“What do you think?”
“I think he was showing off for his fantasy girlfriend… you know, trying to impress her.”
“The girlfriend being Regan Madison?”
Wincott raised his eyebrows. “I hear she’s a real looker.”
Alec didn’t comment. Wincott didn’t seem to notice.
“You know how those sickos are. Bradshaw thinks maybe he saw her someplace and got fixated on her. He’s going to talk to Matlin about it,” he added, referring to the psychiatrist on staff.
“Good idea,” Alec said. He then filled Wincott in on his interview with Regan and told him about the man who had chased her to her car. He also mentioned her theory about Sweeney and Dr. Shields. “She’s sure she lost her phone when she fell.”
Wincott was trying to work it out in his mind. “Okay, so he found the phone, saw it had a camera built in, and decided to have a little fun with it. Her e-mail address was there. All he had to do was take the picture and then push a button.”
“Still doesn’t explain the connection to Sweeney.”
Wincott agreed. “And I don’t see a drug dealer having that kind of fun. I can see one of them killing Sweeney, but…” He stopped shrugged, and then said, “Not making any sense yet.”
“What did you mean when you said you were running prints on what was left of the phone?”
“He’d smashed the phone to pieces while he was still in the basement. Crime team found a couple of tiny pieces on the workbench.”
“And of course no prints on the hammer.”
“Nope,” he confirmed. “Not a one. Listen, I appreciate you working this with us. There’s going to be a lot of legwork. Since that e-mail was sent to Regan Madison, we’re going to have to check out anyone who’s connected to her. Maybe there’s a vendetta from a jilted lover or an unhappy employee. I can use all the help I can get. Be kind of nice finally working together and me getting to tell you what to do. I’m gonna like that.”
“Yeah, well, before you get all worked up about adding me to your team, there’s something you need to know.”
“What’s that?” Wincott happened to look up, and then muttered, “Ah, hell. Lewis is motioning to me.”
“He’s gonna tell you he wants me out of the loop. I can make phone calls for you, but that’s about it.”
“Prick,” he mumbled. “Keep me posted,” Alec said.
Wincott nodded. Alec could hear him sigh as he threaded his way around the desks to get to Lewis.
Chapter Twenty
“You’re back in.”
Lewis made the announcement from the doorway of his office. “Buchanan, did you hear what I just said? You’re back in.”
Alec didn’t bother to stand. He simply turned in his swivel chair and asked, “Back in what?”
Lewis strode forward. “I just got off the phone with the superintendent of police. That’s right,” he said. “The superintendent.” His chest actually swelled like a blowfish when he repeated the news.
“And?” Alec prodded.
“Did you have any idea who Regan Madison was when you interviewed her?”
Alec wasn’t in the mood to play guessing games. He’d been in the middle of doodling on his blotter while he watched the second hand circle the clock on the wall. It had been only a couple of hours since Lewis had taken his cases away from him, but he was bored out of his mind. He wasn’t sure how much longer he could stomach sitting there and knew that Lewis expected him to show up at eight every morning and do nothing for nine frickin’ hours. If Lewis had wanted to drive him nuts, he couldn’t have picked a better punishment. Three weeks of sheer boredom. Like it or not, he was going to have to deal with it.
“Well, did you?”
“Okay, I’ll bite. Who is she?”
“A Hamilton,” he said. He all but smacked his lips as he said the name.
Lewis stood in front of Alec’s desk and planted his sweaty palms on Alec’s blotter. “She’s Regan Hamilton Madison.”
“And?”
“Her family owns all those hotels.” He was frowning now, obviously irritated that Alec hadn’t been suitably impressed. “The Hamilton in Chicago is just one of several. They’re all top-of-the-line. The woman comes from money, old money.”
“So?”
“That wasn’t in your report. I checked. You should have said something. Why didn’t you?”
Alec didn’t know how to respond to the absurd question. “So what about her? And what did you mean when you said I was back in?”
“She has brothers.”
“Yes, I know.”
“Three of them,” he continued, acting as though Alec hadn’t acknowledged the fact. “The oldest one just called the superintendent. Seems he knows the Madisons quite well. They belong to the same country club,” he added. “The Clairmont Country Club, to be exact. My wife and I have been trying to get in there for over five years.”
“And?” Alec asked, trying to force him to get to the point.
“Aiden’s the oldest Madison,” he said. “He’s a very powerful man.”
He sounded like a fan now. Alec was disgusted. “So?”
“So he’s concerned about his sister’s safety.”
Alec leaned back. “Why are you talking to me? Wincott’s in charge of the investigation. Refer the brothers to him.”
“Wincott has enough to do,” he said. “And Regan Madison isn’t a suspect…”
“Did Wincott tell you she wasn’t?”
“I’m telling you,” he snapped.
He wasn’t going to argue. Come on, he thought. Spell it out. Lewis was taking forever to tell him what he wanted. And Alec had so many other things to do. Like doodling. He almost laughed out loud then. Lewis had made sure he’d be excluded from any and all investigations, wanting him to sit at his desk and stare into space. Fortunately, he had a lot of doodles to finish, and right now Lewis’s palms were sweating all over one of his more creative ones.
“I want you to look after her until Wincott brings in Sweeney’s killer.”
Alec dropped his pen. “You want me to be her bodyguard?” He got angry just thinking about it. “I’m not a damned bodyguard,” he muttered before Lewis could speak.
“You are now. Know why I decided on you?”
“Because you knew I’d hate it?”
“That too,” Lewis said, grinning. “You have a bad attitude, Buchanan. That’s why you were so good working vice. You fit right in with all those perverts and psychos.”
His insults didn’t faze Alec. “Nice of you to notice.”
“You’re going to stick with the Madison woman night and day, day and night. You got that?”
Was he more concerned about the wealthy woman being upset or Sweeney’s murder? It was hard to tell.
“If her family has so much money, why can’t they hire bodyguards?”
“They could. Of course they could,” he said. “And they might.”
Every time he opened his mouth, he spit all over Alec’s desk. Man oh man, three weeks suddenly felt like a life sentence.
“But I want someone from this office with her at all times, and I want Aiden Madison to be beholden. Got that?” He didn’t ex-
pect a reply. He straightened and headed back to his office. He was shutting the door when he paused and shouted, “Buchanan?”
Alec didn’t answer.
“This is my ticket into Clairmont. Don’t screw it up.”
“Yeah, right.”
“Keep her alive.”
Chapter Twenty-one
Due to the incessant rain, the maintenance crew didn’t get around to clearing the five-foot-high pile of dead shrubs and branches for days. The men wore black rubber boots and yellow slickers over their work clothes and were soon covered in mud as they hauled the refuse away. Vernon, the most energetic of the three-man crew, had tossed the last gnarled branch into a nearby wheelbarrow and was heading back to the shed to take a break and smoke at least two unfiltered Camels when one of his coworkers, a whiner named Sammy, started screaming like a girl, pointing and backing away. Sammy’s hazel eyes looked as if they were going to pop right out of his head.