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“Next we have Peter Anderson.Born and raised in Chelsea, he was the British partner of the security firm of Anderson Parker Security. The Parker being for Jordan Parker, who headed up the U.S. Branch. Anderson and Parker brought in the nifty gadgets used during the heist, some of which they’d created themselves, including that very awesome laser saw they used to slice through the floor like it was hot butter. There’s also a childhood connection between Anderson and the Liebers.”
“Then there’s Martin Stark. It’s just fucking dumb luck that he was caught in the fray. His day job was spent as a strategist for Wall Street, but he was better known for strategizing heists in Berlin, Dubai, Malta, and New York just to name a few. He was a master of organizing a team and teaching them how to maneuver with almost military precision. He was never caught, only suspected of the crimes, but we all know that’s bullshit. The crazy thing is all of those jobs were done with a different crew—from as small as four to as large as twelve. That’s unheard of, but Stark took his time in the planning. He spent years between jobs, as many as six or eight, while he trained his men and worked out logistics.”
“And then there was John Elliott,” Jack said. “He was the outsider they brought in. All of these other guys came from money. Stuff like this was a game to them and they kept upping the stakes. But John was desperate. His daughter was dying and he would have done anything to give her the treatment she needed, and they exploited that and probably never planned that he’d take part of the cut. Elliott was the fall guy whose body would be left behind when they made their escape.”
“I never noticed anything was off.” Jack touched the picture of Elliott that was a duplicate of the one on the other board that held his team. “Ever since Katie was diagnosed he was always more tense, more worried, and we hashed it out over beers a couple of times. But I never saw anything like this coming. The thing about Elliott, all my men, was when they were focused on a mission, they were stone cold. If you ever question or doubt while you’re in the middle of an op then you might as well put a bullet in your brain before someone else does. The situations are too dangerous, and the lives of your brothers are on the line.”
“You can’t blame yourself, Jack.” I rested my hand on his lower back, hoping I could comfort him. “You couldn’t have seen any of this. No one could have.”
“It sure as hell doesn’t feel that way.”
“This was all information uncovered during the initial investigation,” Carver said. “What we’ve got to do now is connect the dots. Try to find the thread that connectsthose men to whoever is killing off the SWAT team. We’ll need to reinterview all the families. We’ll also need to see if we can find who’s been hired for the hits. Whoever’s in charge isn’t getting their hands dirty with the killings. They’re doling out money and giving orders. But the killers are professionals. They’d have to be to take out men with that kind of training. The list shouldn’t be all that long.”
“Greer was going to talk to Jane Elliott tonight,” Jack said, referring to Detective Elliott’s wife. “I’ll need to go see her tomorrow. She shouldn’t have to do this by herself, and more than likely the media will be camped out on her doorstep before too long.”
“What will happen to her?” I asked.
“She’ll loseher widow’s benefits,” Carver said. “And she’ll be requestioned. It’ll be rough on her and her girls. What are they, eight and ten now?”
“Yeah,” Jack said. “Eight and ten. Old enough to have their illusions shattered about their fatherand know what it means.”
“Can you look over all of the autopsy reports?” Carver asked me. “You won’t have the bodies, but maybe you’ll see a similar killing style between the victims. That might help us narrow our search a bit. I’m going to tell you both right now that Greer and Ms. Rhodes have an agenda. You can use them to find the truth, but don’t trust them. If this doesn’t turn out right, they’re going to need someone to blame, and you’re the only one left alive to shoulder it all.”
“We’ll be working parallel with each other. We’re going to share notes and findings and interviews, and Greer has agreed to let the two of you help with the investigation. Though between you and me, he didn’t have any choice because I outrank him and could make things very difficult. You’re going to owe me a room full of strippers and a case of Glenfiddich when this is all said and done.”
“If we get outof this and your wife okays the strippers, then you’ve got a deal,” Jack said.
***
Two hours later my eyes were crossing over autopsy reports. It was past midnight, and I’d been up for almost twenty-four hours with nothing but a catnap in between.
“I’m not going to do you any good anymore,” I said, stretching my arms above my head and feeling a couple of pops along my spine.
Jack and Carver were spread out at their own tables, poring over paperwork and making notes to follow up on a few things. Police work was mostly tedious, sifting through paperwork and reports—truth and lies. Every once in a while, one of them would get up and add something to one of the boards.
“I’m about done for too,” Carver said, tossing down his pen. “We can start fresh in the morning.”
“Do you have an appointment with Mark Mosely tomorrow?” Jack asked.
I nodded. “Eight-thirty.”
“I’ll go with you to the funeral home, and then we can go pay a visit to Jane Elliott. I don’t want to wait too long. And maybe she’ll remember something that Greer wasn’t able to get out of her.”
We trudged up the stairs and Carver peeled off toward the guest room. “Thanks for letting me crash here,” he said. “TheB&B I stayed at last time I was here creeped me out. I kept getting the feeling that old woman who runs it was spying on me and going through my things. And I think she put a sleeping pill in the hot milk she brought me every night.”
I raised my brows but wasn’t all that surprised by the accusation. Wanda Baker was a curious sort. Carver was lucky he didn’t wake upwith Wanda’s single daughter lying beside him in bed.
Jack closed the bedroom door behind us and dimmed the lights. The protective coating on the floor to ceiling windows kept people from seeing in, but that didn’t mean they couldn’t shoot into the room at random and get lucky. Of course, since the bedroom was on the top floor they’d have to climb a tree to get a shot off.
I kicked off my shoes and stripped out of my clothes. I probably would have left them on the floor and fallen face first into bed if Jack and I weren’t still at the newly living together stage. Jack was a neat freak and liked everything in its place. I put things in their place, but I wasn’t in as big a hurry to put them there as Jack was.
I picked the clothes up and tossed them in the hamper and grabbed an oversized T-shirtto slip over my head while I was still vertical. I crawled under the covers and felt the mattress dip as Jack got on the other side and pulled me into his arms.
“Love you,” I mumbled, and then fell asleep.
CHAPTER TWELVE
The first thing I noticed when I woke the next morning was the smell of coffee. I couldn’t function without it, and I held my hand out from under the covers and heard Jack chuckle as he wrapped my fingers around the cup.
