Fiona Gallagher. I’m with the state’s attorney’s office.”
“Gallagher?” He finally looked up, and she was immediately struck by his eyes. They were a light, eerie blue. Piercing one might say.
And that stare. That stare could freeze meat, Fiona thought with a shiver.
“You related to Tony Gallagher?” he asked her.
“He’s my brother. Do you know him?”
“Yeah, I know him.”
And judging by his scowl, the experience hadn’t been all that pleasant. Fiona wondered what the source of friction had been between Doggett and her brother. Tony could be a bit...unpredictable at times. She suspected the same was probably true of Doggett.
“Are you the lead detective on this case?” she asked briskly.
“Let’s assume that I am.”
She wasn’t sure what he meant by that, but the last thing Fiona wanted was to become embroiled in a turf war between two homicide detectives. “What can you tell me about the investigation?”
He gave her a mild once-over, but that laser beam stare didn’t tell her a damn thing about what he was thinking. “The victim was shot in the back of the head with what looks to be a .45 caliber slug.”
“Have you identified her yet?”
“We’re running her prints now.”
“Any witnesses?”
“Not that we’ve found so far. The buildings in this area are mostly office space, and everything’s closed at this hour.”
“What about security cameras? Maybe something was caught on tape.”
Doggett nodded. “We’re working on that.”
Someone called out his name, and he turned as another detective hurried toward him. When the man saw Fiona, he stopped abruptly.
“This is Fiona Gallagher. She’s an ASA,” Doggett said. “This is Detective Vreeland.”
Vreeland nodded. “We’ve met.” His tone inferred it had been a pleasure he’d just as soon not repeat.
Vreeland and his partner, Jay Krychek, along with Vincent DeMarco, had been part of the Internal Affairs investigation into the allegations of misconduct by some of the detectives under Frank Quinlan’s command. Unlike DeMarco and Krychek, Vreeland had struck Fiona as a by-the-book cop. A basically honorable man doing a sometimes impossible job. If anything unethical and illegal had gone on during Quinlan’s watch, she doubted Vreeland had been a party to it. But, like any good cop, he wasn’t about to testify against one of his own.
He turned back to Doggett. “We checked the cross directory. The number isn’t in there, which means it’s either unlisted or a cell phone.”
“You try calling it?” Doggett asked.
Vreeland shook his head. “We didn’t want to tip our hand unless we had to.”
“What phone number?” Fiona asked.
“The crime scene techs found a purse in the Dumpster they think belonged to the victim. A phone number was stashed inside a compact, and we’re trying to track down a name to go with it.” Doggett took out his cell phone, and turned back to Vreeland. “Let’s give it a shot. Maybe we’ll get lucky and get a name off an answering machine.”
Doggett punched in the number, then lifted the unit to his ear and listened. A second later, the phone in Fiona’s purse started to ring.
CHAPTER FOUR
“THAT HAS TO BE A coincidence,” Fiona said as she fished in her purse for her cell phone. “The timing’s too perfect to be anything else.”
“One way to find out,” Doggett said.
She pressed the talk button and lifted the phone to her ear. “Hello?”
“Coincidence, huh?”
Fiona was looking at Doggett, saw his lips move, but it took her brain a split second to register his voice in her ear. Then her gaze met his, and simultaneously they hung up their phones.
“I guess you’d better have a look at the body,” he said grimly.
She would have anyway, but now Fiona’s stomach churned in apprehension. If her phone number had been in the victim’s possession, then she was undoubtedly someone Fiona knew. Maybe a client, maybe just an acquaintance, but someone who had crossed her path. Fiona prayed it was nothing more personal than that.
The body was already being prepped for transport to the morgue, but Doggett waved the attendants aside. As they stepped back, one of them momentarily blocked the light so that Fiona could barely make out the victim’s features. She didn’t recognize her at first, but then the man moved away, and the light hit the dead woman’s face full on.
Fiona gasped. She took an involuntary step back, straight into Doggett. Rather than moving away to give her some room, he put his hands on her arms to steady her. “Easy.”
He was strong in spite of his lean physique. Beneath the dark suit he wore, his body was hard and muscular. More than capable of holding Fiona up if she needed him to.
But she didn’t need him to. Or want him to. She was still in shock, but she could stand on her own two feet just fine. She’d seen corpses before, only usually, thank God, they weren’t someone she knew.
She stared down at the victim’s beautiful face. That beautiful, pale, lifeless face, and Fiona’s legs began to tremble in spite of her resolve.
Doggett’s hands tightened on her arms. “You’re not going to faint or anything, are you?”
“No, I’m okay,” she insisted.
“Do you know her?” His deep voice rumbled in her ear and Fiona shivered.
“Her name is Alicia Mercer. Her mother is a friend of mine.”
“Then I assume you know how we can get in touch with her next of kin?”
Fiona nodded. Doggett’s hands were still on her arms, but for some reason, she didn’t seem to mind. She hardly even noticed until he took them away. “Her parents—her mother and stepfather—live in Houston. Lori and Paul Guest. They’re both attorneys. I have their phone number and address at home. Alicia and her twin sister, Lexi, are students at Hillsboro University. They share an apartment off campus. Or at least...they did.”
Doggett jotted down the information in his notebook, then glanced up. “You say the victim is a twin? You’re positive about her identity?”
“Yes, I’m positive. It’s Alicia. She and Lexi look a great deal alike, but they’re not identical. You can check her fingerprints, but I know it’s her...” Fiona trailed off as she gazed down at the body. “She does look different, though.”
“Different
