Sun, the whole grisly affair had been knocked from the pages by a bribery scandal involving high-ranking city officials. There’d been no mention of Rick’s murder, no mention of the police corruption Thea had suspected for months.
She’d been left to imagine what the headlines must have been: VINDICTIVE EX-WIFE MURDERS DECORATED POLICE OFFICER. COP KILLER FLEES BALTIMORE WITH FOUR-YEAR-OLD DAUGHTER. STATEWIDE MANHUNT FOR COLD-BLOODED MURDERER.
Thea sometimes still had a hard time believing how much her life had changed. She’d been a business major in college and had gone to work at her father’s private-investigation firm right after graduation. She hadn’t been interested in field work, but she had been interested in numbers. She’d run the office efficiently, cutting costs and increasing profits with her innovative ideas. Now she worked as a waitress in a diner. She’d once been a respected member of the chamber of commerce. Now she was a wanted criminal.
Deep in thought, she started violently when the doorbell sounded. Her heart skidded against her chest as her head swiveled toward the door. Who in the world would be coming to see her at this hour on a Sunday morning?
Telling herself it was probably Mrs. Lewellyn wanting to chat for a few minutes, Thea hurried to the door. But when she glanced through the peephole, she gasped in dismay.
Detective Gallagher stood in the hallway, his blue eyes so piercing she could have sworn he had the ability to look directly through the door, straight at her.
Frantically she glanced around. Was there anything incriminating in the apartment? Should she hide? Pretend she wasn’t home? Grab Nikki and make a run for it?
Smoothing her hands down the sides of her chenille robe, Thea tried to get her nerves under control. There was no reason to panic. Detective Gallagher was conducting a police investigation that she had inadvertently become a part of. All she had to do was convince him that she had seen nothing last night. She had no connection to the dead woman.
But suddenly the woman’s picture flashed on the TV screen, and for a moment, the smiling attractive face triggered something in Thea. Not recognition exactly, but a feeling that at sometime, somewhere, she and the dead woman’s paths had crossed.
The doorbell sounded again, and casting a glance toward Nikki’s bedroom, Thea patted down her tangled dark hair and pulled open the door.
Detective John Gallagher was even taller than she remembered, and more formal looking than she would have expected for a Sunday morning, unless of course, he was on his way to church. But somehow Thea doubted that. He had the appearance of a man who lived and breathed his investigations. Police work would be his religion. She knew the type all too well.
He was dressed in a dark gray suit, a starched white shirt and a silk tie that were obviously expensive—and made Thea immediately suspicious. She knew what cops made, what they had to do to afford clothing like his. A shudder of warning rippled through her.
“Good morning.” His tone was cordial, but he didn’t smile. His expression remained impersonal, his eyes very blue and very cold.
In spite of his grim demeanor, he was a strikingly handsome man, Thea realized. The kind of man who almost always spelled trouble.
He gazed past her shoulder into the apartment. “May I come in? I have a few questions I need to ask you.”
Dear God, what kind of questions? What in the world was he doing here? Thea frowned. “But I told you last night—I didn’t see anything. I wasn’t even home.”
One dark brow lifted slightly. “But your little girl was, right?”
His words were like a dagger through Thea’s chest. Her heart seemed to stop for a long painful moment, and she could almost feel the color draining from her face. “How did you—”
“May I come in? This won’t take long.”
He didn’t wait for her acquiescence this time, but strode by her into the apartment, turning to face her when she remained motionless at the open doorway. Left with no option, Thea closed the door and followed him.
“Sorry to interrupt your coffee.” He nodded toward the steaming mug on the cocktail table. “Smells good.”
Thea merely looked at him. She had no intention of offering him coffee or anything else. This wasn’t a social call, and the sooner she got rid of him, the better.
How in God’s name had he known about Nikki? The Mancusos had far-reaching contacts, but still…
Thea laced her fingers together, trying to stop the trembling. She couldn’t let him see how nervous she was. Couldn’t give herself away. For Nikki’s sake, she had to perform as she had never performed before.
“How did you know about my daughter?” She got to finish the question this time, amazed that her tone came out just right—part curiosity, part irritation at having her peaceful morning interrupted.
“We obtained a list of all the tenants in the building with children. Little girls, to be exact.”
“But why?” For the first time, Thea noticed the brown paper bag he carried in one hand. Fear crept up her backbone. She lifted her gaze to meet his. “Detective Gallagher, what’s this about?”
In answer, he turned toward the television. “I see you’ve been watching the news this morning. You probably already know that the woman who died here last night was Gail Waters. She was a reporter for a small newspaper called the Press.”
“A reporter?” What had a reporter been doing in this building? Who had she come to see? Had she somehow found out about her and Nikki?
“The paper is local, but some of her investigative pieces also ran on a cable news channel.”
Gail Waters had been on television? Was that why she’d looked familiar? Thea desperately wanted to believe that was the case. There was no reason to assume a reporter’s presence in this building had anything to do with her and Nikki. And yet…
Detective Gallagher was here in her apartment, asking questions about her daughter. Obviously he thought there was a connection.
Thea lifted her chin. “As I told you last night, I don’t recall having seen her before. I don’t understand why you’re here, Detective Gallagher.”
His gaze, intent and probing, fell on her once more. “As you can imagine, there’re still a lot of unanswered questions concerning her death.”
“But I thought her death was a suicide. The officer I spoke with last night said a note had been found on the body.”
“And as I said last night, suicide’s a possibility, but we’re not ruling out homicide. Not yet, at least.”
“Homicide? You think someone murdered her?” Thea felt momentarily faint. “Who would want to kill her?” she asked weakly.
He gave her a curious look. “Reporters are a lot like cops. People sometimes don’t like the questions we ask.”
Thea didn’t say anything to that, but she remembered the list of people Rick had claimed wanted him dead. And yet the last person he’d suspected was the one who finally did him in. Thea’s stomach churned in warning. “Whether it was suicide or murder, I don’t see
