address Regina Garrett had given him. “He’s not usually so rude.”
“Somehow I doubt that,” she said mildly from the passenger seat.
His mouth twitched in acknowledgment. “I’m not saying he’s not rude. He’s just not usually that rude.”
“I understand. He’s not the first cop who didn’t like me, and I doubt he’ll be the last.”
“That doesn’t bother you?”
“Like most people, I’m not crazy about the idea that anyone dislikes me. But then, I wouldn’t be very good at my job if the entire Chicago PD were fans.”
“Well, cops tend to not be too crazy about people who help criminals get off,” he said before he could think better of it. As soon as the words were out, he braced himself for an angry comeback.
Instead she simply said, “Everybody deserves a defense, Detective. It’s how our justice system works.”
He didn’t bother to disagree. He was well aware how the justice system worked, or at least how it was supposed to. He also knew that some people deserved nothing but to be punished. That was justice. He almost asked her how many who deserved to be punished hadn’t been because of her, how many crimes they’d gone on to commit, how many people they’d hurt because she’d given them the opportunity. But that would make him no better than Polinsky, and he was in no mood to pick a fight.
They passed the rest of the trip in silence, his discomfort growing by the minute. He did his best not to look at her. It didn’t help. He could still see her out of the corner of his eye, still feel her presence with almost painful awareness. The faint scent of her perfume, something light and distinctly feminine, seemed to fill the close confines of the car, and every bit of his senses.
He felt a spurt of relief when they finally reached the street she’d named. It was nearly eleven o’clock. Most of the houses on this quiet residential block were aglow with holiday lights, though their darkened windows indicated that almost all of the residents were settled in for the night. He slowed as the house numbers began to reach the one he sought.
“I think that’s it,” she said a second after he spotted the house. It was a small one-story structure with a single car parked out front. Unlike those around it, this house wasn’t decorated with any lights. There also didn’t appear to be any on inside, at least none that were visible from the front.
“Was it just Decker and the sister who lived here?”
“I believe so. From what I remember, they inherited the house from their father, who died a few years ago. Their mother died when they were children.”
Filing the information away for future reference, he parked along the curb in front of the house and climbed out. He might have opened her door for her, but by the time he rounded the vehicle she was already out of the car. She started for the house as soon as he joined her, moving so automatically he almost wondered if she’d waited for him or intended to go on her own and leave him to follow.
Before he could bring up how they would handle this, she strode right up to the front door and knocked. For more than a minute, there was no answer.
“She may already be in bed,” Marcus observed.
“Maybe,” Regina agreed. “Especially if she managed to get the baby to sleep. She’d probably be trying to get as much rest as she could. I hate to wake her.” She sighed. “I hate to tell her any of this.”
To his surprise, there was genuine regret in her voice. She meant it. Frankly, he’d taken her insistence on being here as evidence of the control-freak tendencies he’d initially assumed she’d have, her claims of concern nothing more than a ploy to have her way. She was a lawyer; of course she’d be good at making an argument. Her obvious sincerity caught him off-guard, nearly made him look at her again until he managed to catch himself.
She was about to knock again when the curtains in the window shifted slightly, then the sound of locks being withdrawn met their ears. The door finally, slowly eased open. A nervous-looking face, a female version of Jeremy Decker’s, peered at them over a still-fastened chain. “Yes?”
“Hi, Lauren. Do you remember me?” Regina asked.
After a moment, Lauren nodded shakily. “You’re Jeremy’s lawyer.”
“That’s right. This is Detective Waters with the Chicago Police Department. Can we come in? We need to talk to you about something.”
“Jeremy’s not here.”
“I know. We need to talk to you.”
Lauren’s expression said she wanted to say no. Finally, as though realizing how futile it would be to turn away the police, she grimaced. “I just got the baby to sleep. You’ll have to be quiet.”
“Of course.”
The door closed long enough for her to unfasten the chain before opening it fully. She was dressed in thread-bare sweats, her hair wet as though she’d just stepped out of the shower. They hadn’t woken her, apparently catching her on her way to bed instead. As Regina had said, she was young, looking to be barely in her early twenties. Even younger than her brother. She was pretty, but tired-looking, probably to be expected for a woman with a baby. She waved them in, quickly closing and re-locking the door behind them, then turned to face them, folding her arms almost protectively over her chest.
“Is there somewhere we can sit down?” Regina asked when it looked as if Lauren Decker wasn’t going to offer.
Lauren nodded tightly and stepped past them to lead the way into a tiny living room off the entryway. She motioned vaguely at the couch, as much as an invitation as it seemed like they were going to get, falling into a chair herself.
Regina slid onto the edge of the couch closest to Lauren. Marcus remained standing, not seeing any way he could fit on it with her, not really wanting to get that close.
“Lauren, I’m afraid I have some sad news,” Regina said slowly, the kindness in her voice again catching him by surprise. “Jeremy is dead. I found him in his car outside my office tonight. He was murdered.”
He watched Lauren’s reaction to the news. She blinked several times, a lack of comprehension in her expression. It was a face he’d seen more than once in moments like this. “What are you talking about?” she said, her voice barely more than a whisper.
“It appears someone killed him while he was sitting in his car.”
Eyes wide, Lauren began to shake her head. “Who?”
“That’s what we were hoping to ask you,” Marcus said gently, ignoring the look Regina shot him. “Do you have any idea why anyone would want to hurt your brother?”
She blinked up at him, her gaze slowly sliding from his to Regina’s, then away entirely as she lowered her head. And he knew before she said a word that she was going to lie.
“No.”
Before he could call her on it, Regina leaned forward. “Lauren, I know you must want whoever hurt Jeremy to be held responsible. If there’s anything you can tell us, anything at all, it would be helpful.”
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