Dead Cold Mysteries Box Set #3: Books 9-12 (A Dead Cold Box Set) Blake Banner (best books to read ever txt) 📖

I frowned at her, opened the door and got in.

She got in the passenger seat and slammed the door. “I am not betraying you just because I don’t agree with you!”

I pulled out of the lot and headed toward the Expressway.

After a moment she said, “You don’t have to guilt trip me. I can have a different opinion from you. I don’t have to agree with you all the time.”

After I had turned west onto the Bruckner Expressway she looked at me and said, “Aren’t you going to say anything?”

I glanced at her and sighed. “What do you want me to say, Dehan? You’re mad at me. I am not mad at you. You have a different opinion from me. That’s fine. I haven’t got time to argue with you. I am trying to figure out how to avoid another woman getting killed, and that is taking up all of my attention. I’m sorry you feel I’m guilt tripping you, but I do not feel betrayed.”

After a bit she said, “You don’t?”

“No.”

Her phone rang. She pulled it from her pocket and answered, “Dehan.”

She listened, glanced at me, looked embarrassed and said, “Yes sir, Frank is giving it priority. He’ll get back to us as soon as he has anything.” She was silent again. “It seems to have been the same killer, yes, sir. The MO is the same.” Another silence. “We are on our way to Rikers now. Yes sir, I understand. We will, sir… He is right here beside me, sir. He’s driving. Yes, I’ll tell him, sir.

“That was…”

“I know who it was.”

“He wanted…”

“I know what he wanted. He wanted to make sure I didn’t sabotage the deal. Do you want to take the lead in this investigation, Dehan?”

Her eyes went wide. “No! John!”

“Are you sure?”

“Of course I’m sure!”

“Do you think the inspector would like you to take over?”

“No! John, stop it!”

“Perhaps you should ask him.”

“John, you are having a tantrum like a spoiled kid!”

I smiled at her. “If you and he don’t approve of my conduct of the inquiry, then perhaps you should lead. It’s not a big deal, Dehan.”

She folded her arms and didn’t talk to me again until we reached the prison. When I parked the car in the lot, I climbed out and called the inspector. He sounded embarrassed.

“Stone, what can I do for you?”

“Is there anything you need to say to me, sir?”

“Um, no, just, ah… what I said to Carmen, um, you were driving.”

“Do I still have lead on this case, sir?”

“Of course you do, Stone! Naturally…”

“Thank you, sir.”

I hung up. Dehan was staring at me, shaking her head. “You’re being ridiculous.”

I pulled my laptop from the back seat and closed the door, then stared at her for a long moment. I handed her the key and said, “Dehan, will you please go to Teddy’s Late Night Bar and, if you have to drag him by his collar and put a gun to his head, make him give you Jimmy Fillmore’s details.”

“Are you kidding me?”

“No. And the instant he gives them to you, call me.”

“Stone, are you serious? Are you sidelining me?”

I stepped toward her. “Dehan, this is important. For one thing, Wayne cannot concentrate when you are in his presence. For another, if we get Jimmy Fillmore before Wayne talks, we don’t need the deal. And whatever you think of my instincts, you will at least admit that Wayne Harris is one son of a bitch who should not be on the street.”

She blinked at me.

“But more than that, Dehan, if you have ever known my gut to be right, then please give it the benefit of the doubt now. I am not sidelining you. I am asking you to do something important. More important than wasting time on this stupid deal.”

She blinked at me again.

I felt a knot of hot anger in my gut. “Carmen, I am asking you to do what I would be doing if I didn’t have to be here. Please do it!”

She snatched the keys from me and climbed in the car. I watched her pull out of the lot and accelerate away. Then I turned toward the prison complex and started to walk.

* * *

The clang and roll of the steel doors echoed down concrete corridors like a clumsy death knell. Wayne was brought in, manacled and shuffling in his orange jumpsuit. He smiled his snake-smile at me as he crossed the floor and sat at the table. His guards cuffed him. He watched me as the officers left the room and slammed the door shut. My laptop was set up to record the conversation. He watched me press record and smiled.

“I really scared Detective Dehan, huh?”

“Is that something you enjoy, Wayne, scaring women?”

He sighed, like a man who has grown tired of a game. “You got me all wrong, Detective Stone.” I waited while he studied my face a little longer. “I know I am my own worst enemy. My momma was always tellin’ me that: ‘Wayne Harris, you are your own worst enemy!’ My daddy never told me nothin’. He just took his belt to me on a regular basis.” He gave a small laugh. “You might say that he made me strong and she gave me self-awareness.”

I yawned loudly. “Is this going somewhere, Wayne?”

“Yeah, it’s goin’ somewhere, Detective. I’m tellin’ you why you got me all wrong.”

“Who killed Angela Fernandez?”

He laughed. “Whoa there, boy! Buy a girl a drink! Give me a chance!”

“No. I’m getting bored, Wayne. I don’t believe you know jack. I think you’re a narcissistic asshole who likes to play games, and you get off on all the