Page 75 of Murder Notes
Alexandra and Eddie depart, and I refocus on my brother. “Quickly, while we’re alone. My team in LA has had a few developments that lend some doubt to the cases all connecting.”
“And I’m sure you told them you think otherwise.”
“I shared my concerns. If I’m right, though, you’re wrong and so are they, and that doesn’t please the powers that be that want these cases closed.”
“I understand that dilemma.”
“Dad?”
“Yeah. This kind of trouble is bad for his political aspirations.”
“How do you feel about him running for New York governor?”
“It’s flipping killing me. Everything is about that to him, but you know. Politics is all he has since Mom died. I’m not sure how we fault him for finding something to live for.”
“You’re right, but I’m concerned about his involvement with Pocher.”
“Pocher is a rich asshole. He’s not a gangster.”
“There are opinions otherwise,” I point out.
“I’ve been around the guy. He believes in Dad and wants the best for our country. He’s not a bad person. In fact, there’s a big charity event tonight. Come. He’ll be there and maybe he’ll win you over.”
I’m shocked at the invite I was certain wasn’t intended, suddenly questioning my worries about Andrew and even my father. Which is a good thing.
“I’ll e-mail you a ticket, though I’m going to have my hands full with security.”
“You do have your hands full,” I say, not feeling overly motivated to mention Lucas or anything that distracts from the case right now. “Let me lend you FBI resources to get Woods.”
“FBI resources get attention we don’t need. The NYPD is helping.”
“The longer he’s gone, the less chance you have of finding Woods.”
“We’ll find him. And for the record, after that chat we had on the phone about Woods not fitting the profile, I’m going to enjoy out-profiling the profiler.”
“You will never out-profile the profiler,” I assure him.
“Uh-huh. Game on, sis. I’m right on this. And we’re going to get Woods and prove it.”
I know him and he really believes what he’s saying, and, despite how misplaced that belief, his conviction is music to my ears. I decide that he might have been fed Woods as a suspect, but I can stop worrying that he was a part of setting him up. Which means if we get Woods, he’ll see the truth and support a proper outcome of this case.
His phone beeps, and he pulls it from his pocket and glances at it and then me. “I need to get back to the station.” He sticks his phone in his pocket and instead of getting up, focuses on me. “You know. I haven’t been to Mom’s grave in a while. How about we have breakfast tomorrow and go by there?”
I inhale and straighten. “You know how I feel about that.”
“I get it. She’s in the ocean. It’s a memorial, Lilah. I need to do this. Go with me.”
“Why does going to an empty shell with a tombstone help you cope with losing her?”
“Why does shutting me out and never visiting her or me help you cope? You’re going.” He stands. “Breakfast at our favorite waffle stop at seven.”
“I don’t do seven on Sundays.”
“Tomorrow you do.”
He leaves and I sigh. The grave. I should have known that was coming with him. Resigned to his inevitable stubbornness, I slip on my coat and gather my bags to follow him outside, eager to review the Emerson case file and watch Take Me to Church for clues about that tattoo. I exit the restaurant and walk to the side of the building, weaving through cars to get to mine, when I notice Samantha and Alexandra standing just at the corner leading to the back of the building, and they don’t look happy. In fact, they look like they’re about to have a girl fight.
I step behind a vehicle, watching them, wishing I could hear them, and just when I think blows might come down, Eddie shows up and parts them. In a blink of an eye, they are walking to their cars and climbing inside. It’s all rather anticlimactic. I turn away and walk to my car, opening my door and setting my things inside when I look down and realize my back tire is flat. I’d curse out a reaction, but there’s a note attached. I walk to the tire and squat beside it, snatching the note and opening it to read:
