Ready to Die (Alvarez & Pescoli)

“You didn’t want to call?”

“No.”

Brewster stared at her a second. “So on Christmas morning, early Christmas morning, you go busting up there just in time to see him being hit by a sniper’s bullet?”

She met Brewster’s disbelieving stare. “What’re you saying here?” She climbed to her feet and leaned over the broad expanse of his desk. “That I knew something was going down? That I was . . . what? A part of it?” she asked, horrified and angry as hell.

“I’m just asking questions, Regan, the same questions you would be asking if the situation were reversed.” He arched an eyebrow, encouraging her to deny what they both knew to be true.

“Okay, you’re right . . . I’m sorry,” she said, half choking on the apology. Brewster was a decent enough cop and now, whether she liked it or not, he was her boss. At least temporarily.

“You have a problem working with Gage?”

“No.” She waved off the idea. “It’s just that he’s the chief criminal detective and it makes it a little stiff. He’s good, don’t get me wrong, but he and I don’t click quite the same way I do with Alvarez. Besides, he has more important things to do.”

“Like pushing paper?”

“Like organizing the cases and overseeing what’s happening, making sure everyone is doing his or her job. He doesn’t have time to be running around investigating with me.”

“We’re down people right now. No money in the budget to hire more.”

“Alvarez is back.”

“Yeah, fine.” He leaned back in his chair again and took a second to look out the window to the gray day beyond. “I’m not going to argue with you. We’ve got too much to do.” His face hardened as he turned his attention back to the situation at hand. “Any headway on suspects?”

“Just the usuals; the cons who are back on the street. So far they’ve all alibied up.”

“Family?”

“Haven’t really sorted all that out yet.”

“Incestuous, isn’t it? Brothers marrying sisters and whatnot.”

“No one with a clear motive aside from the first ex-wife, Cara. She stands to gain, big time. But I don’t see her as a murderer with an assault rifle.”

“Hired assassin?”

Regan shook her head; she’d already considered the money angle and discarded it.

“Double-check. Not just the ex-wife who’s inheriting, but the second one who might just hold a grudge.”

“We’re on it.”

“And don’t forget Grayson’s sister-in-law and his brothers and any other shirttail cousin, uncle, or aunt who might hold a grudge.”

Did he think she was a moron? “Of course, as well as any political enemies he may have picked up along the way.”

Brewster made a sound in his throat that could have meant anything. “This is Grizzly Falls, Montana, not Las Vegas or Chicago or New York, but, yeah, look into that angle as well.” He stood, signifying the meeting was over. “Let me know what the ex-wife has to say, that could be interesting.”

For once, Pescoli agreed. “Alvarez and I are going to see her in an hour.”

“Good.”

He appeared about to dismiss her, so she asked, “What about Judge Samuels-Piquard? I heard she’s gone missing.”

“Yeah.” He drummed his fingers on the top of his desk and frowned. “Maybe. Maybe not. I’ve got people checking, working with the sheriff’s department in the next county as her cabin’s so close to the county line, just in case. Let’s hope it’s all a mistake and she turns up. Soon.”

“Right. Anything else?”