Ready to Die (Alvarez & Pescoli)

“What?” Rule glanced down the hallway, then muttered, “Great.” Rule, it seemed, shared her feelings.

Heading their way in his usual flannel shirt, khakis, and down vest, the reporter for the local newspaper forced a smile as if he’d just come across long-lost friends.

“I’ll handle him,” Rule said, straightening and seeming to grow another two inches.

“Detective!” Manny said. “Any word on the sheriff?”

“Nothing I can talk about,” Alvarez answered. “I’m sure there will be a press conference tomorrow.”

“But I’ve got a deadline tonight and my readers would love to know how the sheriff is doing!” A thin, persistent man with a mouthful of crooked teeth, Manny was a pain in the backside. “Any leads on who attacked him?” Manny had already pulled a mini-recorder from the pocket of his vest.

“You know I can’t talk about that.”

Rule stepped between them. “The hospital’s off-limits, Douglas.”

“I know, but we’ve worked together before.”

Selena wasn’t going to be sweet-talked or bullied. “Not this time, Manny.”

Manny tried again, “But Grayson’s an elected official. His public, the people who put him into office, have the right to know what happened to him and how he’s doing.”

“You heard the detective,” Rule said a little more sternly. “We’re not talking about the sheriff.”

“I can’t tell you any more than what you can get through the hospital patient information desk,” Alvarez added.

Manny hesitated a bit, then shifted gears. “All right,” he said finally. “What can you tell me about Judge Samuels-Piquard?”

Alvarez stopped short. “What about her?”

“She’s missing.”

“Missing?” Alvarez repeated, thinking of the tall, athletic woman whose opinions were usually fair, but her sentences harsh. With short red hair and a demeanor that brooked no arguments, she was a big, blowsy woman whose tongue was as sharp as her wit. “You mean, officially? Someone’s filed a report with Missing Persons?” Alvarez clarified, just to make certain the reporter wasn’t on a fishing expedition.

“That’s the word on the street.”

“What street is that?” she said skeptically. For years she’d suspected that Manny had someone on the inside who was giving him information, a leak in the department. “Who said—”

“Uh-uh, don’t even go there.” He held up a hand as if to fend off an attack. “You know I’ll never reveal my sources.”

Rule snorted his disdain and folded his arms over his chest, stretching the shoulders of his uniform, appearing more intimidating than ever.

Selena said to Manny, “Cut it out. This isn’t an episode of Law and Order.”

“Yeah, yeah, I know. But I’ve got rights, as does my source.”

“Your source?”

“I’m just relaying what I heard. I thought you could confirm. Obviously not.” He was already backing up, easing toward the bank of elevators. A cynical smile slashed across the stubble on his jaw. “Looks like Grayson isn’t the only one having a bad Christmas.”

Chapter 9

Hattie tossed her keys into her purse, dropped her bag onto the kitchen table, then started down the hallway past the girls’ room where she cracked open the door and saw they both were sleeping soundly, both in mussed twin beds, both with stuffed animals spread over the quilts and onto the floor. Blowing them each a kiss, she closed the door softly and walked to her bedroom on the other side of the hallway.

Her mother had already left, though Zena had come up with dozens of questions Hattie couldn’t answer as she’d reluctantly grabbed her coat from the small front closet.

“I could spend the night,” she’d offered, genuinely concerned. “This is horrid for you, and you could sleep in. Get some rest. I’ll watch the girls in the morning.”

“Thanks, Mom, but I can’t. I’ve got paperwork to catch up on, and I’ve got to plan for a dinner party I’m catering this weekend. The twins are already scheduled to spend the day with Rachel and her boys.” Rachel McCallister was a single mother who babysat for extra money and lived only six doors down, in the same complex, so it was handy, and over the years they’d become fast friends.