Silent Night Stakeout. Kerry Connor
Читать онлайн книгу.
sister?”
“Lauren. She’s his next of kin, the only family he had left other than the baby she had a few months ago.”
He nodded. “I’ll take care of that next.”
“I’d like to be there when you do.”
“Why?”
“Lauren Decker just lost her only sibling. She’s going to need a kind face to break the news.”
“This isn’t the first time I’ve had to inform someone of the death of a family member.”
“A family member you didn’t view as nothing more than a no-good criminal? That’s what you’ve already decided, isn’t it? That Jeremy Decker was nothing but a lowlife who probably deserved what was coming to him?”
“I’m not sure anyone deserved this, but just because you got him off doesn’t mean he was truly innocent.”
“And just because he was arrested doesn’t mean he was guilty.”
From his expression, he was biting back the response he wanted to offer. After a moment, he said, “Either way, I’m capable of breaking this news to her gently.”
“Then I look forward to seeing that. Because Lauren Decker is a young woman who just had a baby, which she is raising on her own. I suspect her emotional state is already fragile, and I can’t imagine this news is going to help that. Besides, who do you think she’s more likely to confide in, someone she just met who’s a member of the same police department that recently arrested her brother, or someone she’s met before, someone her brother trusted?”
Regina could tell he wanted to argue the point, those lips now compressed into a thin, frustrated line.
“Besides, like you said, you don’t have the file, so you’d have to look up the address. I already know it.”
“Fine,” he practically growled. “You can come.”
“Thank you.” Inwardly, she sighed with relief. Evidently she’d been wrong earlier. She could do something else for Jeremy Decker, the same thing she’d always intended to do: make sure he got justice. And not even an incredibly handsome police detective was going to prevent her from doing so.
The sound of footsteps crunching on slush and snow indicated someone was approaching moments before the man she’d seen arrive with Waters came up behind him. He was middle-aged and overweight, the folds of his face seemingly settled in a permanent frown. Even so, she had the distinct impression his scowl was extra fierce for her benefit, given the bleary-eyed glare he shot at her. Another cop who didn’t like her, she registered, though the knowledge gave her none of the disappointment she’d experienced when she’d seen the look in Detective Waters’s eyes.
“Everything okay over here?” the newcomer asked.
“Fine,” Waters said. “Ms. Garrett, my partner, Jeff Polinsky. Polinsky, Regina Garrett. Ms. Garrett has graciously agreed to provide the address of the next of kin. We’re going to go notify her now.”
The man’s frown deepened. “She’s going? Why?”
“To help,” Waters said with a wry edge that hinted at his skepticism. “You coming?”
“Pass,” Polinsky muttered, the look he shot her leaving little doubt for the reason. “I’ll wrap things up here, get a ride back with somebody.”
“Fine.”
Both men turned back toward her at the same moment. Regina knew Polinsky was about to challenge her before he said a single word. “Since you have all the answers, how about it, Counselor? Any theories about why somebody killed your client?”
Regina didn’t flinch from his stare, refusing to let his hostility get to her. “I have to assume someone didn’t want him to talk about something.”
“Oh, yeah? What makes you say that?”
“Why else shove a red handkerchief or whatever that was in his mouth? It was a message.”
“Probably. Especially since that handkerchief most likely didn’t start out red.”
“Polinsky—” Waters started.
She frowned. “What are you talking about?”
“The handkerchief was red from the blood.” The corner of his mouth curved in a smirk, the nasty pleasure in it instantly making her uneasy. “The killer cut out his tongue.”
Chapter Three
“I apologize for Polinsky,” Marcus said as he drove them toward the address Regina Garrett had given him. “He’s not usually so rude.”
“Somehow I doubt that,” she said mildly from the passenger seat.
His mouth twitched in acknowledgment. “I’m not saying he’s not rude. He’s just not usually that rude.”
“I understand. He’s not the first cop who didn’t like me, and I doubt he’ll be the last.”
“That doesn’t bother you?”
“Like most people, I’m not crazy about the idea that anyone dislikes me. But then, I wouldn’t be very good at my job if the entire Chicago PD were fans.”
“Well, cops tend to not be too crazy about people who help criminals get off,” he said before he could think better of it. As soon as the words were out, he braced himself for an angry comeback.
Instead she simply said, “Everybody deserves a defense, Detective. It’s how our justice system works.”
He didn’t bother to disagree. He was well aware how the justice system worked, or at least how it was supposed to. He also knew that some people deserved nothing but to be punished. That was justice. He almost asked her how many who deserved to be punished hadn’t been because of her, how many crimes they’d gone on to commit, how many people they’d hurt because she’d given them the opportunity. But that would make him no better than Polinsky, and he was in no mood to pick a fight.
They passed the rest of the trip in silence, his discomfort growing by the minute. He did his best not to look at her. It didn’t help. He could still see her out of the corner of his eye, still feel her presence with almost painful awareness. The faint scent of her perfume, something light and distinctly feminine, seemed to fill the close confines of the car, and every bit of his senses.
He felt a spurt of relief when they finally reached the street she’d named. It was nearly eleven o’clock. Most of the houses on this quiet residential block were aglow with holiday lights, though their darkened windows indicated that almost all of the residents were settled in for the night. He slowed as the house numbers began to reach the one he sought.
“I think that’s it,” she said a second after he spotted the house. It was a small one-story structure with a single car parked out front. Unlike those around it, this house wasn’t decorated with any lights. There also didn’t appear to be any on inside, at least none that were visible from the front.
“Was it just Decker and the sister who lived here?”
“I believe so. From what I remember, they inherited the house from their father, who died a few years ago. Their mother died when they were children.”
Filing the information away for future reference, he parked along the curb in front of the house and climbed out. He might have opened her door for her, but by the time he rounded the vehicle she was already out of the car. She started for the house as soon as he joined her, moving so automatically he almost wondered if she’d waited for him or intended to go on her own and leave him to follow.
Before he could bring up how they would handle this, she strode right up to the front door and knocked. For more than a minute, there was no answer.
“She may already be in bed,” Marcus