CHAPTER 51
If looks could kill, Lizzy would have keeled over and died two minutes ago, right after they brought her into a holding room and shut the steel door with a clunk, leaving her alone with Detective Chase.
“Look at you,” he said, gesturing toward the cuffs around her wrists. “What the hell are you trying to prove? I already knew you were a bit of a nutcase, but breaking into people’s homes in the middle of the night? I don’t get it.”
“It was five in the morning when I knocked on Kohl’s door, practically lunchtime. If you would quit feeling sorry for yourself and open your eyes, maybe you could show everyone that you really deserved that Top Cop Award that I saw in your office.”
“Oh, I see—we’re going to talk about me, are we?”
“Yeah, why not? I’ve seen you more times this past month than I’ve seen my therapist, and yet I have no idea who you really are. I know you like to throw your weight around and act like a tough guy. I see that you don’t get much sleep, but I have no idea why since I sure don’t see you hauling in the bad guys. You got me,” Lizzy said. “Whoop-de-doo. Now what?”
He rubbed the bridge of his nose. When he looked up, he said, “You really do think you’re above the law, don’t you? You just love being America’s sweetheart.”
Lizzy sighed. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Your lucky little pet detective stunt. You and your sidekicks stumble into the dognapper who happened to steal a pug belonging to one of Sacramento’s most beloved citizens.”
“Jacque Mason is a beloved citizen?”
He grunted. “You’re telling me you had no idea who she was?”
“Not a clue.”
“Yeah, well, the phones are ringing off the hook. I guess you made your one call?”
Lizzy nodded.
“Did you tell one of your misfits to call the media or did you do the honors yourself?”
“No,” Lizzy said, “I didn’t call the media.”
“Well, somebody told them what’s going on, because suddenly I’m getting dozens of calls from fired-up citizens who think you should be given a pass considering all you’ve been through.”
Lizzy said nothing.
“And I don’t suppose you had anything to do with the Melony Reed story being leaked?”
“Again, I have no idea what you’re talking about.” But Lizzy knew that meant Derek Murphy had done his job. The rookie journalist must have pulled through and gotten his boss at Sac Bee to publish a story about the Ambassador Club.
“It doesn’t matter,” he said. “You’re not going to be able to break into any more houses or cause any more trouble while you’re behind bars.”
“I don’t care if you let me go or not, Detective. I just want you to arrest Dana Kohl before she kills anyone else.”
“Because you found a steel box under her bed?”
“Yes. A steel box that contained hundreds of pills and a firearm.”
“It’s legal to own a gun.”
“I understand that, but—”
“She has HIV.”
“What?”
“You heard me. Dana Kohl has been taking upwards of eight pills a day for years.”
“Why does she keep them under the bed?”
“I don’t know. You don’t store anything under your bed?”
“She’s a biochemist.”
“So you want me to go after every person in Sacramento with a major in chemistry?”
“It would be a start.”
He expelled a long breath.
“So what now?” Lizzy asked. “We’ll both sit here and twiddle our thumbs until another dead body turns up?”
He’d given up on using intimidation three conversations ago. Now he just looked tired. “You need help, Gardner.”
“Don’t we all?”
“I’ve already got a call in from your good friend Jimmy. But I could get a call from the president of the United States, and I wouldn’t let you out today. I think you need at least one night behind bars to think about what you’re doing.”
“You’re making a mistake.”
“So you keep telling me.”
“Why not be the hero for once . . . just once. Aubrey Singleton and Chelsea Webster are in danger.”
He shook his head and then opened the door. “Take her back to her cell. We’re done here.”