Blood Orchid (Holly Barker 3)

“Yeah, and a lot of it. He bought his girl an expensive diamond ring, for one thing. I think he thought he’d do these jobs, then get out clean. Otherwise, he wouldn’t have used his own pistol in one of the murders. He thought nobody could ever connect him to any of his victims, and he was probably right, except he didn’t count on getting blown away by the people who hired him.”

“They never do, do they?” Harry said.

“Get back to me, Harry.” She hung up as Hurd walked into her office.

“The rifle had no prints on it,” he said. “I guess they were washed away by being underwater for a few days. But we picked up a pretty good thumbprint on the magazine of the pistol, and it isn’t Carlos’s print. I think the only reason we got it was because the magazine had some oil on it. We’re running it now.”

“That’s great, Hurd. When you’re done with the weapons, send them to the FBI lab in Washington; here’s the address.” She handed him the paper. “I think we might be getting somewhere.”

“I’m glad,” Hurd said. “Holly, I think this is going to be my last day on the job.”

“So soon?” Holly asked. “I’d hoped you’d stay on for at least a couple more weeks, for a smooth transition.”

“It’s done; I’ve broken up my duties and reassigned them. Here’s a list.” He put a file on her desk. “Everybody’s briefed; I’m now superfluous.”

Holly stood up. “Thank you, Hurd, for always doing a superb job. I’m going to miss you.” She shook his hand.

“I’ll miss you, too, Holly,” he said.

For a moment, Holly thought she saw a flash of emotion on Hurd’s usually impassive face.

A few hours later, the phone rang.

“Hello?” Holly answered.

“It’s your turn to cook for me,” Grant said.

She looked at her watch. “I’ll pick up something on the way home. My place at seven-thirty?”

“You’re on.”

Holly hung up, glowing with anticipation.

34

Holly stopped at the grocery store and picked up the makings for a pasta dish she was particularly good at and a couple of bottles of a Dolcetto, a very nice Italian wine. She got home, fed Daisy and let her out, then started cooking. By the time Grant arrived, the house smelled wonderful.

She threw her arms around him and gave him a big kiss.

“Hey, you’re in a good mood!”

“You bet I am. I’m making real good progress on the floater case, and I’ve even got Harry Crisp onboard.”

“Tell me about it.”

She told him everything, about Marina and the shooting range, about Pio Pellegrino and his father, who didn’t exist a few years back. She told him about recovering both weapons and shipping them to Washington.

“You’ve had a good couple of days, then,” Grant said. “Especially getting Harry onboard. How’d you do that?”

“By coming up with more evidence than his own people were able to find. He’s not happy about being onboard, believe me, but I think he’s finally learning that he gets further when he trusts me, instead of shouldering me out of the investigation.”

“I hope he’s that smart,” Grant said. “Harry can revert to type at the drop of a hat. He’s a good guy to work for in a lot of ways, but—remember that someone once said that there’s no limit to how far you can go, if you don’t care who gets the credit? Harry has never figured that out. Every time our office makes a big bust, the report has got Harry’s palm prints all over it, and the guys who really did the work are mentioned somewhere down at the bottom of the page.”

“Well, I’m not competing with him for the credit; I just want to know what the hell is going on in my town.”

“Next time I talk to him, I’ll see if I can point that out to him, subtly.”

“If you’re subtle, Harry won’t get it.”