Page 39 of The Drowned Woman
“Is it true?” Jack asked. “Your fiancée was murdered?” He sank back onto the chair arm and wrapped an arm around Risa’s shoulders, pulling her close to him.
Luka’s face remained blank. “My fiancée killed herself. Seventeen years ago today. Facts anyone could easily discover after two minutes with Google.”
“Maybe it wasn’t suicide?” Dominic said. “How can you be sure?”
Before Luka could answer, his phone chimed. The mystery image. Everyone, even Leah, leaned forward in anticipation as he slid his phone out and glanced at it, turning his body to shield the image from everyone else.
After a moment, he hauled in a breath, his shoulders rigid, and slid the phone back into his pocket. “Ms. Saliba, I’d like permission to search your apartment and take your electronics in for our cyber squad to analyze.”
That got both Dom’s and Jack’s attention. Jack spoke first. “Search her home? Why? You can’t suspect Risa had anything—”
Dom’s protests overrode Jack’s in volume. “Absolutely not. Risa’s livelihood depends on those electronics. Maybe, if you sign a waiver and NDA, we’ll let you monitor incoming communications, share any new information the killer sends us—”
“Wait,” Risa said in a quiet but commanding tone. “Detective Jericho, I can’t afford to be disconnected from the world, especially not right now. In fact, if the killer is watching me so closely, won’t he be upset if he can’t communicate with me? Maybe lash out at an innocent victim? Is there a compromise we could reach?”
“Exactly,” Dom put in, as if it was his idea.
“How often is your building manager in your apartment, Ms. Saliba?”
Risa gave a shake of her head as if confused by the abrupt change of topic. “Cliff? He brings me my mail and packages if I can’t get downstairs. But he doesn’t do more than place them on the table for me. Why are you asking?”
“We have evidence that Mr. Vogel may have planted cameras inside your apartment.”
Jack sprang off the chair at that. “He’s spying on her? Where is he now?” Not waiting for an answer, he turned to Risa. “That’s it. You’re out of here. Tonight.”
“We’re searching for Vogel,” Luka told Risa. “But you understand why we want access to your electronics and your apartment.”
Risa pulled the quilt from the back of the chair around her shoulders, huddling under it.
Jack said, “Leave the damn computers; you can live without them. And if this Vogel creep is the killer, then he knows the game is up, he’s on the run, so he’ll be way past thinking about reaching you.”
“She needs her files for the story,” Dom put in. “But we’ll agree to some kind of remote monitoring.” He made it sound as if it was his decision.
“We have a warrant to search the common areas of the Falconer. I’d like to—with your consent—widen our search area to include your apartment.” Luka took a step closer to Risa, blocking Dom. “Perhaps Mr. O’Brien has a point about you leaving. At least until we’ve finished.”
Jack’s head bobbed along with Luka’s words, obviously agreeing. Risa frowned, took a breath, and threw off the quilt she’d been sheltering under. “No.”
“Risa—” Jack started.
“No. This is my home, the only place I feel safe. Now that the police know about Cliff, he won’t come back here, so it’s the one place Iamsafe. I’m staying.” She turned to face Luka. “I would appreciate it if your men could remove any cameras, and I’m happy to allow you to monitor my communications, but what exactly would you be searching for if I gave you further access to my apartment? I have sensitive files—physical and digital—which are confidential, relating to my work. As a journalist, I need to protect those.”
Luka’s lips tightened, but he nodded. “We can limit our search to any hidden surveillance devices along with Trudy’s cell phone and a stun gun that we believe was used during her murder. Would that satisfy your criteria?”
Leah could tell by the expression on his face that he would never leave it to that, was simply buying time until he could persuade a judge to grant him full access to Risa’s home and life. She wondered how difficult that might be given a reporter’s right to protect their sources.
Risa nodded. “I would consent to that limited search, yes.”
“I’m leaving Officer Harper here to monitor the situation.” He gave Harper a curt nod. “Perhaps you could get more complete statements from everyone involved,” he told her, holding his hand for the plastic bag containing Dom’s note. “I’ll get this to forensics, have them put a rush on it.”
He was out the door before anyone could move. Leah hurried after him—whatever had been in that image, it had shaken him. By the look on Harper’s face, she’d seen it as well.
“Luka, wait,” she called to him as she left Risa’s apartment. He took another two steps but then stopped halfway to the elevator lobby. Almost exactly where Trudy had fallen to her death. The crime scene tape was gone, everything sparkling clean as if it had never happened.
She caught up to him. “Was the killer telling the truth about your fiancée?”
He said nothing but his gait slowed as he led her to the elevators. “Her name was Cherise Sumner. We met sophomore year at Bucknell. I asked her to marry me start of our senior year.” He shook his head, his gaze arching skyward as if addressing the heavens more than Leah. “We had so many plans…”
The elevator doors slid open and they both stepped inside. Luka took advantage of the privacy to slump against the far wall while Leah pushed the button for the lobby.
