head? Usually it was just embarrassing; but since she had hit her head falling into the cellar, her head throbbed every time she flushed. She felt Kirk sit beside her and grab her wrist. At his touch she grew warmer still.
"What's wrong with you? Your pulse is racing."
She opened her eyes. "I'm fine. Just the aftermath of that slight concussion." She pulled her arm away. Much as she had to admit she enjoyed feeling him near to her, Christa didn't want Kirk realizing his effect on her. She tried to make her voice sound firmer than she felt. "All the more reason I should learn more. Don't you see..?"
"What I see is that if you ask questions of the wrong people they may decide to rid you of your curiosity permanently." The veins at his temples looked as if they would pop through the skin, and he paced the room as he spoke. "And while they're killing you, they might decide to just walk across the hall and do away with the only person who spent any real time with them."
Though she could understand his fear, Christa was still furious. "So why don't you do something besides, besides...picking your niece up from school?"
"You think I'm sitting around on my tailbone? Who do you think had the idea to compare those ballistics reports?" He stood only inches from her and raised the paper to her eye level. "I don't care how smart you think you are or whether you uncover the clue that solves these crimes. You do anything that brings these murderers close to my family and I'll be sorely tempted to break your other arm."
Still holding the paper he turned abruptly and stormed out of the apartment.
KIRK STARED AT THE PAGE OF NUMBERS AND LETTERS. He had met with no success when he tried to read the letters from right to left to see if they spelled anything that way. There was no pattern to the numbers, either. He had almost decided the file must be nonsense, perhaps just one of the many instructions the computer stored for itself. The phone rang and he pushed aside the remains of his breakfast as he answered.
Mark Hadley's news was part helpful, part frustrating. No, there was nothing in Chas Johnson's pockets except a billfold with no money and his keys. Feeling guilty about deceiving a friend, Kirk told him he simply wanted to be sure they weren't overlooking anything.
"And listen, buddy," Hadley continued. "The captain was serious about you taking a few days off. Why don't you try to forget about all this, spend some more time with Frances and Amy?"
"Amy's in school," Kirk said, more abruptly than he had intended. "I can't just sit here waiting to see if someone will waltz back into her life and whisk her away."
"I understand where you're coming from," Hadley said. "But, you're too close to it all. If you are the one to solve whatever this is, the accused's lawyers could say you were too eager to arrest someone, maybe planted evidence. That's the last thing you'd want."
Kirk knew Hadley was right. He could not let it go, but he couldn't keep putting Hadley in the middle. Kirk was willing to risk a reprimand, maybe even dismissal, to put Amy's kidnappers behind bars, but it wasn't fair to ask Hadley to risk the same. "Just one more thing."
"Reynolds..." Hadley began.
"Where'd the mayor get those computers?"
Kirk could sense Hadley's hesitation. "If I tell you, will you be convinced that I'm committed to this as much as you are?"
"Depends on what the answer is," Kirk said, trying to inject humor he didn't feel into his response.
"We're supposed to keep the lid on this. Mayor's afraid of bad publicity," Hadley said.
"Ask him if his kid were kidnapped, if he'd want us to worry about publicity," Kirk said.
"From a drug bust," Hadley said.
"Damn!" Kirk stood up and nearly threw the phone across his small dining room table. "I should have guessed they came from seized property." He was seething. What could the mayor have been thinking?
"Supposedly," Hadley continued, "everything on them was taken off. There shouldn't have been
"What's wrong with you? Your pulse is racing."
She opened her eyes. "I'm fine. Just the aftermath of that slight concussion." She pulled her arm away. Much as she had to admit she enjoyed feeling him near to her, Christa didn't want Kirk realizing his effect on her. She tried to make her voice sound firmer than she felt. "All the more reason I should learn more. Don't you see..?"
"What I see is that if you ask questions of the wrong people they may decide to rid you of your curiosity permanently." The veins at his temples looked as if they would pop through the skin, and he paced the room as he spoke. "And while they're killing you, they might decide to just walk across the hall and do away with the only person who spent any real time with them."
Though she could understand his fear, Christa was still furious. "So why don't you do something besides, besides...picking your niece up from school?"
"You think I'm sitting around on my tailbone? Who do you think had the idea to compare those ballistics reports?" He stood only inches from her and raised the paper to her eye level. "I don't care how smart you think you are or whether you uncover the clue that solves these crimes. You do anything that brings these murderers close to my family and I'll be sorely tempted to break your other arm."
Still holding the paper he turned abruptly and stormed out of the apartment.
KIRK STARED AT THE PAGE OF NUMBERS AND LETTERS. He had met with no success when he tried to read the letters from right to left to see if they spelled anything that way. There was no pattern to the numbers, either. He had almost decided the file must be nonsense, perhaps just one of the many instructions the computer stored for itself. The phone rang and he pushed aside the remains of his breakfast as he answered.
Mark Hadley's news was part helpful, part frustrating. No, there was nothing in Chas Johnson's pockets except a billfold with no money and his keys. Feeling guilty about deceiving a friend, Kirk told him he simply wanted to be sure they weren't overlooking anything.
"And listen, buddy," Hadley continued. "The captain was serious about you taking a few days off. Why don't you try to forget about all this, spend some more time with Frances and Amy?"
"Amy's in school," Kirk said, more abruptly than he had intended. "I can't just sit here waiting to see if someone will waltz back into her life and whisk her away."
"I understand where you're coming from," Hadley said. "But, you're too close to it all. If you are the one to solve whatever this is, the accused's lawyers could say you were too eager to arrest someone, maybe planted evidence. That's the last thing you'd want."
Kirk knew Hadley was right. He could not let it go, but he couldn't keep putting Hadley in the middle. Kirk was willing to risk a reprimand, maybe even dismissal, to put Amy's kidnappers behind bars, but it wasn't fair to ask Hadley to risk the same. "Just one more thing."
"Reynolds..." Hadley began.
"Where'd the mayor get those computers?"
Kirk could sense Hadley's hesitation. "If I tell you, will you be convinced that I'm committed to this as much as you are?"
"Depends on what the answer is," Kirk said, trying to inject humor he didn't feel into his response.
"We're supposed to keep the lid on this. Mayor's afraid of bad publicity," Hadley said.
"Ask him if his kid were kidnapped, if he'd want us to worry about publicity," Kirk said.
"From a drug bust," Hadley said.
"Damn!" Kirk stood up and nearly threw the phone across his small dining room table. "I should have guessed they came from seized property." He was seething. What could the mayor have been thinking?
"Supposedly," Hadley continued, "everything on them was taken off. There shouldn't have been
Similar Books
