‘Oh God.’ Adam immediately regretted having eaten the power bar because the smell . . . ‘Shit.’
Trip grunted his agreement, loosening his tie. ‘Makes my eyes fuckin’ water.’
The radio crackled. ‘Adam?’ Deacon asked.
‘Somebody or something is very dead,’ Adam said. Covering his mouth with a handkerchief, he entered the house and checked the thermostat. ‘Heat’s on eighty-eight.’ He looked around the corner into the living room. ‘And there is the master of the house.’
Sprawled on a leather chair was Broderick Voss, a tourniquet still tied to his left arm, the needle still in his vein. ‘Fucking hell,’ Adam muttered. ‘Voss is dead,’ he said into the radio. ‘Come on in. We need to search for anyone else who might be here, living or not.’
‘Coming around to the front,’ Deacon said and the radio went quiet.
Trip had crouched next to Voss’s body, studying the fingers of his right hand, which were drawn into a claw where they dangled off the arm of the chair. ‘Full rigor, so he’s been dead at least twelve hours. We know he was alive as of yesterday afternoon because he spoke in front of a room full of political donors.’ He turned to look at the gas fireplace behind him, where the flame burned strong. ‘The heat being on high and a fire in the fireplace is gonna fuck with the time of death.’
Adam nodded. ‘I know. I hope Dr Washington will be able to get us something close.’ The ME was damn good, so if anyone could, it was Carrie Washington. ‘We can’t assume he’s the only body in the house,’ he added, ‘especially since he’s had all these parties lately. Trip and Nash, take the upstairs. Hanson, you and I can search this floor. Deacon and Scarlett will take the basement. I’ve got to make some calls.’
Walking outside, Adam pulled the front door closed behind him and motioned to two of the uniformed officers. ‘Each of you stand watch at one of the gates. Nobody comes in unless I clear it, okay? Thanks.’ The two cops nodded and took off at a jog.
His first call was to Carrie Washington’s office. Carrie herself answered, surprising him, and when he’d informed her that they’d found at least one body and the circumstances, she said she’d be there personally.
‘Make sure you keep all doors and windows closed, okay?’
He gave the closed front door a scowl. ‘Hurry, please. We’d like to open some windows. It’s foul.’
‘I understand,’ she said. ‘See you soon.’
His next call was to Quincy, who sounded out of breath when he answered. ‘Need you here at Voss’s house,’ Adam said. ‘He’s dead.’
‘Fuck,’ Quincy said. ‘How? For how long?’
‘Looks like he OD’d and I don’t know yet. Long enough to smell really bad. But the heat’s cranked up and the fireplace is going. What’s your ETA?’
‘Fuck,’ Quincy said again, frustrated. ‘I took a break to grab a bite. You’ve kept me running today.’
‘Sorry?’ Adam said sarcastically, then sighed. ‘Look, I really am sorry, but I would appreciate you getting here ASAP.’
‘Fine,’ Quincy said wearily. ‘As soon as I can.’
‘Tha—’ Adam started, but Quincy had already ended the call, so he dialed Isenberg.
‘Well?’ she demanded.
‘Voss is dead,’ he told her, giving her what they knew. ‘Carrie’s on her way. Hopefully we’ll get a decent TOD.’
She sighed heavily. ‘I was kind of hoping that you wouldn’t find him at home.’
Adam understood. ‘I hoped the same because we hadn’t heard from him, even after sticking cops in front of his house. I figured if he was home, he’d be pulling the strings somehow. But that’s not the case. He’s been dead since this morning. At least.’
‘So he didn’t shoot at you.’
‘And he didn’t kill Bruiser,’ Adam added. ‘He is connected, though. Jolee and Linnie were here. And he’s connected to Meredith.’ Voss had threatened Meredith, terrified his child, and assaulted his wife. ‘And . . . I get the feeling he was hiding something big. Hopefully his financials will tell the story.’
Another pregnant silence. ‘Do you have something you want to tell me, Adam?’
That I know Voss was being blackmailed? ‘That I want to? Nope.’
She actually growled at him. ‘That you’re going to tell me?’
‘Whatever it was won’t help at this point, but his financials will.’
‘That’s why you wanted them on the warrant? You knew we’d find something?’
‘I had a strong hunch.’
She growled again. ‘I have a headache,’ she said, sounding cranky.
Adam took a look around him to make sure no one was within hearing distance. ‘Lynda,’ he said quietly. ‘I did get a tip. But it just confirmed what we knew – that Voss was hiding something so big that he tried to scare Meredith away from his daughter.’
‘I get that. I do. But . . .’ Another sigh. ‘You just got your head on straight and things are going so well for you. I don’t want to see you torpedo your own career because you fucked up and took information you didn’t have a warrant to see.’
She’d always had his back. ‘I won’t fuck it up,’ he promised. ‘You have my word. Even if I didn’t have my head on straight, I wouldn’t do that to you.’
Again the silence. Then another sigh. ‘Okay. I’ll let it go. For now.’
‘Thank you.’
‘Get those financials, Adam.’
‘Yes, ma’am. Gotta go.’
He ended the call and drew in a last breath of fresh air. Time to deal with Voss.
Cincinnati, Ohio,
Sunday 20 December, 8.20 P.M.
He quickly texted Mike. Where r u?
Downtown. Searching for ur runaway hooker.
Your runaway hooker. The jab irritated the fuck out of him. He and Mike needed to come to an understanding about who was the boss. And it wasn’t Mike. Have a job for you.
The reply was quick and flippant. I live to serve.
He rolled his eyes. For a guy who’d already fucked up twice today, Mike was being an arrogant asshole. Use a rifle. Take night goggles. Stay far away. Sending you descriptions of targets. He typed furiously for a minute, then hit SEND.
A slight pause. Thot u didn’t trust me w/that one.
He didn’t, but he didn’t have much choice. Am busy. Don’t fuck it up. Here is location. He pasted a map link, then hit SEND and waited for Mike to assess the map.
The reply took about a minute this time. Why rifle? Will b difficult shot.
He smirked. U r the best. U said so urself. Too hard?
Fuck u. Why rifle?
He considered his answer. Because targets r accompanied by a shot better than u and me together, he finally typed. Stay back and have escape ready.
OK fine, Mike replied, the huff of irritation nearly audible in the text.
He shook his head. Hopefully Mike would get the job done this time.
Cincinnati, Ohio,
Sunday 20 December, 8.20 P.M.
‘I told you that I was fine,’ Meredith said as Kate pushed her in a wheelchair through the hospital hallway, Mallory trailing behind. Since they were already in the hospital – and they’d re-donned their wigs – they’d decided to visit Agent Troy. ‘I do not have a concussion, just a damn bump. I can walk perfectly fine.’
‘Hush,’ Kate said. ‘You’re lucky they didn’t keep you overnight for observation.’ She looked over her shoulder. ‘You okay back there, Mal? You look a little green.’
Kate stopped them outside Troy’s room and Meredith drew Mallory around the chair so that she could see her face. Mallory’s face was pale, panic filling her eyes. ‘You having trouble being in a hospital again, honey?’ Meredith asked her.
Mallory swallowed hard. ‘I thought I’d be all right, but this is bringing back a lot of very bad memories.’ Because the monster who’d held Mallory captive for six long years, forcing her into online child pornography, had tried to kill her when she finally escaped. She’d spent several days in this very hospital last summer, recovering.
Kate bit her lip. ‘I’m sorry, honey. I should have sent you back out with Clarke.’