The Wharf Read online

  “Shoot.”

  “Who was Dad’s partner in homicide?”

  “For most of his career or during the Phone Book Killer investigation?”

  “For most of his career.”

  “Joe Rigoletto. Joey and Joe.”

  “Why didn’t he work this case with Dad? He was working with a Brett Stillwell instead.”

  “Joe Rigoletto was dead by the time of the first Phone Book murder.”

  “Dead?”

  Kacie was peering at him over the top of the box, and he tapped Speaker for her.

  Sean continued. “He died on the job, beside Dad. They were investigating a couple of murders related to a suspected drug dealer. They got a tip on the guy’s whereabouts, and they were ambushed. Dad escaped injury but Joe wasn’t so lucky. Happened about six months before the first Phone Book murder.”

  Kacie sucked in a breath.

  “Who was that?”

  “That was Kacie Manning.” He glanced at the papers spread out on the bed. “We’re working.”

  Sean shouted across the line. “Hey, Kacie, we’re all looking forward to meeting you someday.”

  “Likewise.”

  “Is that it, Ry? Because I’ve got a lady waiting for me poolside.”

  “Yeah, and I can’t wait to meet the woman who loosened Sean Brody up enough to get him to take an extended vacation.”

  “You’ll meet Elise soon enough. You’re gonna love her. She’s sweet, straightforward, uncomplicated, honest—not at all like... Well, you’ll meet her.”

  “Looking forward to it.”

  They ended the call and Ryan cupped the phone between his hands, his brow furrowing.

  “She sounds like a paragon of virtue,” Kacie offered.

  “Huh? Who?”

  “Elise.” Kacie flipped back her hair along with another page of the file. “Sounds like a regular Mother Teresa.”

  “Umm, yeah. I heard from Eric that she’s really nice, a kindergarten teacher from Montana or someplace like that. Not Sean’s usual type, but then, his usual type never worked out for him.”

  “And who is this sweet, uncomplicated, honest woman not at all like?”

  Ryan finally dragged his gaze away from the page in front of him and met Kacie’s eyes. “What are you talking about?”

  “Your brother, he mentioned on the phone that Elise was not at all like someone. Who’s that someone?”

  “Our mother. I told you, after Dad’s death, she turned to booze and pills and never looked back. Her days were filled with hiding the stuff from us and obtaining it with phony prescriptions. Lies upon lies upon lies.”

  She looked down at her fidgeting fingers. “So, I guess it’s really important for you Brody boys to be with an honest woman, someone who will never lie to you like your mother did.”

  He snorted. “You’d think so, wouldn’t you? But there’s my brother Eric, who took back his fiancée after she kept his daughter from him. Can you imagine?”

  “She had a baby with your brother and didn’t tell him about it? And he took her back?”

  “Extenuating circumstances. She had her reasons, and those two are made for each other—true love and all that.”

  “Must be nice.”

  Ryan tapped the tip of his pencil against the side of the box. “Don’t you think that’s weird?”

  “That Eric took her back?”

  “What? No. Don’t you think it’s weird that my dad’s longtime partner in homicide died in an incident on the job six months before the case that would bring my dad down?”

  “I guess Joey and Joe turned out to be the bad-luck duo.”

  “You could say that. But why is it that every time I look at this case, I find out something new and disturbing? You know my brother Eric was kidnapped during this case, right?”

  “Yes.”

  “He just found out recently that some coven of witches was involved in his kidnapping.”

  Kacie hugged a file to her chest. “Do you think they also had something to do with the Phone Book Killer? Maybe he was a member of the coven? I don’t remember the occult being associated with any of the slayings.”

  “It wasn’t. I don’t know where that leaves us, but I’d like to find out more about Joe Rigoletto’s death.”

  “Marie Giardano?”

  “Most likely.”

  Kacie uncurled her legs and stretched them in front of her, pointing her toes. “By the way, the killer started contacting your dad by leaving packages at the station for him. They contained notes with letters cut and pasted from magazines and bits of info about the crimes that only the killer could’ve known.”

  His gaze skimmed her calf where her pant leg had risen and settled on her delicate feet with her blue-painted toenails. What were they just discussing?

  Notes.

  He lined up his spine along the headboard, bumping his head against the wall. “The people who suspected him of being the Phone Book Killer always claimed he’d left those notes himself, maybe to garner publicity.”

  “Part of what led to their suspicions about him is that nobody ever saw anyone leave those notes.” She crossed her legs at the ankle and began tapping her toes together.

  Was she trying to torture him?

  “Then they found some plaster in his car, suggesting he might have been making his own arm brace, just like the Phone Book Killer did.” Ryan crossed his arms behind him, cradling his head against his laced fingers. “There had been one or two witnesses who reported that a man in a cast had been in the area where the victims were abducted.”

  “But nobody ever ID’d Joseph Brody. I’m not sure there was much of a case against him, just suspicion and innuendo.”

  He swung his legs off the bed and hunched forward on his knees. “A lot of that came from his own department, the brass.”

  “Usually a P.D. circles the wagons for one of its own. I thought your dad was a good cop, an excellent detective.”

  “Maybe they were worried about the stain on the department. From what I remember when Sean used to talk about this stuff all the time, there had been some bribery or something uncovered at the department not too long before these murders. They didn’t want to go down that road again, so they jumped on the pithy evidence tying my father to the murders.”

  Kacie spread her hands. “There’s so much here, I can’t believe I ever thought your father was the Phone Book Killer.”

  “There’s still a lot that doesn’t add up. The biggest mystery of all is why he killed himself if he wasn’t guilty.”

  “Maybe it had nothing to do with the case. Did you ever consider that possibility? Maybe he was ill or in some kind of other trouble. Gambling debts? Some kind of graft? You just said there’d been some trouble with the department prior to the murders.”

  “I suppose gambling and graft are better than murder.”

  She shoved a sheaf of papers from her lap and hopped from the bed. “I’m not trying to imply that your father was a criminal. Just looking at other possibilities. I spent too long with tunnel vision, believing what I wanted to believe.”

  “No offense taken. Just be honest with me, Kacie. That’s all I ask.”

  “I swear, no more secrets.” She drew a cross over her heart. “Back to the station tomorrow to conduct a follow-up? I want to know if they have any leads on Duke Bannister’s murder.”

  “Then there’s the attack on Cookie.”

  “There are so many loose ends, it’s making me dizzy.”

  Closing her eyes, she massaged her temples and Ryan was at her side in a nanosecond. “Sit down. Let me get you some water.”

  She opened one eye and skewered him with it. “It was a figure of speech. I’m not really dizzy.”

  He squeezed her shoulders and laughed...and it felt good. She felt good. “That’s what you said when you headed into the bathroom, and look what happened in there.”

  “I toppled over reaching for the washcloth. It could’ve happened to anyone. I didn’t need a
shower assistant.”

  “I didn’t hear you complaining.” He raised one eyebrow at her, his blood stirring again.

  “Who in their right mind would complain about...that?”

  He traced her jaw with his thumb and then dropped his hands and stepped back. Could he trust this woman? Eric may have forgiven Christina for a much more egregious lie, but those two had history. He’d just met Kacie a week before, and she’d been lying to him from the get-go. What other secrets did she have up her sleeves?

  She crossed her arms, tucking her fists against her body. “So, we’ll meet tomorrow morning and head to the station?”

  “You’re not getting rid of me. I made a mistake leaving you on your own this morning.”

  Golden sparks flew from her eyes and her lush lips parted as her breath quickened.

  “I’ll bunk on the floor.”

  Her mouth snapped closed, and she compressed her lips into a thin smile. “Afraid I’ll seduce you with my wicked, wicked ways?”

  “Nope.” He reached past her, grabbed two pillows and threw them on the floor. “I’m afraid of what I’ll do to you.”

  * * *

  WHAT HAD HE meant by being afraid of what he’d do to her? Kacie rolled onto her left side again to peer at the large, slumbering form on her hotel-room floor.

  What did she know about Chief Ryan Brody anyway? One week before, she’d believed he was the third son of a serial killer, a killer who’d murdered her mother.

  And now? Now she couldn’t imagine her life without him. She punched her pillow before scrunching it beneath her head. She’d come into this thing planning to remain cool, calm and collected. She’d pump Brody for information and tell her story, her way.

  She’d been able to do that with a sociopath like Daniel Walker, but all her reason had flown out the window the minute Ryan had gathered her in his strong arms.

  With thoughts of the murders spinning in her head and her sexy protector on the floor next to her, sleep was long in coming.

  The next morning, Kacie woke up to the sound of the shower. She bolted upright. Ryan had packed up his makeshift bed, stacking the two pillows on the chair and folding the blanket on top of them.

  Maybe if she heard a bump in the shower, she could come to his rescue. She’d be the best damned shower assistant he ever had. She’d soap up every inch of his body, not once but twice. She’d even climb in there with him. She’d kneel before him with the warm spray pounding her back, and she’d...

  “Earth to Kacie.”

  She glanced up to find the object of her desire leaning out of the bathroom door, fully clothed. “I’ll be done in a few minutes. Are you feeling okay?”

  “I’m fine.” Considering he’d just ruined a perfectly good daydream.

  “Still sore?”

  “Nothing a little pain reliever can’t cure.” And a warm shower with a special helper.

  “I’ll leave the bottle by the sink in here. I had to pop a few more myself. I think those air bags can do more damage than a steering wheel to the chest.” He raised his inner forearms, which were still bruised by the air bag.

  “Ouch.”

  “Do you mind if we stop off at my room so I can change into some clean clothes?”

  “No problem.” She stepped past him into the bathroom and started to swing the door closed.

  He stopped it with his hand. “Are you steady on your feet now?”

  Should she tell him another lie and say that she was about ready to collapse?

  “I’ve had a good night’s sleep and I’m fine. I’ll leave the door unlocked if it makes you feel better.”

  “It would.”

  He removed his hand and she closed the door with a snap. She’d actually just told him another lie anyway. She did not have a good night’s sleep.

  She stepped into the tub and turned her back to the water. How could she have possibly slept with Ryan sprawled on her floor?

  They could’ve shared the bed and kept their hands to themselves. She soaped up her hands and rubbed her body, her eyelashes fluttering. Who was she kidding? She wouldn’t have been able to keep her hands to herself. Maybe if they laid a brick wall down the middle of the bed.

  Ryan tapped on the door. “Doing okay in there?”

  “Yeah, yeah.”

  “Is that what you call a short shower?”

  It would’ve been short if she hadn’t started daydreaming again and pretending her hands were Ryan’s. They were a poor substitute anyway.

  She turned off the water and toweled off before climbing out of the tub. She dressed in the bathroom and wiped the steam from the mirror with the towel, then pushed open the bathroom door and called into the other room. “We need to make a list of what to ask at the station. We’ve got the doll, Bannister’s murder, Cookie’s attack...”

  He finished for her. “My car, your abduction and some questions for Marie about Joe Rigoletto.”

  She poked her head out of the bathroom. “Do you think the cops will run us out of town on a rail after all that?”

  “I just know this all would’ve been easier if my brother were here.”

  “He’d come back if you called him, wouldn’t he?”

  “Sure, he would, but it’s been so long since the guy’s had a real vacation and even longer since he’s had a real woman. My brothers and I have been telling him for years to relax, and now that he’s finally taken our advice, I’m not going to reel him back in.”

  “Then you’re doing the right thing. And he does have allies in the department.”

  “John Curtis. We can count on him.”

  “Then let’s get going, after stops for clean clothes and breakfast.”

  When they hit the station, they made the rounds. The lab had gotten nothing from the doll that Daniel Walker denied ever sending to her, and the detectives had no leads on Bannister’s murder or the attack on Cookie Phelps, who was still in a coma.

  “Give me something, John.” Ryan crossed his arms as he perched on the end of Detective Curtis’s desk. “What about my car?”

  “Aha!” Curtis held up one finger as he shuffled through some papers on his messy desk. “Your brake lines were cut.”

  “I figured that. Any idea who did it?”

  “Someone who followed you to that taco stand in South San Francisco.”

  “That’s brilliant. No wonder my brother insists on working with you.”

  “Ouch,” John said with mock pain. “You small-town cops have no idea the pressures we face in the big city.”

  “I’ll give you one more chance. Anything on the guy who tried to abduct Kacie?”

  Curtis shook his finger at Ryan and smiled at Kacie. “You see? I was saving the best for last.”

  Kacie’s pulse jumped. “You found him?”

  “Not quite. Follow me to Lieutenant Healy’s office. We got something from the hotel video camera.”

  Kacie squealed and grabbed Ryan’s arm. “Finally.”

  “Don’t get your hopes up. It’s pretty grainy, but maybe you’ll recognize the guy.”

  They approached Lieutenant Healy’s office and Curtis knocked. “Brody and Ms. Manning are here to look at the video.”

  Healy looked up from his desk. “What the hell is going on here, Brody?”

  “I guess someone doesn’t want Ms. Manning to write this book.”

  “Drugging and kidnapping her is an odd way to stop her.” He steepled his fingers and peered at Kacie over the pinnacle. “Are you sure this isn’t related to your other book, Ms. Manning? The panic over the doll. Bannister’s warning from Daniel Walker. Isn’t this just more of the same?”

  “I don’t think so. Walker doesn’t know or have any interest in Cynthia Phelps.”

  “Ah, but Cookie’s predicament could be due to her past as a hooker. Some pimps never forget.”

  “If we can get to the bottom of all these attacks, maybe that’s exactly what we’ll discover, but we need to get to the bottom of them first.”

  H
e spun his laptop around to face them. “Then start here. Do you recognize that man? We’re pretty sure he’s the one who forced the hotel employee to deliver that room service to your door and then jabbed you with a needle.”

  She bent forward at the waist and squinted at the grainy footage. A middle-aged man with graying hair and what looked like a scarf around his neck loped through a side door of the hotel.

  “Is that the best you got?”

  “That’s it, but if you look at his neck, that could be his ski mask pulled down.”

  “Yes, I see that.”

  “The hotel is sure he’s no guest, and the timing of his entrance into the hotel matched the timing of your abduction.”

  “Wait—play it again and stop it when he turns his face to the side.”

  She stared at the profile of the man who’d drugged her and forcibly removed her from the hotel and felt—nothing. He was a stranger. Grayish hair curled at the nape of his neck, and his prominent nose might make him stand out from a crowd, but she didn’t recognize him.

  She turned to Ryan. “Have you ever seen him before?”

  “Nope.”

  “Oh well, at least it’s something. I’d probably recognize him if I saw him again, so he’s lost the element of surprise.”

  Healy held up a pencil and tested its point. “Why do you suppose he tried to kidnap you?”

  “I have no clue, but your tone of voice indicates you might.”

  Ryan had stepped closer to her, brushing her arm with his. “Let’s hear it, Lieutenant.”

  “Just seems convenient that Brody here was able to rescue you in time, and the perp just drops you and is able to get away, even though he looks about half Brody’s size and strength.”

  Ryan tensed beside her. “Go on.”

  “Would be a nice little companion story to the release of the book—author gets abducted while writing the true-crime story of the Phone Book Killer.”

  Ryan clenched a fist, and she covered it with her hand. “Yeah, okay, I want another bestseller so badly I’m willing to hire someone to bash a poor kid on the side of the head and inject me with a horse tranquilizer. Save your theories for the movie script, Lieutenant, and just do your job.”

  Curtis glared while Healy snatched his laptop. “We’ll let you know if we discover anything else.”