“Max, you get any whiffs of 452 around this?”
Trust Witt, a mind like a bulldog. He was back to numbers and connections. “No. Not a one.” Not that she’d looked for it.
Tell him about the gun. Cameron’s voice in her head.
Why, if he’d eliminated that problem?
Witt needs to know everything if he’s going to help you.
Fine. Better get that bit of bad news out. “I had a gun.”
Sweat popped out along her upper lip in that lengthy silence. Finally, inevitably, Witt gave her one harsh word, “Had?”
“It’s missing.”
He gave a small laugh of pure exasperation. “Jesus H. Christ, Max, when you dig a hole, you dig deep.” She heard a breath long and loud enough to be called a sigh. “We need damage control. Report the theft right now.”
“In my own jurisdiction?” A stall since she already knew the answer to that one.
“Now, so it’ll be on file when these guys check.”
You can’t. It wasn’t registered.
Shit. That wasn’t Cameron’s plan. “I’ve got a problem.”
Witt made a sound. She heard him roll his eyes. “What?”
“The gun wasn’t registered.”
A crack. Curiously like the sound of Witt slamming his fist into metal. “Like it was a cold gun?”
She waited a beat for Cameron’s answer. “He says yes.”
“Why the hell did he need it?”
“I don’t know.” She didn’t want to know.
All he said was, “This is bad, Max.”
Umm, yep. Cameron had gotten an illegal gun for God only knew what reason. Bud was framing her. “There’s something else.”
“I’m terrified to hear.
“Along with Cameron’s watch and his cuff links, there was—”
He didn’t wait for her to finish. “Traynor’s got another trophy to plant on the last guy, doesn’t he?”
How easily his thoughts ran right alongside hers. And what he really meant... Giddiness turned her head. Witt believed her. She kept the elation from her voice since it wasn’t appropriate under the circumstances. Just the facts, ma’am. “A tie pin. One single ruby. It’s the one in the newspaper photo.”
“Fuck.” The epithet burst against her ear. “Why’d you keep that shit, Max?” A strangled pause, then uncharacteristically, an apology. “Sorry. And it’s not shit.” Another hesitation, shorter. “And you’d want to keep it.” A beat this time between sentences. “But the gun, why didn’t you get rid of it?”
How should she know? Why had she kept Cameron’s shirts, underwear, socks, and shaving kit? Why had she driven her own car down to that 7-11, following him like some enraged harpy? Why had she kept Cameron, his ghost, like an animal on a tether? The thought was as apocalyptic as it was honest. She strengthened her voice. No use sounding like a weakling with Witt.
“I didn’t know I still had it.” Any of it.
His question hung in the dead air between them. How the hell could she not know she had a gun in her apartment?
“If it wasn’t registered, Bud can’t use it to hurt me.”
“He took something, he can leave something behind.”
“But he doesn’t know it can’t be traced.”
“Were the serial numbers filed off?”
Cameron supplied a simple yes. Bud would see that, too.
With her silence, Witt stopped questioning and started issuing orders instead. “I’ll be right there. Don’t leave.”
“There’s something I have to do.”
He paused. She could almost hear his mind’s struggle. If she’d been standing next to him, he might well have put his hands around her throat. Though his next words were innocuous, his tone set her heart racing. Cold and deadly. “You’ll make it worse.”
“The third one might already be dead, might have been killed along with the others last night. You probably can’t give me the alibi you’re trying to anyway.”
“Don’t you leave, Max.” His voice stuttered in her ear, as if the phone jiggled against his mouth. He was running to his truck. He’d be down to her in minutes. Or he’d send a patrol car.
“I have to do this.”
“Fuck whatever you think you have to do. You goddamn stay right there. I’ll fix this.”
“No, you won’t.”
“Don’t—”
Max cut the connection on him.
For a short time, she’d thought she could let Witt help. She’d believed that she wasn’t alone. But the truth had always been out there. This was her battle. Her foe was Bud. And only she could save herself from whatever he had planned for her.
She had no other choice but to go hunting for Bud Traynor.
Chapter Twenty-Three
Sutter was home when Max arrived. “Can I borrow your car?”