With that affirmation in my mind, I cross the street and enter the building, making a beeline for the elevator. “Lilah!”
At the sound of Roger’s voice, I stop dead and steel myself for the impact of looking at him, the impact of looking into his damn eyes. I give myself a pep talk: Don’t be a wimp ass bitch, Lilah. Pep talks work. They motivate. Or so my mother used to tell me. I huff out a breath and turn to face the judge and jury. He steps in front of me, tall, thin, and fit, his skin wrinkled from age, sun, and cigarettes. His eyes, those piercing blues eyes that always undo people, give me a once over. “You look good, girl. Give me a hug.” He opens his arms.
I don’t move. “I don’t hug, Roger. You know that about me.”
He laughs. “I see LA didn’t soften you up any.”
“No. It didn’t.” I meet his stare, and I find I don’t feel the intimidation I thought I’d feel. Roger rattles criminals. He doesn’t rattle killers. We’re too cold to be that easily affected. I forgot that fact. What I realize now, is that I just don’t like the man, and admiration is no longer there to fill the void and I don’t know why. Whatever the case, this is rather anticlimactic. “I need to get upstairs.” I turn and start for the elevator.
He falls into step with me and starts coughing. I grind my teeth and endure. Once we’re in the car, he glances over at me. “Any breaks in the case?”
“None that I’m ready to share,” I say, something Roger will understand. I don’t talk about what I think about. Well, except to Kane, but no one knows I talk to Kane.
He laughs. “I know how you work, but this one is really mine, babe. How about we work it together?”
I glance over at him. “In case I didn’t tell you in the past, I don’t like the babe thing. I get urges to lift my knee when someone calls me babe. And I don’t play well with others. You know this about me, too.”
“And yet, you enjoy the game the way I do. I’m sixty-four, Lilah. I’m retiring soon. Don’t take the game away from me.”
The elevator stops, and the doors open. I step into the hallway, and he joins me. “You’re here. You can join me for this meeting, but I make no promises beyond that.”
His eyes narrow on mine, something glinting in their depths that I can’t name. “I used to be the person you came to on everything, and now, I do believe that you’re territorial.”
He’s right, I am, and I’m not sure if that’s about this case or still about me. It has to be about the defense mechanism he stirs in me. “Let’s go talk to the medical examiner,” I say, and I don’t wait for a reply; I just start walking.
My cellphone rings, and it’s the station number. “Agent Love.”
“Agent Love, it’s Thomas.”
Creepy Thomas the forensics guy. This day just gets better and better. “Yes, Thomas?”
“Houston thought you’d want to know that we found matching unidentified male DNA at the scene of both crimes.”
“What about at Ralph’s place?”
“No. Nothing but him and Agent Williams.”
Interesting. I don’t think Umbrella Man goes to the secondary victims’ homes. He wouldn’t be able to tolerate leaving their houses dirty. Which means he hasn’t been to Lily’s house. So how does he communicate with them?
“On a separate note,” Thomas says, reminding me he’s still on the line. “You don’t like me, do you?”
“I don’t like anyone, Thomas. You fit right in. Do you need anything else?”
“You’ll like Melanie. She knows what she’s doing.”
“And you know this how?”
“Exposure.”
It’s a weird answer. “Do you have anything else for me?”
“I guess not.” He hangs up. For once, someone doesn’t make me hang up first.
I motion Roger to the room that is our destination. “Was that news?” Rogers asks as we pause at the door.
“Forensics guy. Nothing helpful right now.” It’s not a lie; it’s just not real information.
We enter the lab, and a tall, pretty black woman in a lab coat stands up. “Roger,” she greets.
“Hi, Melanie,” he says, greeting her. “Good to see you on this one.” He motions to me. “This is Agent Love, FBI. She’s my protégé and a good one she is.”
“Nice to meet you, Agent Love,” Melanie says, offering me her hand.
“What would be nice is for you to tell me you know the toxin that killed my victims.”
She grimaces. “I wish I did.”
I’m about to pull up the email that Tic Tac sent me when she reaches over to the lab table and slides a piece of paper in my direction. “That’s a list of the toxins that are difficult, if not impossible to identify. We are deficient in equipment to find a few of these, but Beth will have access to that equipment when she arrives in Europe. We’re just trying to get approval to send samples to her.”
“I’ll get you the approval,” I say, picking up the list and noting the way she’s given me ways these toxins could be used and acquired. I glance up at her. “You’re efficient.”
“Of course, I’m efficient. I’m the head medical examiner for the district. If protocol hadn’t been broken, I would have handled this from the beginning. This is about lives lost. I take that seriously.”
“What about the suicide victim, Ralph Redman? Are you familiar with that case?”
“I am. It’s pretty cut and dry.”
“Take another look. Pretend it’s not.”
“Okay.” She looks confused. “What am I looking for?”
“What you’re supposed to look for. Everything and anything. You called me. You obviously have my number. Call me. Text me. Whatever. I’ll get that sample transport approved.” I glance at Roger. “What’s your plan now?”
“I think I’ll catch up with Melanie for a few minutes. You got time for lunch, Melanie?”
“I think I could swing that,” she says.
I leave the room, and I’m bothered by Roger and Melanie having lunch for no reasonable reason other than that territorial thing he pointed out. I’m also bothered by that odd call from Thomas. I wait until I exit the building, and I call Murphy. “What can I do for you, Agent Love?”
“I need samples shipped to Europe. The lab here is having trouble getting it approved.”
“Consider it approved. I’ll handle it.”
“Beth?”
“Just landed a few minutes ago. She’s safe. What else?”
“I’m going to a fundraiser for my father tonight. That means our fucked-up friends will be there.”
He laughs. “I don’t remember that being our chosen phone nickname.”
“I’m moving in with Kane.”
“Did you need a house warming gift?”
“That’s what you wanted, right? You get him through me?”
“It is a bonus, Agent Love.”
“What don’t I know about the two of you?” I ask the question I forgot to push Kane over last night.
“We have mutual enemies, and I like to keep my allies close.”
“Kane is not your ally. It’s a mistake to believe that.”
“But he is yours. I have a meeting, Agent Love. Let me know if you need anything more.” He disconnects, and I need to think again. That means I swing by the station, get a read on Lily, and then I’m going to head to Purgatory and get lost for a few hours until I’m trapped at that Godforsaken party. That niggling something is right there in my mind. If I can just get a damn pizza and some quiet, I’ll grab it. I’ll understand it.
CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO
I arrive at the station with the lunch hour fast approaching and go straight to Houston’s office. Based on the conversation that includes words and phrases like “fuck,” “bastard” and “are you serious?” he’s apparently pissing someone off. He scowls at something said to him, glances up to lift a friendly finger at me, but quickly gets right back to pissing off the other person. Whil
e I appreciate his conversation skills, I really do, I leave. I don’t have time to be entertained. I head to the elevator to travel down a level to the place where my new, but temporary, team works.
The car halts, and I step off to stand face to face with Thomas, who is still big, broad, and in my space currently giving me no room. “Personal fucking space again, Thomas,” I snap. “Step back.” He does. “And where are you going?”
“To piss.”
“By way of an elevator?”
“There’s a snack machine downstairs. I need a snack.”
“A snack?”