Page 25 of Cast Stones
She cuts me off with a heavy sigh and neatens her already super-neat ponytail. “I’m not looking for a lead on the defense, Miss Bailey.” I watch her drop her arms and suck her stomach in enough times to convince me it’s a nerves thing. “I’m also not in the habit of getting involved in cases that aren’t my own, but that DA asshole is refusing to take this evidence seriously.”
“What evidence?” I say, my interest piqued.
She flicks her eyes back to me in the mirror. “Cain Moseley wasn’t the only line of inquiry my department was pursuing. He was one of a handful of suspects, and he was pretty low down on that list. I wasn’t on the case myself, but you need to take my word on this.”
Holy shit.“Are you telling me the lead detectives lied on the stand?”
“Not so much lied as asked to help bury the truth,” she says carefully. “Those files you requested from my department last month? The DA made sure they shuffled all the good stuff to the bottom of the pack. They know you’re working alone, Miss Bailey. They also know that there isn’t a hope in hell of Mr. Anderson doing due diligence on the same files.” The frown deepens. “That lazy son of a bitch should have been disbarred years ago. In fact, with the exception of yourself, your whole team is a joke.”
There’s nothing funny about them, detective. As testified by the agony I’m still feeling between my legs.
Every movement is a razor blade.
Every waking minute is a lesson in regret.
“Why are you sharing this, detective?”
“Because it’s the right thing to do.” She smiles at me again, and this time it’s not so disingenuous. “Also, and you’ll forgive me for saying this, you look like you need all the help you can get.”
This is the kind of breakthrough I’ve been praying for. I can use it to crack Luca’s case. So why do I feel like she just shoved a rag of fear and panic down my throat?
“Who else was your department investigating?” I rasp, clutching at the sink. If I look up, I know I’m going to see blood droplets gathering in the ceiling joints.
If Luca and Cain didn’t kill the ten Disciples, who did?
“Enzo Vincent didn’t murder anyone, counselor. He’s talking a load of shit. He’s a copycat-in-waiting.”
“Awhat?”
“I’m guessing Vincent figured out who the killer was before us. He stalked him for a while, watched him, studied him, hence the fingerprints and tire tracks—”
“Why would he do that?”
“Because he admires the killer’s work,” she says, shrugging. “Maybe he admires their methods and has a sick fascination to fast-track himself to a lead headline scenario. Vincent fits the profile, Miss Bailey. He’s a loner. Lives out of his pick-up truck mostly… No wife. No family. Smart—”
“How can you be sure about this?”
“Instinct,” she says simply.
“Instinct?”
“And the fact he snoozed on Cyrus Moseley’s murder. Forensics put the time of death around three a.m. We know for a fact,as does the DA, that he was in an all-night bar a couple of miles away at two fifty-seven a.m. Not even Superman on eight tabs of speed could travel that distance in three minutes.”
“What else?” I demand, needing more, needing every scrap of evidence as I watch the detective dip her hands under the running faucet again.
She reaches over to the towel dispenser and pulls out exactly three sheets. Wiping herself dry, she tosses the used sheets in the trash. “Conclusively?”
“Conclusively,” I whisper as the clean, white bathroom spins faster.
“We found a new body approximately four hours ago underneath the Seventeenth Street Causeway Bridge.”
I knew it.
“He was a former member of the same cult, same markings on the victim’s chest.” She checks her reflection again. “Vincent’s gonna be pissed he missed this one, Miss Bailey. Footage has him locked up in the Broward County Hole for throat-punching a fellow inmate when it happened.”
Chapter Ten
On day five,Cain and Luca were acquitted. The case was closed, and heads started to roll, just not the ones Judge Harris had in mind.
