Sandra Brown - Ricochet

He wasn’t comporting himself like an objective policeman investigating a case. Naturally he would be concerned about the fate of any citizen who had disappeared from a crime scene where another individual had died. But he seemed to be inordinately upset by this crime scene in particular.

She stared at him long enough for him to sense it. When he looked over at her, she mouthed, Are you all right? He mouthed, Just tired, and went back to listening to Worley as he addressed Laird’s exception to his terminology.

“When I said ‘linked up,’ I wasn’t implying anything illicit, Judge. It was just a figure of speech.”

“Elise would not have agreed to meet that man. Especially alone. I’m sure he forced his way into her car.”

“Possibly,” Worley said behind a dry cough. “The car seems to be in perfect running condition. No flat tire, nothing like that. So we don’t know why they pulled over and stopped at the highest part of the bridge, when there are signs against parking posted every few yards. And then there’s the question of why they were headed back into the city, indicating that they’d been somewhere else and were returning. Any idea?”

“None.”

Worley continued, unfazed by the judge’s curtness. “We’ll ask for any possible eyewitnesses to come forward. Anyone who drove across the bridge ahead of that highway patrolman could have seen something. We can’t predict what an appeal to the public like that will yield. Ordinarily, it’s not much, but maybe this time will be an exception.”

Duncan said, “Detective Worley and I agree that at some point they got out of the car and were standing near the wall, but we don’t know why.”

“He was sitting on his business card,” DeeDee said. She explained to Judge Laird and Gerard that they’d found Napoli ’s business card in the driver’s seat when his body was removed. “It’s unlikely he would have been sitting on it unless he’d got out, then got back in.”

Duncan nodded. “We don’t know why they got out, but if we’re reading the signs right, an altercation of some sort took place there along the wall. This theory is borne out by the broken sandal, the fabric ripped from Mrs. Laird’s skirt, and the scuff marks on the pavement.”

“You’re thinking that Napoli was holding her at gunpoint?” Gerard said, asking for clarification.

“Again it’s conjecture, Bill, but that’s a distinct possibility,” Duncan said. “If we’re able to find Napoli ’s weapon and determine that it fired the fatal shot, then it becomes an even greater possibility.”

“How so?”

“Indications are that the pistol was fired from close range directly into his stomach, so more than likely he was facing the individual who shot him. But he was found sitting face forward behind the steering wheel of the car. In order to get a shot like that, the shooter would have had to reach around him from the side. That would be an awkward, to say nothing of inconvenient, angle for anyone either standing in the open door of the car or sitting in the passenger seat. That’s why we think maybe-and I emphasize maybe-that he was shot outside the car.”

“Was there an exit wound?” Gerard asked.

“No. First thing Dothan looked for when he removed the body. That’s why there was so little blood and Napoli caught most of it in his hands.” He paused, then summarized. “Worley and I think it’s possible that while they were wrestling over the pistol, it discharged. Clutching his wound, Napoli managed to get back into the car before he died.”

“But that doesn’t explain where Elise is,” the judge said, looking around wildly. “If…if it was as you described, then she was trying to protect herself, fighting for her life. Right? Maybe he was trying to push her…”

Worley coughed behind his hand again. “Possibly.”

Duncan looked ready to hurl chow.

The judge fell apart. “Oh Jesus! Where is she? What did he do to her?”

Given his emotional state, no one was brave enough to venture a guess. After a moment, Gerard walked over to him and laid a comforting hand on his shoulder. “I urge you to go home, Judge. Wait there for further word.”

“I can’t leave. Something could turn up at any moment.”

“It could, and you will be notified immediately when it does. In the meantime, there’s nothing you can do here. The detective work from this point gets tedious. We’ll go over everything again among ourselves, but basically we’ll be waiting, too. Every law enforcement agency in the state is in on the search. As soon as she’s found-”

“Stop bullshitting me, Bill,” the judge said, angrily throwing off Gerard’s hand. “You think he pushed her from the bridge. You think she’s dead, don’t you?”

Gerard kept his expression impassive. “I go by what I know, not by what I think, and right now, we know precious little. I won’t consider her dead until I see her body. It could be that Mrs. Laird was traumatized by whatever happened on that bridge. She could be wandering around in a daze. Given everything that’s taken place this week, starting with Trotter, that would be understandable. When she’s found, or comes to her senses, she’ll return home. You want to be there if she finds her way back.”

That argument seemed to penetrate when no others had. Laird nodded absently and came slowly to his feet. He let himself be guided toward the door. “I’ll walk you down and have an officer drive you home and stay there with you,” Gerard said.

“Unnecessary.”

“No argument. Napoli had a lot of enemies, so most won’t be sorry he’s dead. But it’s possible he had an ally or two. In the unlikely event that he did, I’m taking no chances and neither is Chief Taylor. You’ll have police protection until we sort all this out.” He hesitated, then said, “It goes without saying that if you hear anything from Mrs. Laird, you’ll contact us without delay.”

The judge stopped and turned to him with a frown of consternation. “I would protect Elise with my own life,” he said. He made eye contact with each of the detectives in turn. “But I would also do the right thing.”

“LIKE HELL HE’D DO THE RIGHT THING,” DEEDEE MUTTERED after the judge and Gerard were out of earshot. “He lied to us about Napoli in order to protect her. He may be lying now. He may know exactly what happened on that bridge.”

“I don’t think so.” Duncan was almost too weary to speak. He was certainly too exhausted to go toe to toe with DeeDee, who was wired and fidgety, partly from guzzling caffeine. She was also juiced over the startling events of the past night. Her eyes were unnaturally bright and restive as she looked over at him. “You don’t think he’s lying?”

“He may be lying about some aspects of this, but I don’t think he knows what happened on that bridge.”

“Who the hell does, except Napoli and the broad.” Worley had gnawed his toothpick into splinters and was patting down his pockets in search of the cigarettes he’d quit smoking two years ago. In times of stress, he reverted to the conditioned motions if not to the habit. “One of them is dead and the other one’s disappeared.”

“Which doesn’t distinguish it from most of our cases,” DeeDee remarked. “Name me one time we’ve found the doer standing over the do-ee with the weapon at his feet and his hands in the air.”

“Yeah, but in this case…”

Worley let the rest of his thought go unspoken as Gerard returned, saying as he came in, “Judge Laird is on his way home. Unhappily, but obediently.”

“What about the media?”

“They swarmed us. TV, newspaper, the whole shebang is outside. We gave them the standard ‘no comment,’ but soon we’ll have to make some kind of statement.”