Chapter Fourteen

Nicole tried to apply lipstick while simultaneously searching for a parking space. Seeing nothing, she circled the block again.

“Pick up, Emmet,” she muttered at her phone.

It went to voicemail again.

“Damn it.”

She zipped the lipstick into her purse and grabbed her phone from the cup holder. This time she called Adam.

“Hello?”

Someone pulled out of a parking space, and she slammed on the brakes.

“Yes!” she said, switching on her blinker.

“Nicole?”

“Yeah, sorry, I’m talking to myself.” She drove past the space and shifted into reverse. “Hey, Adam, you happen to know where Emmet is? I’ve called him twice, but he’s not answering his phone.”

“Yeah.”

She whipped into the space and parked. It was ten after seven. She was already late.

“Adam? Is he with you or—”

“Yeah, we’re here at the station. He’s in the chief’s office. Wait, no. He just walked into the conference room.”

She waited for a car to pass and then shoved open the door. “Great. Could you put him on for me? I’m on my way to dinner and I need to talk to him real quick.”

“One sec.”

She grabbed her little black purse and got out. It was the same purse as last time, but tonight instead of wearing her sister’s dress, she was in her own clothes—a black miniskirt and black cashmere sweater, plus suede ankle boots that made her legs look longer. Not quite as eye-popping an outfit as last time, but at least she wouldn’t freeze her butt off walking to and from the restaurant.

“Hey, what’s up?” Emmet said, sounding distracted.

“I’ve been calling your phone.” She stepped onto the sidewalk, and the skinny heel of her boot snagged on a crack in the pavement. She pulled it free and then hurried down the sidewalk. “Emmet? You there?”

“Yeah, what is it?”

“You’ll never guess who I bumped into again.”

“Hang on.”

She heard muffled voices, followed by quiet.

Nicole glanced across the street at the restaurant on the corner. She looked up and down the block, just in case David was arriving late, too. She didn’t want to look like a maniac racing to the restaurant to meet him.

“Okay, what’s this?”

“Emmet, listen, I can’t talk long but I had to tell you, I just interviewed Liam Shaunessy again.”

“Who’s—”

“The guy from the beach with the teal green truck. And the dog and the kid and the toy airplane. And get this, he has video.”

“What?”

“Video. This guy was with his kid flying a remote-control plane they got for Christmas, and he took a video, and in the background you can see Aubrey’s car.”

“You’re joking.”

“No! It’s right there on video. And not only that—” She stopped at the corner and jabbed the crosswalk button. She wanted to sprint across, but there was too much traffic.

“Nicole?”

“You won’t believe this, but you can actually see a man getting out of Aubrey’s car. He gets out of the driver’s seat. I’m thinking maybe he had her in the front with him already. Maybe he took her somewhere private and had started staging the scene? And then he drove to the beach and repositioned the body and—”

“Wait, wait, wait. You’re saying it’s the perp?”

“Yes. It’s right there on video! It’s Aubrey’s car. I mean, the footage is from a distance, but you can see—”

“Where is it?”

“On the beach. Where we recovered the vehicle.”

“No, I mean, where is this footage?”

“I emailed the clip to you and to Brady. Check your inbox. And I got the witness’s info. He’s coming in first thing tomorrow morning to give us a sworn statement.”

“Hang on. Let me pull up my email.”

“Emmet, it’s from a distance, but this is huge. We can place this guy at the car as he’s dumping the body—”

“Okay, I got it. One sec, let me open it.”

The walk sign turned green, and Nicole jogged across.

Brakes squealed. Horns blared. Nicole whirled around to see a silver truck grille coming straight at her.

Her heart skittered.

“Watch out!” someone yelled.

Nicole lunged for the sidewalk. The truck swerved. Screaming, she dove for the hood of a car.

The scream turned Emmet’s blood cold.

“Nicole?”

Car horns, yelling. Then a distant, “Someone call 911!”

Emmet jumped up from his chair. “Nicole?”

The call went dead.

He dialed her back, heart thundering. Straight to voicemail.

“Fuck!”

“What’s wrong?”

He glanced up to see Adam standing in the doorway to the conference room. “Where’s Nicole?” Emmet demanded.

Adam just stared at him, confused.

“Where was she calling you from?”

Adam shook his head. “I don’t know. I think she was in her car.”

Emmet dialed her again. Voicemail.

“Goddamn it.” He gripped his hair.

“What is it?”

“Did she say what she was doing?”

“She said... I think she was on her way to dinner?”

Dinner. She was going to Angelo’s.

“Here.” Emmet tossed Adam’s phone at him and rushed out of the conference room. He crossed the bullpen, snatched his keys and phone off his desk, and spied a couple of uniforms standing by the radio.

They started to move for the door.

“Neil, wait!” Emmet jogged to catch up with them. “Where are you going?”

“Accident downtown,” Neil said. “Someone just called in.”

“What—”

“Sounds like car versus pedestrian.”