Deadly Force. Beverly Long

shrugged, letting her know that her grudging admission hadn’t been lost on him. “It wasn’t all that tough. She didn’t have a purse or a wallet on her, but she did have a set of keys in her pocket. When you were talking to the others, I walked outside, pointed the electric door opener at several cars, and sure enough, the lights on the green Toyota Camry started blinking. Her purse was in the trunk and when I matched up the license picture with uh…her face, I knew it was her.”

      “She doesn’t have all that much of a face left,” Claire said, swallowing hard.

      “A family member will need to make a positive ID down at the morgue. My partner, Cruz Montoya, is helping the coroner chase that down right now.” Sam pulled his straw out of his empty container and started tapping it on the table. “I understand your apartment was burglarized just a few weeks ago. Do you think this has anything to do with that?”

      “I have no idea.”

      He bent his straw double, then again, until it was a hard ball of plastic. He relaxed his hold and it sprang apart. Then he started folding again. “How long have you known Nadine?”

      “Forever. We went to grade school together. We’d been planning this move to Chicago all through college. We both took jobs in Omaha after graduation. I needed some work experience before advertising agencies in Chicago would consider me. When I got the job at Alexander and Pope, she applied for nursing positions. She got one at Melrey.” Claire scooted to the edge of the booth. “Look, if there aren’t any more questions, I’d like to go.”

      “Your apartment is a crime scene. You can’t stay there.”

      Right now, she didn’t ever want to see her apartment again. “I know. I can’t even have it cleaned up until I get the okay. Fortunately, one of the officers gave me a business card. He said they’d do a good job.”

      Sam shook his head. “They aren’t supposed to do that. Just so you know, it’s probably his cousin.”

      She shrugged. She couldn’t care less. Their landlord had been one of the hundred people who’d flooded the apartment. He’d told them it was their responsibility to get the apartment cleaned and repainted. She and Nadine had agreed the couch was simply getting thrown out.

      “So where are you two planning to stay?” he prompted.

      “I’m staying at a hotel.” At the cheapest one she could find. Her credit card balances were mounting. “Nadine’s going home for a week or two. She worked it out with her supervisor.”

      “I’m not crazy about her leaving right now,” Sam said. “I might have more questions for her.”

      “I have her cell number, her mother’s cell and her parents’ home number.” Claire slid her purse strap onto her shoulder. It wasn’t going to be Sam Vernelli’s worry. She was making that call at eight o’clock Monday morning.

      He pointed to his card that was still clenched in her fingers. “My work number is on that card. Let me give you my cell, in the event that you think of something else or if you…need anything.”

      “Do you give your personal cell number to all your crime victims?” she asked.

      “You’re not just anybody. You’re Tessa’s—”

      “Little sister.” She squared her shoulders. “I don’t think either one of us can forget that.” She squatted and reached for the handle of the black duffel bag that she’d stuffed under the table. “Good night, Detective Vernelli.”

      “I’ll drive you to your hotel.”

      She shook her head.

      He looked as if he wanted to spit nails. “Fine. I’ll get you a cab.”

      She held up a finger. “Detective Vernelli, I am grateful for your assistance today. To say I wasn’t would be lying. But you and I both know that nothing good can come out of our having anything to do with one another. So, don’t call me a cab. Don’t call me period.”

       Chapter Three

      Sam dialed Cruz’s cell as he walked to his car. When Cruz answered, Sam asked, “Hey, can you talk?”

      “Yeah,” his partner said. “It’s just me and a couple cheeseburgers sitting in my car. I thought you and Claire were grabbing a bite.”

      “Yeah, well, she eats fast. So what do we know about Sandy Bird?”

      “She’s got two kids, ten-year-old twins. She’s the president of the Arlington Heights Parent-Teacher Organization.”

      “None of that makes any sense. What would she be doing breaking into an apartment on Maple? Is she married?”

      “Yes. For the last ten years. To Fletcher Bird. He’s a pharmacist, works in the Loop.”

      “What’s your read on him?” Sam asked.

      “He’s shook, doesn’t know what to tell his kids. Said that he had no idea why his wife would have been in Claire’s apartment. The names Claire Fontaine and Nadine Myer didn’t mean anything to him.”

      Sam closed his eyes. Nothing was ever easy. “Okay. You want to start the process for us to check the phone and computer records?”

      “Request is already in. He and his wife both had a cell and a home phone. PCs at home and his office. Claire has a laptop and she and Nadine each have a cell and one landline. You know, this used to be easier before everyone needed to be connected 24/7.”

      “I know.” Sam wondered if Claire had any idea that her privacy was about to be compromised. “I had The Weasel snap pictures of both Nadine and Claire. I don’t want to push the husband too hard when he’s got his hands full of funeral arrangements, but I think we need to see if he recognizes either of them.”

      “Maybe she just picked today to go off the deep end,” Cruz suggested. “Maybe her husband’s name finally drove her over the edge. By the way, I pulled the full robbery report. I was going to call you but I didn’t know if you’d want to be interrupted.” His tone was full of suggestion.

      Sam started his car and pulled out into the heavy traffic. “I told you, she’s Tessa’s sister.” Cruz and his boss were the only two in the department who knew the story. “We grabbed a bite to eat and she’s on her way to a hotel.” No need to add that she’d done it without a backward glance in his direction.

      “She’s a beautiful woman. Nobody was questioning why you decided to leap tall buildings to save her.”

      Sam sighed. “I was doing my job, Cruz.”

      “Half the guys trooping through her apartment today plan to ask her out. The other half are either gay or too afraid she’ll shut them down and they’ll never recover from the pain.”

      “That’s ridiculous. She’s only twenty-four.”

      “Last time I checked that was six years past legal.”

      Sam switched lanes quickly and horns blared in response. Yeah, so what that he’d noticed that she looked really good in her black leggings and long sweater that was snug in just the right places? He was human, wasn’t he?

      Debatable. At least from Claire’s perspective. She’d made it pretty clear that she wasn’t impressed and no doubt would make her call first thing Monday morning.

      The case would be reassigned and he’d be out from under this rock. Good.

      ON SUNDAY MORNING, Cruz bumped his leg against Sam’s desk, carrying a stack of manila folders, two large coffees and a white sack. Sam reached for the coffees and Cruz dropped the folders on the desk. “So much for Sunday being the day of rest,” Cruz said. Then he opened the sack and pulled out some kind of egg and sausage thing on a biscuit with cheese dripping over the side.

      “You used to eat cereal and bananas