Page 36 of Wasted
He stepped to her side and looked at it, too, prepared to make a crack about the flyer some salesman had probably left.
But his gaze collided with cut-out letters pasted to the paper like something out of a movie.
Leave well enough alone or you’ll get hurt.
Chapter
Twelve
How did he do it? Victoria walked beside Cillian up the hallway at the police station, following an officer to the lieutenant’s office.
Cillian still had the inexplicable ability to talk her into things, apparently, and to persuade her to change her mind. Something no one could ever do, according to her siblings.
The moment Cillian had seen the threatening note left on her windshield, he’d announced they were going to the police at once. Never mind that she had a patient appointment. Or that the detective clearly didn’t want to see her again, especially regarding anything to do with Thomas.
Cillian had shot down those objections easily enough by reminding her that Thomas, her friend, had been murdered, and no one was going to be punished for that if Detective McCully was left to his own hunches. Cillian had also insisted that the threatening note should be reported, regardless, since she could be in danger.
Victoria would just as soon forget that last part of Cillian’s argument. And the way his eyes had sparked with something ferocious ever since he’d read the note, as if the thought of her being in danger made him angry and protective.
Did he feel that strongly about her? Did he care for her?
What would she do if he did? She couldn’t allow?—
No. She wouldn’t go there. Not right now. She redirected her thoughts as she and Cillian turned into another hallway, officers in uniforms and suits passing in the other direction.
She hoped Cillian was right about one thing—that going over Detective McCully’s head to his lieutenant would result in Thomas’s needless death being given the attention it deserved. That Thomas deserved.
But nerves fluttered in her stomach as they entered the office where a man in his fifties stood behind a desk with a stern expression.
“Lieutenant Willis, thanks for seeing us.” Cillian’s strong voice gave her a modicum of reassurance. Perhaps his persuasive powers would work on the lieutenant as well as they did on her.
The lieutenant jerked a nod. “Have a seat.” His tone was polite, but not friendly.
Victoria couldn’t blame the man. Cillian had only secured this unplanned meeting by…actually, she wasn’t quite sure how he’d achieved it. He had walked up to the officer at the front desk while Victoria hung back, still debating inwardly whether or not they should go through with Cillian’s plan to circumvent McCully. It would only make the detective angrier with her, which would completely destroy any hope that she could still convince him to investigate Thomas’s death. She knew how to deal with people like the detective and keep the peace, if Cillian would only be patient.
But while she’d been deliberating, Cillian had apparently said something to the desk officer that unlocked an immediate meeting with Lieutenant Willis. Victoria didn’t particularly want to know what he’d said or done to obtain such a quick but inhospitable meeting.
The lieutenant spoke again as soon as he sat behind his desk and Cillian and Victoria took the uncomfortable chairs facing him. “I understand you have a serious complaint about one of our staff, Detective McCully.”
Oh. That was what Cillian had said.
Victoria shot him a dismayed glance, but he watched Lieutenant Willis, giving him a confident smile.
“It’s only serious if he continues to ignore the evidence in a murder case. But I’m guessing you can steer him in the right direction.”
The lieutenant tented his fingers above the desk. “You’re talking about the death of Thomas Briscoe.”
Cillian gave a controlled nod. “A clear case of murder, but McCully is determined to ignore all the evidence and proclaim it’s an accidental death. I can’t help but wonder why he would do that. Do you have any ideas?”
Heat crawled toward Victoria’s cheeks as she fought the urge to shrink down into her seat in an effort to disappear. Was Cillian actually implying to the lieutenant’s face that his detective wasn’t honest? That he had improper or sinister motives in Thomas’s death?
The lieutenant’s mouth worked for a bit as his eyes narrowed. “I can assure you McCully is an experienced and skilled investigator. He knows how to read the evidence and not make assumptions.”
“Then why is he sweeping this death under the rug as an accident? Maybe his case load is getting out of control?” Cillian lifted his hand off the skinny metal armrest of the chair that was much too tiny for his large frame. “You see what reporters or the public could make of this if it gets out, right? And from what I hear, Thomas Briscoe’s death is a pretty big deal with the press.”
Her insides stiffened at the implied threat. Cillian had always been forceful and resented authority. But this way of rebelling with a smile and dropping threats he seemed ready to fulfill was new.
She braced for the lieutenant to expel them from his office. And the station. Hopefully, he wouldn’t arrest them for making threats.
