Chapter 6
Chapter Six
Max shoved her to the side, and they tumbled onto the ground next to a dumpster as the car screamed past, so close Kara felt the heat of the engine, and the smell of exhaust choked the narrow alley as the vehicle disappeared as fast as it had come.
She was still catching her breath when Max jumped to his feet and sprinted down the alley after the car. By the time she pushed herself up and brushed the gravel off her clothes, he was already walking back, shaking his head, anger in every tight line of his expression.
"Gone," he said. "Are you okay?"
"I'm fine. Thanks for the save." She was a little disappointed in herself for not seeing the danger as quickly as he had, but she wasn't going to tell him that. "Did you catch a number on the license plate?"
"No."
She pulled out her phone. "I need to call this in. Let's go back to Jonas's apartment."
As they walked down the alley and around the corner to the front of the building, she made a note of the street address.
Once they had reentered the apartment, she called her Team Ops Center, which was manned 24/7, while Max looked around.
He clearly knew not to touch anything, skirting the path around the victim and ignoring Jonas's phone, which was lying in a pool of blood.
There could be important evidence on that phone, but it might take time to open it.
After the dispatcher confirmed NYPD and EMS were on their way, she ended the call and walked over to the body, squatting down beside the victim. Her experienced gaze took in the details of the attack. The attacker had probably come up from behind Jonas, and the knife had been quick and deadly.
There was no other apparent bruising on Jonas's face, no evidence of a fight.
Since there had also been no sign of forced entry, it appeared Jonas had let his attacker in.
Whether that was because he knew that person or because it was an expected delivery or meeting that had gone south, she could only speculate.
Getting to her feet, she texted Tyler that she'd found Jonas, the man who'd spilled the coffee on Samantha Barkley, and that he was deceased. She would fill him in tomorrow. While she knew the ops center would contact Jason as a matter of protocol, she didn't want to leave Tyler out of the loop.
A moment later, her phone rang. "Tyler, you didn't need to call me back. I know it's late."
"It's fine. How did you find him?"
"Long story," she said as sirens lit up the air. "I showed Max Malone the sketch. He recognized Jonas as someone he'd seen at a gym where he'd taken Samantha. One thing led to another. I can fill you in later. The police are here."
"Give me the address."
"You don't have to come."
"I'm not doing anything else."
She gave him the address and ended the call as Max came out of the bedroom.
"I'm going to take off," he said.
"Now? You need to wait for the police."
"Why? Aren't you in charge of the investigation? You know what I know, and you also know where to find me. I don't need to be in the middle of this." He was already moving toward the door.
"Max—"
"I'll call you tomorrow. Be careful, Kara. The killer could have made a cleaner exit. He didn't have to come back down that alley and try to run us over. Someone knows we're not far behind them."
"I just wish I knew who that someone was," she said, but her words fell into the void of silence left by his quick departure.
Her lips tightened as she wondered why he'd exited so quickly.
Was it just about staying away from law enforcement?
Or had he found something while she was on the phone?
She hoped it was the former and not the latter, because she had thought they were on the same side. Maybe that thought had been premature.
She walked into the bedroom, which was a cluttered mess with an unmade bed, clothes, and empty snack bags. The bathroom was in the same state. There was a desk with a couple of half-open drawers, which she carefully opened with her sleeve. But the mess inside didn't seem worth digging through.
If Jonas was part of a bigger plot, and it certainly appeared that he was, she doubted any evidence of that was in this mess. It was more likely that they would find some kind of digital or payment trail.
The sound of voices sent her back into the living room as two uniformed police officers arrived. She showed them her badge and then stepped back as they moved toward Jonas.
"Messy," one of them commented. "Was he dead when you got here?"
"Yes."
A moment later, an older man in a wrinkled suit came through the door. Detective Stuart Margolin was a seasoned detective with twenty years under his belt and a man who was more loyal to his fellow officers than to the truth.
She let out a small sigh as he saw her, and his dark eyes immediately turned suspicious.
"Reid," he said shortly. "What are you doing here?"
"The victim is a person of interest in a federal investigation."
"Heard you were a fed now. Guess you had to go somewhere."
She ignored that comment, wanting to keep this encounter professional.
She explained what she'd found when she'd entered the apartment, the chase down the fire escape, and the near miss with the speeding car.
As she finished speaking, an EMS team arrived and, after making a cursory inspection of the body, immediately notified the ME's office.
"So, who exactly is this guy?" Margolin asked. "And what are you investigating?"
"I'm investigating the bombing at the café yesterday. As for his involvement, it's unclear at this point."
"Well, someone didn't want him to talk."
"We'll be handling the investigation into Mr. Cray, but we'll need your help to find his killer."
He gave her a sour look. "Yeah, sure," he said, which was code for I'm not going to help you any more than I absolutely have to. "In the meantime, this is my scene. You can go."
As the detective went to confer with the officers, she took another look around Jonas's living room, but again there weren't any clues to suggest he'd recently made a bomb or was involved in other criminal activity.
The CSI team arrived at the same time as the medical examiner, and as the room grew more crowded, she took the stairs down to the lobby where several tenants were talking to more police officers.
As she stepped outside, she ran into Tyler.
"How's it going?" he asked.
"Everything is under control. NYPD will take control of the evidence and deliver Jonas's phone, computer, and any other relevant items to us early tomorrow morning."
"Do we know for sure he was the man in the café?"
"Yes. As for whether he set off the bomb, there's no definite evidence of that, but I'm sure he was involved."
"How did you find him?"
"After I showed Max Malone the sketch, one thing led to another." She told him about the gym, the Crimson Club, and chasing Jonas's killer down the fire escape before losing him, finishing with the car almost running them down in the alley.
"You've had a busy night," Tyler said, an odd note in his voice. "Where is Malone now?"
"He left before the police arrived."
"He didn't want to make an official statement."
"Well, we were together, so he didn't see anything I didn't see."
"Are you sure about that?"
She didn't like the suspicious doubt in his question. "I'm absolutely sure."
"He didn't have a chance to remove anything from the apartment without your knowledge?"
She wasn't about to tell him Max had spent time alone in Jonas's bedroom while she'd been on the phone, because she doubted he'd found anything in there, and she was already feeling like she was being interrogated by a man who was supposed to be her equal.
"Max didn't take anything. Look, I don't know you, Tyler, and you don't know me, so we're going to have to earn each other's trust. But I'm telling you the truth."
"It's not that I don't trust you, Kara; I don't trust Malone. There's something about that guy that bothers me."
"Because you saw him in a war zone under another name. I get it. He saw you, too. And he doesn't trust you either. I don't know what happened back then, and I don't care right now. I'm only concerned about the present. Do you want to go upstairs and look around?"
"I do, but you don't need to come. You've had a long day. Go home, get some rest. I'll see you in the morning."
Tyler didn't wait for a reply as he hurried into the building.
Clearly, he wanted to check out the crime scene on his own, and she didn't quite know what to think about that.
But she was tired, and there was nothing more for her to do tonight, so she headed to her car, new questions racing through her mind.
Jonas Cray seemed like a big lead, but he couldn't tell them anything.
Hopefully, something on his phone or computer would.
Max arrived at Dominic's apartment just before nine on Wednesday morning. Dominic was working from home, and he came out of the kitchen, dressed in workout gear, drinking a green juice, and looking like he'd just finished a workout.
"I hope this isn't bad news," Dominic said warily. "Because after speaking to Samantha's doctor a few minutes ago, I was feeling hopeful. Then I saw your text that you were coming over."
"I'm glad to hear Samantha is doing better."
"I don't know if better is the right word, but she's hanging in there, and if she remains stable, they'll try to bring her out of her coma on Friday or Saturday."
"That's good news."
"You're not going to ruin my momentary optimism, are you?" Dominic asked as he motioned for him to have a seat on the couch.
"There's been a break in the case," he said as he sat down across from Dominic. "The man who spilled coffee on Samantha at the café is dead."
"What?" Dominic asked in shock. "You found him? And he's dead?"
"Yes. Let me back up. I saw a sketch of the man and recognized him. Last week, when I dropped Samantha at Forge Fitness, the same guy was standing outside the gym."
"So, he goes to the gym?"