Page 39 of D for Dead

‘Because I need to go speak with the super about the cameras.’

‘I can do that.’

‘You can also talk to the lady.’

Joel gave the woman a wide grin. ‘Special Agent Rivers here would love that cup of coffee.’

‘But–’

He gave the younger agent a sharp prod in the back. ‘Go on, Rivers. Don’t be rude.’

‘Ma’am.’ Rivers nodded at the woman, before turning to Joel. ‘What’s her name?’

‘Why don’t you ask her?’

‘Seriously, Joel, you haven’t even got her name?’

‘What? You want me to do your job for you too?’ Joel gave Rivers another not so gentle shove. ‘Now go, shoo.’

He waited for Rivers to step inside and the door to close before pulling out his cell.

He dialled Angell’s number, heard it ring three times, then her voice on the line. ‘Detective Angell.’

Joel smiled to himself. Detective Angell. He had to admit it suited her.

‘It’s Hickok.’

‘What’s up?’

All brisk and businesslike; she wasn’t planning on cutting him any slack anytime soon. He would have to change that.

‘Rivers is finishing up interviewing the tenants. I’m gonna speak with the super again about the camera situation. Dozens of the things up, but none of them appear to be working. What gives with the publisher?’

He listened as Angell updated him on the meeting, which, although necessary, hadn’t thrown up anything they didn’t already know. Shannon Castle had worked for the firm for six years. She had lived alone in the city and on the evening she had gone missing, she had been grocery shopping. Her car was still in the parking lot, implying she had been abducted from there.

This time round, Shawn Randall had a solid alibi, having been at a college football match with dozens of witnesses to verify, which left them with a short list of suspects.

It appeared the killer was targeting people Amy knew, albeit loosely, so it had to be personal. First the girl who worked in the coffee shop she frequented, then – a victim with a slightly more personal connection – an assistant from her publishing firm. If the pattern continued, her friends and family would need to be on their guard.

14

When the buzzer rang Officer Boaz almost leapt off the couch, shoulders back and chest puffed out, fingers covered in Oreo crumbs hovering over his sidearm.

His reaction had Huckleberry standing in his bed and barking, hackles rising.

‘It’s probably the shift cover,’ he told Amy in a tone she guessed was supposed to reassure her. ‘Let me check it out.’

Glancing at her watch, Amy noted it was not yet seven thirty. Boaz had told her earlier he was being relieved at eight. A little ball of apprehension knotted in her gut as she watched him approach the door like a coiled snake, as if he expected it to explode. Right hand clenching the door knob, his left pulling out his gun, he yanked the door wide, weapon pointed.

‘What the fuck?’

‘Oh, it’s you.’ Boaz didn’t sound happy at the visitor.

‘Don’t point that thing at me. Jesus, man. Are you nuts?’ Shaking his head in disbelief, Sullivan stepped inside. He looked beat, but his presence still ate up the room. Slamming the door behind him he glared at Boaz, who was clumsily holstering his weapon.

‘You dumbass, what the hell are you doing pulling your gun?’

‘I was told to watch the lady,’ Boaz protested.