Sophie was subdued all the way back to the station. Harrison Tisdale would have wrapped everything up in a neat little package. Now that he had an alibi, she didn't know where they'd turn next. Maybe Aliosn's killer would never be caught. Maybe Kyle would end up going to prison for a crime he didn't commit.
She was surprised that Spencer wasn't more cranky. Everything seemed to make him cranky, but somehow Tisdale's alibi did not. He was quiet as they drove but no more quiet than usual, and no tension was coming from him.
At the station, he ushered her into the bullpen ahead of him. Baird and Hardison were working but looked up when Sophie and Spencer entered.
"Well?" Hardison asked.
"He did it," Spencer replied.
"Wait. What?" Sophie stared at him.
"What do you mean, what? The man's obviously guilty."
"But his alibi..."
Spencer grinned one of his rare, devastating grins. "You fell for that?"
"What happened?" Baird asked, so Spencer outlined their visit with the younger Tisdale.
"He's good," Hardison agreed when he was finished, "but he should have known we wouldn't fall for that."
"It doesn't matter," Baird told him. "We have no proof, not with the passport to back him up."
"Okay," Sophie interrupted, "somebody please tell me what I'm missing."
"You tell us," Spencer prodded, suddenly looking her in the eye. His own eyes were intense, but she didn't look away.
"Just tell me, Eliot."
"It's obvious." He waved the passport at her. "I get him knowing where he was when his sister was murdered, but the other two? He had no reason to know that, not off hand, and no reason to mention it. He didn't even pause or ask for dates. Hell, he didn't even glance at his calendar."
"Innocent people don't prepare alibis," Baird added.
Sophie thought back to their conversation with Harrison Tisdale. He did give them his passport awfully quickly. "So, I was right? It was him."
"But we have to prove it," Hardison said. "A US passport is a pretty powerful alibi."
"So, what do we do?"
"I'll need to make a call. Have a seat."
Sophie sat down in a hard chair in front of Spencer's desk as Hardison made his call. "I can't believe you let me believe he didn't do it."
"It was humbling," Spencer replied lightly, leaning against his desk. His thigh brushed her arm, and she was momentarily distracted.
"What?" she asked when she realized what he'd said. "What's that supposed to mean?"
He looked down at her and raised his eyebrows playfully. Her stomach fluttered, and she decided she liked this side of him. She bumped his leg with her elbow in reply but didn't say anything.
"Okay, thanks," Hardison finished up on the phone.
"What did they say?" Baird asked.
"According to his credit card, he paid for three round trip tickets."
"And the dates?"
"Match the murders."
"So, he was out of the country?" Sophie felt her stomach sink.
"You're not going to start giving up this easily now, are you?" Spencer said. "There has to be another explanation."
"He forged the stamps?" Baird suggested.
Spencer pointed at her, and Hardison said, "Passport Control can check the logs."
Sophie thought about this. Forged stamps wouldn't be the way she'd do it. If she were writing the story, she'd go a completely different route. "What about a second passport?"
She felt Spencer go still against her. "A second passport?"
"He's rich enough to acquire one on the black market. It would be a lot easier than counterfeiting government documents."
"So, he could leave the country with one and come back with the other to commit the murders," Baird said thoughtfully. "It makes sense."
"And without that second passport, it's impossible to prove," Hardison added.
"Eliot, we've got to find that second passport. If we upset him today, he could be home destroying it."
He straightened up, the lightness gone from his face. His expression was almost scary as he went from relaxed to focused in a minute. To Baird and Hardison, he said, "You two keep an eye on him and let me know if he does anything suspicious. I'm going to see about getting a warrant."
XXX
Eliot approached Judge Markway warily. He'd only dealt with him a few times in the past, and he hadn't quite figured out what made Markway tick. The judge was a pleasant enough man, but Eliot had no idea how he'd react to the request for a search warrant for a member of one of the richest families in the city.
As they approached the judge, Eliot wondered how to open up the discussion. He was still pondering it when Markway turned and his face lit up. Eliot hesitated until he realized the judge was beaming at Devereaux.
He should have known, really. She seemed to have that effect on everybody. Even he wasn't immune—the more time he spent with her, the more he liked her—but he'd be damned if he let her know.
"Sophie," the judge said, coming up to them.
"Hi, John." She gave him a smile so dazzling it was a wonder he didn't go blind. "It's good to see you again." She touched his arm. "How are you?"
"I can't complain. How about you? I haven't seen you since Marie's last charity thing."
"I'm doing well, and how is Marie? I heard she took quite a tumble."
"Yeah. She broke her arm, but the cast should be off in a couple of weeks."
"Give her my best, won't you?" she said warmly.
"I will." He seemed to suddenly remember that Eliot was there. Turning to him, Markway asked, "You said you needed to talk to me about a matter of some urgency, Detective?"
"Yes, sir. I need a search warrant."
"For Harrison Tisdale's home and office," Devereaux added. Her hand was still on Markway's arm.
"Harrison Tisdale? As in Jonathan Tisdale's son?"
"Yes," Eliot confirmed. "We have reason to believe he murdered three people, including his sister."
"Murder? The Tisdales?" He looked at Devereaux, who nodded solemnly.
"His father's dying, and he stands to inherit a sizable amount of money," she told him.
"What? I just saw him at a benefit."
"He's hiding it well. Make up."
"Are you sure about this?"
"Yeah," Eliot said, "but without the warrant, we can't prove it." His phone rang. "Excuse me, sir...Spencer."
"Hey." It was Hardison.
"What's going on?"
"Our boy's on the move."
"Damn. I was hoping we'd have more time. Thanks." When he hung up, Devereaux was looking at him expectantly. "He left work."
"Probably to destroy the evidence." She turned a pleading gaze on Markway. The judge blinked, and Eliot could see the moment he gave in.
"Are you sure you can tie him to the other victims?"
"Through a patient of his sister's that he's trying to frame. He did a pretty good job of it, but Detective Spencer saw through it."
Eliot's gaze snapped to her, surprised that she'd given him the credit.
Markway sighed. "It's days like this I wish I was back in Civil Division."
"Then we've got it?" Eliot clarified.
"Yes, Detective, you've go it."
"Thank you, sir."
"Thank you, John." Sophie squeezed his arm and gifted him with another smile.
XXX
They arrived at Tisdale's apartment just as two marked cars drove up. Jones was in front of the building talking to someone and looking uncharacteristically serious.
Eliot glanced at Devereaux to see her eyes shining with excitement. His brain told him that he should remind her how serious the situation was. The rest of him wanted to smile with her and share her giddy feeling. He did neither. Instead, he opened his car door and got out. She followed, and when Jones saw them, he hurried over.
"Well?" Eliot asked.
"Junior's tens of millions in debt."
He nodded, not surprised.
"He shouldn't have trouble paying it off," Devereaux commented, "not with getting both halfs of the family fortune."
"Hello, Ms. Devereaux."
"Hello, Ezekiel."
Since when was Devereaux on a first name basis with Jones?
"How's Cassie?"
"Angry with me at the moment."
He laughed. "You did get arrested."
"Focus," Eliot growled, and they both turned to look at him.
He studied Devereaux, who didn't look at all chastened. He thought about the fact that they were going to confront a dangerous criminal who was armed and had already killed three people, and he thought about the fact that she was the only one among them without a vest.
"Devereaux, can I talk to you for a minute?"
"All right."
He motioned her towards the car, where she'd left the passenger door open in her excitement.
"What is it?" she asked.
"I don't want you going in there."
"Don't be concerned. I'll stay out of the way."
"You don't have a vest. I don't want you in there at all."
"Please don't tell me you're going to make me stay in the car."
"Of course I am."
"But you made me stay in the car last time," she protested.
"No, I ordered you to stay in the car, but you didn't listen."
"So what makes you think I'll stay this time? Are you going to handcuff me to the car?" She sounded a bit petulant, but he refused to bend.
"I considered it. Am I going to have to?"
"You and your handcuffs. Is this some kind of foreplay with you?"
She was trying to distract him, but he refused to let her. "Promise me you'll stay in the car."
She sighed. "Eliot..."
"Promise me."
He put his hand on her shoulder. She looked into his face, meeting his gaze. "Okay."
"Okay, what?"
"I promise I'll stay in the car."
He believed her, which was a new feeling. "I know you think it's exciting, Sophie, but it's dangerous. I don't want you to get hurt. Do you understand?"
"I understand." She touched him, just a brief brush of fingers against his free arm and, suddenly, it was hard to breathe.
"Spencer?" Jones called behind him, and he hastily dropped his hand.
"Be careful," she said as he pulled away.
"Get in the car," was his gruff answer.
He waited until she did so before turning to join Jones and the uniforms.
XXX
Sophie sat in the car trying to ignore the urge to follow Detective Spencer and the others. She was determined to keep her promise, even if it killed her. Something in the way he'd looked at her made her want to keep her word, and she was hoping she'd get to explore what it was and its effects later.
Still, staying in the car was difficult. She could only imagine what was going on in there. Spencer would be leading the others up the stairs, and his face would be cold and intense. When they got to Tidsdale's door, he'd pound on it forcefully, shouting his name and reason for being there. She watched the building intently, wishing she could see through walls.
All was quiet for several minutes, and she bit her lip, wondering what was happening. She twined her fingers in her lap to keep them from reaching for the door handle.
From her vantage point, she could see both sides of the building, and she watched with surprise as a window opened and a male form popped out onto the fire escape. Sophie continued to watched in disbelief as the figure, carrying a clear bag full of paper, looked around nervously.
Harrison Tisdale.
Without thinking, she opened the car door as she watched him hurrying down the steps. No one else was around, and the day was so quiet she could hear Tisdale's feet on the metal stairs.
"Tisdale!" she cried, running forward.
He turned and looked at her as he reached the bottom.
"Spencer!" She yelled. "He's on the fire escape."
Tisdale's eyes practically burned into her, but she didn't stop running. She barely registered that he had a gun.
Detective Spencer's head appeared at the window. "Stop. Police. Don't move."
Tisdale's eyes went from Sophie to Spencer. He snarled before taking off down the alley. Spencer cursed under his breath and started climbing out the window.
Worried Tisdale would get away and hurt somebody else, Sophie kept chasing him.
"Get back here, Devereaux."
"He'll get away!"
Tidsale ducked behind a van, and Sophie followed, not sure what she'd do when she caught up to him. Suddenly, an arm was wrapping around her and pulling her against a slim body. The sour odour of sweat surrounded her, and a gun was pressed to her temple.
Sophie's breath caught and she froze.
"Not one word, lady," Tisdale whispered harshly. "I might as well go down for four as three."
Her heart pounded. She swallowed and tried to calm her breathing.
She saw Spencer peek around the side of the van. His eyes met hers, and she could see he was angry. If she lived through this, he'd probably kill her. The thought made her want to laugh, though it wasn't all that funny.
"Don't come any closer!" Tisdale held her in front of himself, blocking any fire from Spencer.
"Put the gun down, Tisdale."
"Listen to him, Harrison," Sophie said, forcing her voice to remain even.
"Shut up, or I will shoot you."
"You won't shoot me."
"Put the gun down," Spencer repeated. "There's no way out of this."
"Shut up! I'm trying to think." His arm tightened.
"You can't get away."
"I'm taking the writer lady, and I'm walking away. Shoot her, if you want to." He backed up, and Sophie had no choice but to follow.
"It will go easier for you if you cooperate," she told him reasonably.
"I told you to shut up!" The gun dug painfully into the side of her head.
"Let her go," Spencer demanded sternly.
"She's my insurance. You can't have her until I'm done with her."
Sophie made a face. "You're not my type."
"Shut up. Shut up. Shut up."
"Devereaux, you okay?"
"Could be better. And you, Detective?"
Tisdale growled.
"It's all right, Harrison," Sophie said soothingly. "I understand. After all, it couldn't have been easy when your father turned down your request for financial aid. He didn't understand how much you needed him."
"He didn't care. He didn't care about anything but her."
"It's hard to be the one your parents dismiss," Sophie agreed, thinking about her own relationship with her mother.
"Shut up," he said again, but this time it was subdued. He was listening to what she was saying.
"Is that why you killed her? You wanted your father to lose what was most important to him before he died as a punishment for not loving you?"
His arm loosened. "How did you..."
"Put down the gun, Harrison."
"What? No!"
"You don't want to kill me. You didn't want to kill anyone. You just hurt too much."
"This is bullshit," he said angrily. "We're going to..."
When he'd relaxed, Sophie had noticed something that had taken all of her fear away. Before he could get wound back up again, she kicked back, connecting with his knee. He let out a squeak and let go of her, so she threw her elbow back as hard as she could. Harrison grunted and dropped his gun, so she kicked it so hard it scuttled across the alley before she jumped away from him.
"Freeze!" Spencer demanded, pointing his gun.
Harrison lifted his hands in defeat as he gasped for breath. Spencer eyed him to make sure he wouldn't make any sudden moves before holstering his gun and taking out his handcuffs.
"Those self defense classes I took the girls to really paid off," Sophie said a little breathlessly.
"What the hell were you doing?" Spencer demanded as he cuffed Tisdale.
"I caught the bad guy."
"You could have been killed." His voice was angry and tight.
"The safety was on."
"What?"
"I noticed while he was holding me."
He looked at her and opened his mouth to speak. Nothing came out. He closed it and shook his head before turning to Tisdale and reading him his Rights.
Sophie thought any day she rendered Eliot Spencer speechless was a good day.
XXX
About an hour later, standing with him in front of her apartment building, Sophie felt both sad and elated. She'd really enjoyed her time with Detective Spencer, and solving a real crime had been exhilarating.
"So, this is it?" she asked softly.
"I guess so. You did a good job."
She had a feeling Spencer didn't use praise lightly, and she warmed under his words. "What will happen to Kyle?"
"He'll be set free."
"Will he get the help he needs?"
He shrugged. "Who knows? Kids like him tend to fall through the cracks."
Not this one, she told herself, deciding to make some calls as soon as she got inside. She wasn't Jonathan Tisdale wealthy, but she was well off enough that people took notice when she spoke.
"Thanks for bringing me home."
Amusement danced in his blue eyes. "I couldn't see making you walk."
"It would have been good for my figure," she teased.
He looked her up and down. "Your figure's fine."
"Was that a compliment? Two compliments in one conversation. I think you're starting to like me, Detective."
He waved this off. "I never said I didn't like you."
"It feels good, doesn't it?"
"What?" he asked, watching her.
"Taking down a bad guy, helping the dead rest a little easier."
"You care about the dead." It was a comment, not a question.
"It was Alison Tisdale's eyes."
He nodded in understanding.
"At least now I know she didn't die because of me. It was greed and pain, not my words." He was quiet, though he still watched her face. Unwilling to reveal any more of herself to his silent, steady presence, she said, "I should go in."
"Yeah."
"Will you come to my New York author reading?"
"Can I bring Jake?"
She laughed softly. "Sure."
"Great. See you around, Devereaux. You're okay."
"Thank you, Detective." Before she could change her mind, she moved in closer and kissed his cheek. His skin was warm, and his stubble tickled her lips. His solid body smelled amazing, and she was tempted to linger. She closed her eyes briefly, imprinting the smell and the feel and the taste of him into her mind. She wanted to remember him.
As she turned away, he caught her gently, his hand on her arm. His face was serious, but his eyes were smiling as he pulled her back towards him. In surprise, she let him and was treated to a quick, soft kiss on the lips. Her body tingled and her stomach broke out in butterflies. She was still trying to process what was happening when it ended.
Detective Spencer pulled from her, and a small, mischievous smile tugged at the corner of his mouth.
He winked and said, "That's for luck."
Sophie's fingers went to her lips as he rounded the car and got inside. He glanced at her once before he pulled away, and she raised her hand to say good bye. He nodded and waved back.
When he was gone, Sophie had a terrible feeling that she had just lost something, something she hadn't even known she'd had.
She frowned, hugging herself. Suddenly, someone started speaking in her mind. The words were describing Detective Spencer, and Sophie's fingers started to twitch.
"Oh," she said, forgetting everything but the voice, and hurried into the building.
XXX
"This is good," Jake said, taking a bite of the pasta Eliot had made to celebrate closing the Devereaux case. Cooking was his way of relaxing, and he enjoyed sharing his passion for it with his brother.
"Thanks. I decided to throw in some celery."
"It works." He took another bite, chewed, and swallowed before adding, "So, you closed the case?"
"Yeah. It was the brother. Devereaux called it."
"She's smart," he commented.
"She talked the gun right out of his hand."
"You sound impressed."
"She did a good job for an amateur."
"And a compliment."
Eliot snorted. "Don't read too much into it."
"Good."
"Good what?" Eliot studied Jake's face.
"I'm thinking about asking her out."
Eliot was momentarily stunned. "You want to go out with her?"
He shrugged. "I like her."
"I thought you had a crush on Baird."
Jake pointed his fork at him. "Shut up."
"Listen, buddy, the writer is not for you."
"Why not?"
Eliot couldn't answer that. He just knew that thoughts of his brother with Devereaux turned his stomach to lead. "She's just not. Now, can we talk about something else?"
XXX
Parker wandered out of the living room where Cassie and Detective Jones were watching TV. She'd decided that she mostly liked him, but she wished he wasn't taking up so much of Cassie's time. Still, it was nice that he didn't mind if Parker joined them sometimes.
As she walked down the hallway towards their small library, she heard the clacking of keys coming from Sophie's office. She stopped and concentrated, just to make sure. When she continued to hear the noise, she grinned and opened the door, even though she was never supposed to disturb Sophie when she was writing.
"Sophie!" she said excitedly.
Sophie was sitting at her desk in front of her laptop, but she looked up when Parker came in.
"You're writing!"
"I'm writing," she confirmed.
"What are you writing? Can I come in?"
"Yes. I could use a break."
Parker went in and shut the door, settling down on the couch. "So, tell me."
"It's about a police detective. He's a little gruff and rough around the edges, but he cares about the dead."
"Like Detective Spencer?" Parker didn't know how she felt about that. She still blamed him for being mean to Sophie and then arresting her.
"Yes, like him. I watched him a lot this week, and he's good, Parker. Really good."
"But you were the one who figured it out."
"I could very well have been wrong."
"I guess."
"I like the way he thinks."
"You like him," she accused, folding her arms.
"You already knew that."
"No, I mean you really like him."
Sophie thought about that. "Maybe you're right. He'll make a fascinating character."
"If you say so."
"Just wait until you read this one. It may be my best one yet."
"Well, at least they'll stop sending Flynn over here to beat the pages out of you."
"Parker!"
"He doesn't really beat you," Parker admitted.
"If you're not going to be helpful, then shoo."
"Okay." She got to her feet, not in the least insulted. "I'm going to order in. Is Chinese all right?"
"More than all right. Thanks."
XXX
Todd Stevens was in his living room reading a Raymond Chandler novel when his doorbell rang. He looked at the very expensive clock on his mantle and frowned. It was after ten o'clock. What kind of idiot went to visit another without calling after ten o'clock at night?
With a sigh, he put aside his book and went to look out the peephole. There was a man on the other side. He was holding a package and a clipboard, and he looked bored. There was a knit cap pulled low over his ears, and his face was covered by at least a day's worth of stubble. He was dressed casually in jeans and a light jacket. Todd considered ignoring him, but curiosity about the package had him opening the door.
"Todd Stevens?" the guy asked pleasantly.
"Yes."
Todd reached out his hands, expecting the man to pass him the clipboard. Instead, the courier dropped both the clipboard and the package to the step. One clattered and the other clunked against the concrete.
Todd's eyes widened in surprise, and he was completely unprepared for the heavy punch to his stomach. The air all escaped him in a rush, and he choked and doubled over. As he stood there gasping for breath, the man snarled at him and bent to pick up the items he'd dropped.
It was awhile before Todd could straighten, and when he finally did, his assailant was long gone.
XXX
Eliot was thinking how quiet it was as he walked up to his desk and hung his jacket over the back of the chair. There was no writer chattering, distracting him, or getting in the way. It was nice, but he almost missed her. The feel of her lips was still imprinted on his, and when he'd walked by a bakery that morning, he'd closed his eyes and thought of her.
"Hey, Spencer," Hardison said, "Cap'n wants to see you."
"Thanks."
He went over and knocked on the door.
"Come in," Ford answered.
When Eliot opened the door, he was surprised to see the object of his thoughts standing there. She smiled softly when she saw him, and he noticed she was dressed in sensible jeans and a red shirt.
"Hello," he said.
"Hi."
"You wanted to see me, sir?" he said to Ford, trying to ignore Devereaux.
"The mayor just called, and I think you'll find what he had to say interesting."
"The mayor, sir?"
"Apparently, you have a fan." He indicated Devereaux.
"I want to write about you," she told him, coming close enough for her scent to tease him.
"What?"
"A whole series of novels about a character based on you."
"Me? Why me?"
"Because I like you," she said this warmly, and he felt the warmth inside of his body.
"She wants to do research."
Eliot's gaze went back to him. "Research on what?"
"You, of course," Devereaux answered.
He looked at Ford helplessly. "Is she saying what I think she's saying?"
"I'm afraid so. Both the Mayor and the Commissioner have approved this."
"But she's a civilian, sir."
"A civilian who helped solve this case."
Eliot couldn't argue with that. "So, I have no choice."
"Not really."
He sighed. "For how long?"
"That's up to her."
His gaze snapped to Devereaux to find her smiling in a decidedly wicked way.
"Come on, Eliot," she said, taking his arm and making his pulse jump. "It'll be fun."