Tess Gerritsen - Keeper of the Bride / Whistleblower - Keeper of the Bride / Whistleblower

Horrified by his implication, she gave a violent shake of her head. “You don’t really think that—that I had something to do with this?”

“Did you?”

Sam stepped between them. “That’s enough, Yeats.”

“What are you, Navarro? Her lawyer?”

“She doesn’t have to answer these questions.”

“Yes, she does. Maybe not tonight. But she does have to answer questions.”

Sam took Nina’s arm and propelled her toward the exit.

“Watch it, Navarro!” Yeats yelled as they left the room. “You’re on thin ice!”

Though Sam didn’t answer, Nina could sense his fury just by the way he gripped her arm all the way to the parking lot.

When they were back in his car, she said, quietly, “Thank you, Sam.”

“For what?”

“For getting me away from that awful man.”

“Eventually, you will have to talk to him. Yeats may be a pain in the butt, but he has a job to do.”

And so do you, she thought with a twinge of sadness. She turned to look out the window. He was the cop again, always the cop, trying to solve the puzzle. She was merely one of the pieces.

“You’re going to have to talk to him tomorrow,” said Sam. “Just a warning—he can be a tough interrogator.”

“There’s nothing I have to tell him. I was at my father’s house. You know that. And Daniella will confirm it.”

“No one can knock your alibi. But murder doesn’t have to be done in person. Killers can be hired.”

She turned to him with a look of disbelief. “You don’t think I’d—”

“I’m just saying that’s the logic Yeats will use. When someone gets murdered, the number one suspect is always the spouse or lover. You and Bledsoe just broke up. And it happened in the most public and painful way possible. It doesn’t take a giant leap of logic to come up with murderous intent on your part.”

“I’m not a murderer. You know I’m not!”

He didn’t answer. He just went on driving as though he had not registered a word.

“Navarro, did you hear me? I’m not a murderer!”

“I heard you.”

“Then why aren’t you saying anything?”

“Because I think something else just came up.”

Only then did she notice that he was frowning at the rearview mirror. He picked up his car phone and dialed. “Gillis?” he said. “Do me a favor. Find out if Yeats has a tail on Nina Cormier. Yeah, right now. I’m in the car. Call me back.” He hung up.

Nina turned and looked out the rear window, at a pair of headlights behind them. “Is someone following us?”

“I’m not sure. I do know that car pulled out behind ours when we left the hospital. And it’s been there ever since.”

“Your buddy in Homicide must really think I’m dangerous if he’s having me followed.”

“He’s just keeping tabs on his suspect.”

Me, she thought, and sank back against the seat, grateful that the darkness hid her face. Am I your suspect as well?

He drove calmly, making no sudden moves to alarm whoever was in the car behind them. In that tense stillness, the ringing of the phone was startling.

He picked up the receiver. “Navarro.” There was a pause, then he said, “You’re sure?” Again he glanced in the mirror. “I’m at Congress and Braeburn, heading west. There’s a dark truck—looks like a Jeep Cherokee—right behind me. I’ll swing around, make a pass by Houlton. If you can be ready and waiting, we’ll sandwich this guy. Don’t scare him off. For now, just move in close enough to get a good look. Okay, I’m making my turn now. I’ll be there in five minutes.” He hung up and shot Nina a tense glance. “You pick up what’s happening?”

“What is happening?”

“That’s not a cop behind us.”

She looked back at the headlights. Not a cop. “Then who is it?”

“We’re going to find out. Now listen good. In a minute I’ll want you down near the floor. Not yet—I don’t want to make him suspicious. But when Gillis pulls in behind him, things could get exciting. Are you ready for this?”

“I don’t think I have much of a choice…”

He made his turn. Not too fast—a casual change of direction to make it seem as if he’d just decided on a different route.

The other car made the turn as well.

Sam turned again, back onto Congress Street. They were headed east now, going back the way they’d come. The pair of headlights was still behind them. At 10:30 on a Sunday, traffic was light and it was easy to spot their pursuer.

“There’s Gillis,” Sam stated. “Right on schedule.” He nodded at the blue Toyota idling near the curb. They drove past it.

A moment later, the Toyota pulled into traffic, right behind the Jeep.

“Perp sandwich,” said Sam with a note of triumph. They were coming on a traffic light, just turning yellow. Purposely he slowed down, to keep the other two cars on his tail.

Without warning, the Cherokee suddenly screeched around them and sped straight through the intersection just as the light turned red.

Sam uttered an oath and hit the accelerator. They, too, lurched through the intersection just as a pickup truck barreled in from a side street. Sam swerved around it and took off after the sedan.

A block ahead, the Cherokee screeched around a corner.

“This guy’s smart,” muttered Sam. “He knew we were moving in on him.”

“Watch out!” cried Nina as a car pulled out of a parking space, right in front of them.

Sam leaned on his horn and shot past.

This is crazy, she thought. I’m riding with a maniac cop at the wheel.

They spun around the corner into an alley. Nina, clutching the dashboard, caught a dizzying view of trash cans and Dumpsters as they raced through.

At the other end of the alley, Sam screeched to a halt.

There was no sign of the Cherokee. In either direction.

Gillis’s Toyota squealed to a stop just behind them. “Which way?” they heard Gillis call.

“I don’t know!” Sam yelled back. “I’ll head east.”

He turned right. Nina glanced back and saw Gillis turn left, in the other direction. A two-pronged search. Surely one of them would spot the quarry.

Four blocks later, there was still no sign of the Cherokee. Sam reached for the car phone and dialed Gillis.

“No luck here,” he said. “How about you?” At the answer, he gave a grunt of disappointment. “Okay. At least you got the license number. I’ll check back with you later.” He hung up.

“So he did catch the number?” Nina asked.

“Massachusetts plate. APB’s going out now. With any luck, they’ll pick him up.” He glanced at Nina. “I’m not so sure you should go back to your father’s house.”

Their gazes locked. What she saw, in his eyes, confirmed her fears.

“You think he was following me,” she said softly.

“What I want to know is, why? There’s something weird going on here, something that involves both you and Robert. You must have some idea what it is.”

She shook her head. “It’s a mistake,” she whispered. “It must be.”

“Someone’s gone to a lot of trouble to ensure your deaths. I don’t think he—or she—would mistake the target.”

“She? Do you really think…”

“As I said before, murder needn’t be done in person. It can be bought and paid for. And that could be what we’re dealing with. I’m more and more certain of it. A professional.”

Nina was shaking now, unable to answer him. Unable to argue. The man next to her was talking so matter-of-factly. His life didn’t hang in the balance.

“I know it’s hard to accept any of this yet,” he added. “But in your case, denial could be fatal. So let me lay it out for you. The brutal facts. Robert’s already dead. And you could be next.”