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Wednesday, February 25,
9:05 p.m.
The elevator dinged and there they were. Zoe narrowed her eyes when Reagan put his arm around Mayhew’s shoulders. She’d known there was more going on than Reagan just guarding Mayhew’s house. Now her mind scrambled as to how to make the most of it.
„Here they come,“ Zoe hissed. „Scott, are you ready?“
„Rolling,“ he said tersely and she stepped in front of the couple, gauging their reactions. Mayhew’s eyes flared and Reagan’s teeth clenched. Very, very good.
„Miss Mayhew, can you comment on the condition of Vincent Potremski?“
„No.“ She and Reagan started walking and Zoe sidestepped them.
„How do you respond to recent allegations of impropriety in John Alden’s office?“
Mayhew stopped dead and shot her a look of complete incredulity. She shook her head, sending her curls bounding. „No comment, Miss Richardson. Now if you’ll excuse us.“ They started walking again, but Zoe spied the telltale tremble in Mayhew’s hands that she’d come to look for in times of stress. Mayhew might look poised, but she wasn’t.
„Isn’t it true that your friend was nearly beaten to death because of you? That this is your fault? That he’ll probably be a vegetable for the rest of his life?“ she asked to Mayhew’s back and once again Mayhew stopped dead. But when she turned, there was no incredulity on her face, only rage. Zoe waited, senses tingling. She’d broken Mayhew’s control. Finally.
Mayhew advanced a step and Reagan tugged at her shoulder. „Kristen,“ he said quietly, but clearly enough to be heard. „She’s not worth it.“
For a moment it looked as though Reagan had won and Zoe felt the pang of disappointment. But then Mayhew took another trembling step forward. „First of all, Miss Richardson, the correct term is ‘persistent vegetative state,’ and I’m sure the families of those so afflicted would appreciate your consideration in this regard. Secondly, you wield a great deal of power with that microphone, Miss Richardson, and you, sir, with your camera. I’d hope that you’d use it to help bring justice to i
And for just a brief moment, Zoe wished for someone to lean on, too. Then the brief moment was a
She had a piece to prepare.
Wednesday, February 25,
10:30 p.m.
„Who is Leah Broderick? Please.“
He looked down at Hillman with contempt. The man was arrogant and powerful when he sat high above the courtroom. But now, when threatened, Hillman became a quivering mass of nothing. He wished Leah could be here to see him now.
He’d transferred Hillman from his van to his basement with relative ease. Hillman had resisted lying down on the table, though, and a little persuasion in the form of a blow to his head had been necessary. Hillman regained consciousness and spent the next hour fruitlessly pulling at his bonds. Then the begging had begun. It was rewarding to see such arrogance reduced.
He took out his gun and ignoring Hillman’s pleas for mercy, methodically put a bullet in the judge’s left knee. Hillman’s scream was high and shrill, his body writhing. Hillman began to sob and again he wished Leah could be here.
„Just a precaution, Judge Hillman. I can’t have you ru
Then he went upstairs to lie down on his bed, more exhausted than he should be. He had time for a few hours of sleep, then he had to get back to the hunt.
Wednesday, February 25,
11:40 p.m.
„How’s Kristen?“ Mia asked by way of greeting.
„She’s fine.“ Way better than fine, Abe thought. „She’s waiting at our desks.“
Mia’s eyes went sly. „Hope I didn’t disturb anything. You know, calling so late.“
Abe shook his head, willing his face not to break into a self-satisfied grin and not entirely succeeding. „Not really. I was dozing.“ Next to Kristen, in her bed. His hand cupping her bare breast, her butt tucked snugly against his groin. Life was good.
Mia tucked her tongue in her cheek. „On Kristen’s sofa.“
„Absolutely,“ he lied and saw her swallow her grin. He pointed to the window that looked into the interview room. „Who we got?“
„Craig Du
„Who is missing.“
Mia nodded. „Yep.“ She pushed the door open and sat down next to the thirty-something man who nervously twisted his chauffeur cap in his hands like a Frisbee. „This is my partner, Mr. Du
Abe extended his hand. „Detective Reagan.“
Du
„The life of celebrity,“ Abe said dryly. „So you last saw Judge Hillman when?“
„About five o’clock.“
„And you were where?“ Abe asked.
Du
Mia rolled her eyes. „Come on, Du
Du
Mia gestured impatiently. „And he goes where?“
Du
Abe shook his head. „First Alden and now Hillman. Don’t any of those guys sleep with their own wives? Okay, Mr. Du
„Her name is Rosemary Quincy, and they meet at a hotel in Rosemont. He’s normally back by six-thirty, seven at the latest.“
Mia ran her tongue over her teeth, clearly biting back what probably would have been a fitting assessment of Hillman’s staying power. „So how long did you wait?“
Again Du
„Why didn’t she call us herself?“ Mia asked.
Du
„That’s not likely,“ Abe said. „What about Mrs. Hillman? Does she know?“
Du
„Both,“ Mia said.
„I don’t think she knows about Rosemary. Hillman would be broke if she did. And about his being missing, yeah, she knew. She called me herself, about eight. I…“
„You told her that he was somewhere else,“ Mia finished, a
„Yeah. Look, I came here of my own free will. Can I leave now?“
Abe handed him a notepad and a pencil. „First write down Rosemary’s name and number, your car description, license plate number. Then you can go.“ He gestured to Mia and together they left the room. Shutting the door behind them, Abe looked at Du