“That’s great. Thank you.”
“I’ll be in touch.” Andrews hung up.
She stared at the phone, allowing a grin over this victory.
“Looks like good news,” Novak said.
“Yeah. It might be.”
“Shield is taking the case.”
“They are. Their help will save legwork.”
He tapped his fingers on the bar. “The Hangman was high profile. Ken and your father would have been working nonstop.”
“It was an election year, and when the media learned of the story, the powers that be put big pressure on the cops. Ken said the entire department was involved.” Novak studied her, listening, watching. She liked the kind of distraction he offered. “I’m hoping fresh eyes will do the trick.”
“You have nothing to prove.”
His words hinted at unspoken emotions that had her ducking her head toward a lime in need of slicing. “I owe it to Mom, more than anyone. That last day we were driving home to see Jim, she was happy. Excited. Said a couple of times how much she loved him. And then, he was dead. The rumors about him being the Hangman always bothered her.”
Even now, if she closed her eyes, she could picture her mom’s smile while the wind blew her dark hair as they drove across town. “You Give Love a Bad Name” by Bon Jovi had been playing on the radio, and her mother had been singing along.
Seeing her father’s blood had tainted that memory along with so many others.
Novak frowned. “You okay?”
Julia shook her head. “Don’t worry about me; I always land on my feet. I know what I’m doing.”
Novak’s gaze didn’t waver. “The case took a toll on your father, according to Ken. And from what he said, you’re like him.”
She tipped her chin up. “I’m not going to crack, Novak. I’m not going anywhere. What I’m going to do is catch this killer.”
Again, he was quiet. Peeling off layers as fast as she piled them on. “I’ll see you tomorrow at the medical examiner’s office.”
“I’ll be there.” She watched as he walked out of the bar. Broad shoulders. A subtle swagger she’d noticed the first night he’d found her in the stairwell avoiding the loud crowds.
She’d broken her number-one rule when she’d slept with him: don’t date cops. Though dating wasn’t the right word. At least they’d not worked together. But now that they had a professional relationship, the sex would have to end. Her focus had to be on this case. Maybe that was for the best. She’d sensed that the last time they’d slept together, he wanted to get closer, get to know her better. Maybe if she was a different kind of person, a better person, she might let him. But she wasn’t.
It was past eight when Andrews entered Bowman’s office. He should have called it a night, but the Hangman case had already gotten under his skin. He hated the idea of a killer escaping justice.
A need to right the world’s wrongs had prompted him to join the army after he graduated college. His physical and mental quickness had caught the attention of his superiors. He’d moved up through the enlisted ranks and, within four years, was enrolled at OCS in Fort Benning, Georgia. He served for fifteen years on active duty until an IED explosion in Iraq ended his military career.
He couldn’t change what happened in Iraq, but he could help Vargas catch the Hangman.
“I delivered the news,” Andrews said. “Julia Vargas is ready to get started.”
Bowman sat back in his chair. “What have you found out about Jim Vargas?”
“He’s a hard one to pin down,” Andrews said. “Lives weren’t posted online twenty-five years ago as they are now, so no cells to trace or online profiles to build.”
“I know you. You’ve found something.”
“He had ten thousand dollars in credit card debt. Most of the card transactions were cash advances, so I have no way of knowing what he spent the money on. He also took out a second mortgage on his house. His death was ruled a suicide, so there was no life-insurance payout. His widow lost the house and moved into the apartment above her sister’s bar with Julia.”
Every man reacted differently to death. He’d seen the meekest push through the worst and the strongest break like glass. Jim Vargas broke.
“And there wasn’t a note?” Bowman asked.
“The wife said no. The first cop she called was his partner, Ken Thompson, and he was first on scene. He backed up her story about the note.”
“Partners look out for partners.”
“Possible.”
“Signs of foul play?” Bowman asked.
“None was detected. But his death rattled a lot in his ranks. The department opted not to give him a formal funeral.”
“Do you think he was the Hangman?” Bowman asked.
“Hard to say. A few cops talked anonymously to the media about it.” He had nothing but contempt for anonymous sources. They reminded him of the politically obsessed who’d distanced themselves from him after the explosion. “But there was never any solid proof.”
“You think Julia Vargas really wants to get to the bottom of the case?”
“Not my concern,” Andrews said. “I follow the facts. And if she doesn’t get to the bottom of it, I will.”
It was minutes after 1:00 a.m. when Lana stood outside of Billy’s watching as Julia locked the front door and flipped the “Open” sign to “Closed.”
“Bitch,” she muttered.
She staggered back into the shadows, cursing the extra shots of tequila that made her head spin. Benny always said she got sloppy when she was drunk. He’d be pissed if he saw her now.
But Benny wasn’t here. He was locked up. Awaiting a transport to prison that could eat up the rest of his life thanks to the dirt that bitch cop had dug up. His attorney still might get an appeal, but it was a long shot.
It wasn’t fair. Benny had taken Julia Vargas into his life and given her his trust. Treated her like family.
If she’d let Lana take her beating, then Benny would have gotten over his anger. He always did. He might have escaped the raid. And they’d still be together.
“I should torch this bar with you inside,” she muttered.
Smiling, she staggered as she turned to find herself standing face-to-face with a man. His face was hooded, his hands gloved. Immediately, she tensed. Tried to step around him.
He blocked her path.
“I don’t want any trouble, man,” she said.
“Neither do I.”
His voice had a very familiar ring, and she dug for a smile. “Do you work for Benny?”
“Let’s say I’m doing him a favor.”
The snap of a stun gun came seconds before voltage cut through her body. Her knees buckled, and he caught her, pulling her close against his side.
“Breathe,” he said. “And keep walking unless you want more of that.”
“I didn’t talk to no one,” she whispered. “Tell Benny I’m doing what he said to do.”
“You’re looking to make trouble for that cop, aren’t you?”
He’d been watching her. Shit. This was bad. “Look, maybe we can go somewhere and have some fun.”