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Jeter looked at Kirra’s face, not as pale as it had been; still, his voice was gentle. “You know there’ll be an inquiry, of course, and what happened here will get out, to your office, around town. You’ll have to answer some questions, but with all the weapons in his van and damage to your rental car, there won’t be any doubt he was chasing you, out to kill you. I’m sure he’ll have a record to prove it. Even if they find you ran him off the road, it was in self-defense. You’re lucky he came at you here. Still, you could easily have ended up at the bottom of that gulley.”
Now he had to walk on eggshells, no choice. “I thought you didn’t have any enemies, Kirra, since you’re always complaining you spend your time plea-bargaining people back on the streets. So tell me, why would a thug you’ve never seen or tried want to kill an innocent young prosecuting attorney?”
She’d nearly stopped shaking, thank goodness. She managed a shrug. “I piss off a lot of people, Jeter, but enough to kill me? Nobody I know.” She was trying her best to look guileless, but she managed to look only pale and pathetic.
He’d been stupid, baiting her, being sarcastic. Of course Oliveras and Grissom must have found out who she was. He didn’t want to make her lie to him and she couldn’t confess to him she was Eliot Ness. He hated playing a game of “let’s pretend” with her, but at least he could try to keep Oliveras or Grissom from killing her. He could surveil her again until Agent Hammersmith showed up. Chief Pershing wouldn’t be happy with the overtime, but he’d justify it somehow.
Jeter pulled Kirra against him, rubbed her back, and whispered against her hair, “I’m sorry, kiddo. Really sorry you had to go through this. That’s right, breathe deep. We don’t have to talk now, it can wait.”
Kirra burrowed in. She hadn’t realized how starved she’d been for human contact, for kindness, for touch. Jeter said, “Savich has asked Chief Pershing to work with him to nail down exactly what happened to Josh Atwood and his mother. They already got a warrant and looked through Grissom’s deleted emails, found one where Grissom asked about the going rate for pest control for a small house.”
Kirra reared back in his arms. She wasn’t trembling now and color was coming back into her cheeks. He’d said the right thing. Kirra said, “You know he’s talking about Josh. Small house—” She shuddered. “Grissom’s a monster.”
“We looked up the IP address. It belongs to a Rodriguez Ells, native of Clinton, Delaware. He’s a suspected member of MS-13.”
He paused, knew she was thinking, planning, but he knew she’d do something.
Kirra got herself together, couldn’t take a chance she’d blurt out something to make Jeter suspect her. “Thank you, Jeter. Is there any word on the man who killed Corinne Ewing?”
“Aldo Springer. He’s in the hospital with a guard, keeping his mouth shut for now. I’m thinking it’ll be a race to see if we get him to talk before Oliveras takes him out. Pepper and I finished questioning Oliveras and Ryman Grissom yesterday. They had more lawyers with them than my daddy has coon guns, so it was a no go from the beginning, even for Pepper.”
He forced himself to add, “I want to know about everyone you’ve sent to Red Onion who’s out now and might have done this. Make a list, give it to me. Whoever it is, they either couldn’t afford good help, or they thought you’d be pretty easy to take care of.”
“Sure, I’ll make up a list. You’ll let me know, right?”
He gave her a last hug, dashed his fingers through his hair. “We don’t have to stay any longer. Come on, I’ll follow you home. Don’t forget, Hendricks will be surveilling you until Agent Hammersmith gets here.”
Kirra took one last look over the cliff at the smashed white van and wondered if she should take the first flight back to Australia and Uncle Leo. She imagined her own body being hoisted up out of that gulley, saw her uncle Leo’s face etched in grief, not understanding.
