Fatal Exposure - By Gail Barrett Page 0,56
they’re after me, depending on who’s involved. Hey, Alice,” he said into the phone. “Parker McCall here. I need you to do me a favor.” He rose and walked to the window, then nudged the curtain aside and peered out. “I need to find out who worked in Homicide fifteen years ago. Could you email me the roster?” He paused, his brow wrinkled as he listened to what she said. “I’m not coming in today. You’d better use my private address. Do you have a pen?”
While he chatted with the secretary, Brynn decided to do her part by searching her stepfather’s background online on the off chance that he had a connection to that gang, an angle she’d never had reason to consider before. She pulled up several bios, then skimmed through information she already knew—about his suburban childhood, the glory of his football years, how he’d worked his way up the ranks of the Baltimore Police Department, earning accolades and respect. He’d constructed an impressive public persona, she had to admit.
Too bad it was based on a lie.
Parker ended his call and returned her phone. “I looked up Hoffman’s bio,” she told him. “There’s nothing in it about belonging to a gang, but he probably wouldn’t publicize it if he did.”
“You never know. Senator Riggs belonged to a gang when he was young. He’s turned it into an asset. It’s one of the reasons he’s big on community outreach. He’s trying to keep kids from dying on the streets.”
She couldn’t argue that. But as badly as she wanted to crucify her stepfather, she couldn’t see him belonging to a gang. Preying on defenseless children was more his style.
“If you don’t need your computer,” he continued, “I’ll access my work account and check out Hoffman’s schedule, see what he was doing the night Erin Walker died. I left my computer in my truck at the café. They’ve probably towed it by now.”
“Go ahead. I’ll look through those photos from the camp again in case we missed anything.” Scooting past Parker, she headed into the bathroom and deposited the ice pack in the sink. Then she took her camera from her backpack and settled on the bed again.
But while she tried to focus on checking the date stamps, her mind kept returning to the disillusionment she’d seen in Parker’s eyes. And like it or not, she realized last night had changed something fundamental between them. No matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t think of him as just a cop anymore. She cared about Parker McCall. He mattered to her now. And despite the potential danger, she couldn’t stay detached from this complex man.
Even more disturbed by that thought, she frowned at the photographs. Several minutes later, she released a sigh. “I can’t find anything new. Hoffman was at the camp on July 14, two days before Erin died. That doesn’t mean he wasn’t there on the sixteenth, just that no one caught him on film.”
Parker nodded, his gaze still on the computer. “According to his schedule, he attended a gang conference at the Baltimore Convention Center on the sixteenth. Later that night he went to a reception in D.C. hosted by Senator Riggs.”
“What time was the reception?”
“It started at eight.”
Her hopes plummeted. “So that rules him out in Erin’s death.” And she’d been so sure...
“Not necessarily. He still could have made it to the camp, depending on when he left the reception.”
“How can we find that out?”
“Pay the senator a visit and ask.”
She blinked. “Don’t tell me you know him?”
“No, but if I tell him I’m investigating Hoffman...”
She stared at him in disbelief, stunned by the risk he was willing to take. Parker wasn’t the type to defy the rules. He had absolute faith in the law. For him to gamble his career, going against everything he believed in...
“He’ll never buy it,” she argued. “He’ll call Hoffman and check.”
“You have a better idea?”
Her heart made a sudden zigzag. She rose and went to the window, wondering if she had enough nerve. But she’d sucked Parker into this mess, and she owed him at least that much.
Inhaling sharply, she turned around. “I do, actually. I’ll call the senator. I’ll tell him I’m B. K. Elliot, and that I want to meet with him this afternoon about a partnership helping runaway teens. He won’t turn me down. The publicity will boost his career.”
A frown etched Parker’s brow. “How will that help us? We need information about Hoffman’s schedule.”
“It’ll get us through the