It was buried between all kinds of useless things he kept in there. Behind a bulging green folder, he fished around for the thin, red one but felt nothing except vinyl.