Lisa Scottoline - Devil's corner

"Who is this guy?" Reheema held up the record, her eyes searching Vicki's in a way that compelled the truth. "You holdin' out on me? You get this record the same way you got Toner's?"

"Uh, yes." Vicki felt her heart pounding. She should have left the records at home, but she'd been afraid Dan would come across them. And now that Reheema knew about James, Vicki couldn't lie to her.

"What aren't you tellin' me?" Reheema asked, her voice wounded, and then she came up to speed. She tore off her sunglasses, and her dark eyes hardened with a familiar distrust. "He has something to do with my mother."

"Maybe, maybe not. They're not sure." "Tell me!" Reheema said, but it came out like a command, dispelling the warmth between them. "I will, but-" "I have a right to know what happened to my mother." "You do-" "She's my mother. Tell me what you know!" "Calm down and I will." "Fine." "Good. Thank you." So Vicki began, thanking God she had gotten the gun from Reheema first. She told Reheema everything, taking her through the HIDTA records, too, and by the time she was finished, she could see that Reheema was calmer, more reasonable. "So as much as you would love to get him, he may not be the killer."

"But he could be. Or he could know who is." "No. Ray James has my phone, is all we know." "So when do these ATF suits go talk to him?" "ATF may not have jurisdiction and they'll have to work with Philly, because murder is a state-law crime. The Philly cops were represented at this meeting last night, and this would come under their jurisdiction-"

"Stop." Reheema held up a palm. "Bottom line."

"Your mother's murder is a matter for the Philly police. They're on it. You met Detective Melvin that morning, right? He's a good guy. He'll question James as soon as he lawfully can. Understand?"

"Understand." "Any questions? It is kind of complicated." "No questions." Reheema turned in the driver's seat, twisted on the ignition, and backed out of the space. She went forward too fast, almost hitting the bumper of the PECO truck.

"Reheema, where are we going?"

"Where'd you think?"

"Reheema, we can't go over there." Vicki held on tight, literally and figuratively, as the Intrepid took off down the street.

"I can."

"It could compromise their investigation."

"They ain't investigatin'."

"Yes, they are."

"No, they're not." Reheema hit the gas to pass a furniture truck. "My mother's last in line, behind your ATF friend and the little blond kids at the Toys ‘R' Us. You said so yourself."

Vicki flushed. "We can do this the right way."

"I'm not gonna do anything wrong."

"You can't."

"I'm not." Reheema ran a red light, ignoring a loud HONK! "All I'm gonna do is go over and ask the man a few questions."

"But it's not our place to do that."

"It's my place."

"I have another idea."

"Me, too, but you took my gun."

Vicki was pretty sure Reheema was kidding. "Instead, why don't we call Homicide and ask them what progress they're making? Make sure that they got the word about Ray James? Find out what they're doing about him?"

"Go ahead. Call 'em. Tell 'em I said how they doin'." Reheema barely slowed at the corner of the street, then took a right, heading for the main road.

"Okay, I will." Vicki reached in her purse, bypassed the loaded gun, and retrieved her cell phone, then dialed Philly Homicide. She knew the number from her old D.A. days. "Detective Al Melvin, please."

"He's not in," answered a gruff male voice, which Vicki knew belonged to the desk officer, a detective stuck with answering the phones this tour. "Detective, this is Vicki Allegretti. I'm an AUSA and I'm calling about the Arissa Bristow case." "Who?" "Allegretti." "No, the case." "The victim's name is Arissa Bristow." "Is it open?" Reheema's eyes shifted knowingly, and Vicki hit a button to lower the volume on the cell. "Yes, of course, it's open. Ms. Bristow was killed last Friday night, stabbed to death in a house on Lincoln Street." "What's your office have to do with it?" "I'm calling as a friend of the family." Reheema snorted. The detective asked, "Okay, how can I help you?" "Detective Melvin was investigating the case, with a partner." "Melvin and his partner are both over at City Hall." Gulp. "Is there a number there where I can reach them?" "Listen Mrs. Bristow-" "Allegretti." "I'll leave a message you called, that's the best I can do." "When will they get the message?" "Soon as they can. We're all a little busy lately, with what happened at Toys ‘R' Us." Sarcasm tinged his tone. "You seen the news lately?" Reheema's mouth flattened to an I-told-you-so line, and Vicki got mad.

"You know, I wouldn't think you guys would drop the ball just because another murder comes along. There was an ongoing investigation, and I'm here with a member of the victim's family."

"My condolences to the family, and I assure you, Detective Melvin is working the case. Is that what you wanted? What you called for?"

"No. I wanted to know what progress Detective Melvin had made, and specifically, if he has contacted a lead named Ray James yet."

"I'll let him know you asked. Thanks for calling."

"Thank you." Vicki gave him her cell number and flipped the phone closed as the Intrepid veered around a corner, racing to Lincoln Street. At this point, they were half an hour away.

"So, did they say hey?" "We're not gonna go crazy here." "No one's goin' crazy," Reheema said, and ran another red light. "You keep running the lights, we're gonna pick up a cop." "No, we won't. Didn't you see your boss on TV? The cops are at Toys ‘R' Us."

"Think of it this way," Vicki said, changing tacks. "If we go there now, we'll be showing our hand, like you said. Right now, James doesn't know that HIDTA is recording his phone calls. He doesn't know they're building a case against him. If we go over and start asking questions about the phone, he's gonna ditch the phone for sure."

"You might be right." "Good," Vicki sighed, relieved. "You might also be wrong. Or what happens to him after might not matter." Vicki felt her first tingle of true fear. "He's dangerous. James is a dangerous man." Reheema smiled. "You got a gun." "I won't use it, and neither will you." "I'm dangerous, either way." "Oh, that's great." Vicki started to lose her temper, which she knew wouldn't help her cause. "Reheema. I guarantee that however tough you think you are, James is a lot tougher." "I can handle him. Record says he's five six, one fifty. I got a couple inches on him and I've been lifting for almost a year." Yikes . "That's not the point." "Listen, if you're scared, don't come." Suddenly Reheema twisted the black wheel of the Intrepid to the right, yanked the car to the curb in front of Popeyes fried chicken, and pressed the brakes. The car lurched to a stop. "Get out."

"What?" Vicki asked, startled. "Go. Leave. This is a decent neighborhood, you'll be fine. Get yourself some chicken wings and I'll come back for you." "No." Vicki knew she should go, at the same moment she knew she'd stay. "Get out." Vicki sat stiff in her seat. "I don't want to." "Why not? You'll lose your job." "Not if you behave yourself, I won't. I'm in. You need me." Reheema burst into merry laughter, like her old self, and the two almost became friends again. "I'm saving you from yourself, Reheema." "The hell you are!" "Also you'd miss me. You'd have separation anxiety." "No, I wouldn't." Vicki waved a hand. "Go ahead, tough girl. Drive." Reheema laughed again. "You're kiddin'." "Go." Vicki turned to her, grave. "But I'm watching every single move you make. And if I have to shoot you , I will."

" Damn! " Reheema said, and hit the gas. They arrived at James's house faster than most rockets, and the Intrepid pulled up in front of a crumbling brick row house. Reheema cut the ignition, took out the key, and started to leave the car, when Vicki put a hand on her arm to stop her.