Heartbreak Bay (Stillhouse Lake #5) - Rachel Caine Page 0,94
fight in my damn hospital room, so I say, “You do what you got to do, Detective. I expect we’ll hash this out somewhere else.”
“Oh, we will,” Heidt says grimly. “Count on that.”
He turns to leave and finds Prester standing in the doorway, blocking his exit. It looks accidental, but I know the old man well enough to know it isn’t. Prester looks Heidt up and down and says, “Son, you don’t know shit about who her boss is, because her boss is me, and you can complain all you want. Now, I already told her that we’re going to step back, but your ability to threaten anybody in this room is full zero. Clear?”
It’s really, really rare for Prester to be that blunt, and for a second I think it’s going to backfire . . . but then Heidt turns and looks at me, shakes his head, and says, “Locals,” like it’s a plague on his house.
Prester moves into the room. Heidt leaves, and the door silently closes behind him. “Staties,” my partner says sourly. “Can’t work with ’em, can’t kill ’em. Kez, he’s right. We are done with this case. I’m going to take my tired self home and get some sleep. You rest. That is an order.”
He leaves, too, and Javier takes my hand again. Squeezes. “You all right?”
“Sure,” I say, and yawn. “I got all the good drugs. Hey, who sent the flowers? You?”
“I would have, but I didn’t want to stop to do it,” he says. “Now I feel shitty because you’ve got a better boyfriend.”
“I’d rather have you here than flowers any day.”
Javi goes over to retrieve the card from the bouquet and hands it to me unopened. My name is label-printed on it: Det. Kezia Claremont. I flip open the envelope and pull out the small, flat card inside.
It’s a graphic of a sad teddy bear, and the printed message says, Choose to let this go.
It takes a few seconds—I blame the drugs—before what I’m holding comes into real focus, and then I feel a red streak of alarm sizzle through me, head to toe. I drop the card to the sheet and stare it like I expect it to grow fangs.
“What?” Javi asks. “Who’s it from?”
I look up at him without saying anything. He reaches over to pick up the card, and then I find words. “No, don’t touch it,” I say. “See if you can catch Prester before he leaves. Use my phone.” I point. My finger’s shaking a little from the rush of adrenaline.
Javier grabs my phone and calls Prester. He doesn’t take his eyes off me while he tells Prester to get back up here, now. Once the call’s done, he puts the phone down and says, “Are you going to tell me?”
I shake my head. “When Prester gets here.”
It takes about three long minutes before my partner slams open the door. He sweeps the whole room with a look, and I see the officer who’s been stationed outside the room has his gun drawn, ready to back Prester up. “It’s okay,” I say. “The flowers are evidence.” I point to the card and envelope, both lying on my lap. “I didn’t want to touch it more than I had to.”
Prester takes his hand off the butt of his gun and turns to nod to the KPD officer, who looks sweaty and relieved. Prester lets the door shut and comes in, putting on blue gloves while he’s walking with the unconscious precision of somebody who’s done it too much. He picks up the envelope first, examines it, then turns his attention to the card. Without a word, he opens up a small paper bag produced from his coat pocket and slides both pieces into it, and fills in the evidence tag already attached to the bag with quick pen strokes. “If you needed another reason to step back, here it is,” he says. “Getting flowers from somebody that ran you off the road is a pretty damn clear warning light.”
“Wait,” Javier says. “These flowers are from the guy who tried to kill you? Can’t you trace him with that?”
“Good chance that they were internet-ordered, probably with a pay-as-you-go cash card; this guy isn’t dumb enough to give his own name and address. But I’ll run it down regardless.”
My heartbeat picks up a painfully fast rhythm. “Prester, please be careful—”
“Kez. Don’t teach your granddad how to fish. This son of a bitch came for you. I’ll run it down, and