“Yeah. I’ve gotta go bring the chief up to date. Wish me luck.”

Jackson gave him a nod and Boyd left the break room, looking more anxious than Jackson had ever seen the young sergeant appear before. But then, he was being called to his boss’s boss’s boss’s office to explain an attack on one of New Orleans’s favorite natives and the daughter of one of the most powerful and wealthy men in the state. Jackson could only imagine how stressful that conversation would be. The chief wasn’t exactly known for his calm demeanor. He’d take the attack on Corrine as a personal insult to him, the police, the department of social services, the city, the state, and maybe even the universe.

Jackson exited out of the break room and saw Vincent strolling across the department, a good hour late. Jackson headed across the room and before he could talk himself out of it, stopped at Vincent’s desk. “Did you hear about the attack on Senator Archer’s daughter?”

Vincent flopped into his chair and looked up at Jackson. “Is that what all the hoopla is about outside?”

Jackson nodded. “Boyd took the call yesterday but he won’t get the case, not given the vic. I was thinking maybe we could ask for it.”

“The hell you were! The last thing I want to do is spend my time answering directly to a politician. Bad enough we’re usually answering to them indirectly. I don’t need a single bit of information to already know that everything about that case stinks. Too many suspects, for starters. Want to run down a list for me of every enemy our good senator has and combine that with the list of people who lost their kids and wouldn’t mind taking a shot at a social worker? We’d be investigating half the city, and that’s a conservative estimate.”

“It would be a big feather in your cap, though. Think about it. With a recommendation from Senator Archer, you could take your pick of cush security work when you retired.”

Vincent frowned, and Jackson could tell he was considering the benefit of a more luxurious retirement against the requirement of actually working. Laziness must have won out, because he shook his head. “I got plenty to retire on. Anything gained wouldn’t be worth the headache. Take my word on that, Jackson. You’re young and don’t know shit about how things work. You’ll get your chance to tangle with politicos soon enough, but not as long as I’m on the ride with you.”

Jackson didn’t bother to launch another argument. It was clear Vincent’s mind was made up. He nodded and headed back to his desk to shuffle more paperwork, his frustration starting to get the better of him. At first, he’d been simply bored with the lack of work, then he’d grown aggravated with Vincent’s laziness and his unchecked ability to hold Jackson back. Now he was simply getting angry, and sooner or later, everything would come to a head.

His cell phone rang and when he saw Shaye’s name come up on the display, he grabbed it and took off for the break room again. He had left Shaye a message the day before, wanting to talk to her about what he’d managed to find on David Grange, but he couldn’t imagine she was calling about David. Not with her mother in the hospital.

When he was far enough away from Vincent, he pressed the screen and answered the call.

“I need to talk to you,” Shaye said. “Can you get away to meet?”

“When?”

“Thirty minutes. The same café.”

“I’ll be there,” he said, not even caring if Vincent bitched about him taking off again. He slipped the phone into his pocket and went back to his desk to grab his keys.

“Where are you going?” Vincent asked.

“I’ve got an errand to run.”

“You’ve got paperwork to do.”

“And it will take me twenty minutes. When you have some real work for us, give me a call. I’ll be back later.”

A couple of detectives with desks nearby raised their eyebrows, but no one was stupid enough to comment. They all knew Vincent was slacking, but he had seniority. Without waiting for a response, Jackson turned around and headed for the back exit, already wondering why Shaye wanted to meet. He had a gut feeling that she knew something about her mother’s attack that Boyd didn’t.

Something that might narrow the suspects down from half the city to a handful.

###

Emma pulled on her scrubs and ran a comb through her hair. She’d ordered a huge breakfast and managed to eat at least two bites of everything. Given that her last meal had been lunch the day before, it still wasn’t enough, but it was all her nervous stomach could handle. While she’d struggled through breakfast, she’d planned her escape. San Diego had a slew of open nursing positions, and a good amount for private practices, not just hospitals. If she was going to fade into the sunset, then she needed to change everything, not just her location.

She had enough money to get to California and live off of for several months. A beach house was out of the question; a studio apartment was within reach. As soon as the house sold, she’d have enough money to get a small place there or pick up and go somewhere else.

Her cell phone rang and she checked the display. It was the hospital. She answered the call, expecting to hear her supervisor asking her to work another double, but it was Jeremy.

“Ms. Frederick, this is Jeremy. Are you all right?”

The worry was so apparent in Jeremy’s voice that Emma instantly felt bad that she hadn’t contacted the security guard sooner. He’d shoved her into her car the night before and practically yelled at her to leave. She’d followed his instructions and never looked back, but that meant Jeremy was left standing in the parking lot wondering what the hell was going on.

“I’m okay,” she said. “I’m sorry about last night. I didn’t mean to scare you.”

“Wasn’t you that caused the problem. Those mice didn’t blind themselves and stroll across the parking lot to die next to your car. I figure there’s things about it I don’t understand, but I didn’t have to know all the details to see you were terrified.”

“Yes, I was. Am.”

“I know you’re scheduled today, but I didn’t know if you’d come in. I wanted to let you know I reviewed the security footage of the parking lot.”

Emma clutched her phone. “Did you see him?”

“Yes. But he was wearing a hoodie and he never looked toward the camera. He walked across the parking lot to your car, his head down, and sometimes turned away from the cameras at an angle. He knew they were there.”

Damn it! Another dead end.

“I figure you’re going to the police, right?” Jeremy asked. “I know it’s not much, but at least I can show them proof that someone did it deliberately.”

“Of course. Thank you, Jeremy. I’ll be sure and let them know.”

“This guy…he’s a piece of bad work.”

“Yes, he is.”

“You be careful. If you come in today, you park up front with the ambulances, okay? I’ll see to it that no one has a problem with it.”

Emma’s eyes teared up at Jeremy’s kindness. “Thank you so much. I’ll see you soon.”

She hung up before she started crying. So many people were worried about her and doing the most they could to help. It was heartening and overwhelming at the same time. Even worse, it was frightening. Her stalker had already gone after Shaye for helping her. What if he went after Jeremy next?

That couldn’t happen.

She stuffed her pistol and cell phone into her purse and headed downstairs to the valet. “I’m sorry,” she said to the young man at the valet station. “I wasn’t feeling well last night and forgot to wait for a ticket when I left my car.”

“That’s okay, ma’am,” the valet said. “The manager recognized it. I’ll get it for you right away.”

“Thank you.”

The young man hurried off and Emma waited anxiously for her vehicle, a million thoughts rolling through her head. So many things to do, and all of them needed to be done now. She had to get organized. Get a plan and get out of New Orleans.