Powers of Arrest - страница 27
Cheryl Beth asked if Lauren had notified the police.
“No,” April said. “She was forever blaming herself for things. She was afraid she’s been too provocative and flirty in the bar. Then she thought maybe she was imagining that he was really following her. But she was afraid. I can tell you that. I was about to come down there and make her go to the campus police when this happened.”
“Did you tell all this to Detective Brooks?”
“I don’t know who that is,” April said. “My parents got a call from the university and had to go down and…” A sniffle broke her control, “…identify Lauren’s body. They didn’t know about this. Lauren wouldn’t tell them. They’re very protective and she wanted to be independent. It makes me want to throw up.”
When the phone rang a little after seven, Cheryl Beth thought it might be April calling her back. She answered on the first ring and could hear the anxiety in her own voice.
No one spoke. She could hear a background of voices and telephones ringing, then a hand muffling the receiver. The peculiar dread of a mysterious call sanded her nerve endings.
Finally: “Cheryl Beth?” A man’s voice. A nice baritone, vaguely familiar.
“Yes. Who’s this?”
“I’m not sure you remember me. My name is Will Borders. I was a patient at Cincinnati General when you were the pain nurse…”
She felt a catch in her throat and hesitated. Then, “Of course I remember you, Will. Tell me how you’re doing?”
“I’m doing well. I’m back at work, on the force.”
“I’ve seen your name in the paper and hoped you were all right.” She could hear more voices and phones in the background. “Where are you?”
“I’m in homicide right now. Detective Dodds sends his best.”
A deeper voice called, “Hello, Cheryl Beth!” and laughed.
“Tell him ‘hi’ back.”
She heard a rustling and Dodds came on. “Are you still as beautiful as the last time I saw you?”
“Hello, Detective Dodds.” She laughed. “The last time you saw me I was beaten up and bloody.”
“You were the most beautiful beaten up and bloody I’ve ever seen. Anyway, I’ll give you back to Mister President.”
“Sorry,” Will said. “He gets very enthusiastic.”
“I can see that. Why does he call you Mister President?”
“Long story.” He paused. “Anyway, I’m walking. I use a cane. But I’m walking.”
“That is so great. I prayed for that, Will.” She blurted that last part out suddenly and then worried if she had gone too far.
After a long pause, Will said, “I hope I’m not calling at a bad time. I’ve wanted to call and check in. There’s no excuse for not doing it sooner.”
She smiled and said nothing.
He said, “I wonder if you’d have a drink with me sometime? It’s okay if you say no. I understand. I know this out of left field…”
“Will,” she interrupted, “I’d love to.”
Chapter Ten
“God damn you.”
Will glared at Dodds as the entire homicide unit erupted in applause and laughter.
“I didn’t even know who you were dialing at first.”
“You may call me J.C. the matchmaker,” Dodds said, a smug grin on his face. “You were too much of a chickenshit, so I had to do it for you.”
“Asshole. And stop that ‘Mister President’ shit. Now where do I take her?”
“Palm Court,” came one suggestion behind his back.
“Too formal,” Will said. “What will that make her think?”
“I dunno,” Dodds said. “Like you have class? How about the Precinct? Historic old police station, cop motif, all that.”
“Across the river,” Lieutenant Fassbinder said. “Nice view of the city.”
It felt good to be back in homicide again, in the fifth-floor offices leased from the county in the art deco tower at 800 Broadway that once housed the Cincinnati Times-Star newspaper. The old energy, the familiar faces, now everyone fueled with the adrenaline to catch whoever killed Kristen Gruber. Her name was written in red capital letters on the big white board that tracked the progress of the year’s homicide cases: unsolved. Immediately above it, also in red, was Jeremy Snowden, the cellist. That call early that morning seemed like a lifetime ago. In fact, the board had half a dozen names in red. All unsolved cases. The unit was already stretched.