Page 41 of Ice Cold Liar (Ice Breaker Cold Case #14)

Chapter Twenty-Two

They’d separated him from Naomi.

Fury heaved inside of Eb. He glared at the one-way mirror on the police station’s dingy wall.

Back to this same freaking spot. When they’d called nine-one-one, the safe house had been swarmed.

Again. He’d eventually wound up at the station.

So had Hunter. And Naomi. And Henry, of course.

But at least Eb had been able to arrive under his own steam.

He’d driven his Impala to the station, with Naomi and Henry tucked in his ride. A cop car had tailed him.

Hunter had been delivered in the back of a patrol car.

The detective had been rushed away in an ambulance. Though there had been no need for the rush. Clark Anderson had been dead even as the EMTs had worked feverishly on his body. Hunter and Eb had tried to help him, too.

There is no helping the dead.

Eb stared into that one-way glass. After arriving at the station, the cops had immediately separated him and Naomi.

Why? They’d already talked plenty and if they had wanted to lie and collude, they would have already gotten their stories straight on the drive over.

A separation now was just a pain in his ass.

“I’m really getting pissed off,” he announced deliberately.

“A local cop just tried to kill me. I don’t appreciate being treated like the bad guy.

So how about you get your ass in here to?—”

The door swung open. His head turned slowly toward it.

A local cop didn’t greet him. Madeline filled the doorway. Dark shadows lined her eyes. Her skin seemed too pale, and her clothes were wrinkled. And, yep, he was pretty sure that was blood on her.

“Sorry,” she said, voice brisk. “Busy day. Night. Whatever. Been dealing with a few things. Like…you know, a man trying to kill me in the hospital.” She marched to the table.

Hooked a chair leg with her foot, dragged the chair back, and flopped down.

Hard. “I got the pleasure of dealing with all that red tape, and as I’m explaining what happened to my very displeased superiors, I receive word that you killed a local cop. ”

She’d gotten the wrong word. “I didn’t fire the gun.”

“Right. Sorry.” She rubbed her forehead. “This stupid headache I have will not stop. Let me try again here. Your friend Hunter killed the cop.” Her cheeks puffed up before she exhaled. “Why was the cop out there? Did you call him?”

“What? No.” Eb shook his head. “Clark Anderson said you sent him. That Brock had confessed all to you. That Brock attacked you, and the perp died.”

“True. He confessed. He attacked.” She looked down. “I have his blood on me.” Stilted. “It’s on me.” She kept looking at the blood.

The moments ticked past. Finally, Eb said, “I want to see Naomi.”

Her head slowly lifted. Madeline blinked, as if waking from a fog. “I’m not usually in the field. I sit in my office. I plan the missions. Like chess, you know?”

Hell. Was his boss—former boss—in shock? Her pupils were pinpricks. Her tone way off. He was also pretty sure her fingers were quivering. “Madeline, are you okay?”

She blinked. Twice. “Of course.” Her shoulders straightened.

“He attacked me. I defended myself. I also got the confession. Like I said, I’ve been busy.

” She licked her lips. “Brock set the fire at Naomi’s.

He took the bat from her truck bed, and he killed Ivan.

He…he’d been setting a lot of fires for Ivan in this town.

No one crossed Ivan and got away scot-free.

” She swallowed. “I didn’t send the detective to you. ”

He waited.

Silence filled the room. More moments ticked slowly past.

“There were a lot of fires,” she repeated.

“Someone else should have noticed that pattern. I noticed it after just minimal digging. People died in some of those fires. Homicides. But…no investigations. No links discovered. That’s just piss-poor police work.

Or else it was deliberate…as in, a dirty cop.

” Her head inclined. “Instead of figuring that everyone in the department was inept, my money was on a cop being involved and deliberately suppressing any investigations into the arsons and deaths.”

“And I’m betting Clark Anderson was that cop.” Adrenaline fueled his blood. I want to see Naomi. “When Clark showed up—you know, before he tried to kill me and Naomi—the detective said he was following your orders.”

Another blink. A slow one. “The man was a liar.”

“You didn’t send him to the safe house.” Just so they were clear.

“Why would I have done that? I was at the hospital. Brock attacked me.” Her gaze fell to her blood-stained clothes once again. Not a lot of blood. Flecks. “But I have the confession. I got the confession. For Hudson’s murder. For Ivan’s. I did my job.”

“ Madeline. ”

A shudder shook her. Her chin lifted. “Yes?”

He’d never seen her like this. He had the feeling his former boss was hanging on by a thread. “I think when you get your team to dig, you’re going to see that Detective Clark Anderson was tangled up with Ivan. Clark was on the take. That’s a conclusion you and I have both reached.”

A slow nod.

But he continued, “I think that Ivan and Hudson and Clark were all working together. Hudson was not some good guy in this story. He hurt Naomi. He took away her seizure meds and replaced them with something else. Hudson hurt her. She had to fight him in order to survive on her wedding night.”

Her breath came faster.

“I thought he was my friend,” Eb added, voice grim. “But I didn’t know him at all.”

“Sometimes, we don’t really know anyone.

” She tucked a lock of hair behind her left ear.

“But to me, it only makes sense for the detective to go after Naomi if he believed she knew something that could implicate him. Otherwise, why not just leave her at the safe house? Why risk pulling a gun with you right there?”

Eb could only shake his head. He didn’t get what factor had pushed Clark into taking such a drastic step. “Desperate people do desperate things.” So what had made the detective desperate? What had finally made him decide he had to kill Naomi?

“What does Naomi know?” Madeline asked him.

Again, Eb shook his head.

“Come on, Eb.” She reached out and touched his hand. “You seduced her. You gained her trust. Naomi must have told you every secret that she possessed. Did she say something that would make Clark think she had to die?”

His gaze cut to the one-way mirror.

“She’s not behind the glass.” Madeline sounded tired. “She’s down the hallway, with Colson Reid. He’s keeping an eye on her. At this point, I don’t know if there are other dirty cops in the department or not, but giving her a guard seemed like a good plan.”

His focus shifted back to Madeline.

“What else does Naomi know?” she asked again. She seemed so weary. The faint lines near her mouth cut deeper. Lines he had never seen before. “You told me that Hudson took away her seizure medicine. That he hurt her on her wedding night. That’s intel I didn’t have until now. Tell me more.”

“She stabbed him twice on their wedding night.”

Madeline leaned forward.

“Naomi did not kill him. She got away. Henry dragged her to safety. When Naomi came back to the guesthouse…”

“Yes? What did she see when she came back?”

“Hudson was dead. Naomi never saw the killer.”

Madeline didn’t move.

Eb raked a hand over his face. “But you said Brock confessed, so she didn’t have to see him, did she? We know the identity of Hudson’s killer now.”

Her shoulders slumped a bit. “No, she didn’t have to see him. We have the evidence that we need. Hudson’s murder investigation will be closed. And as far as Detective Clark Anderson…well, I think the investigation into the corruption in this department may just be starting.”

“If Hunter hadn’t fired his weapon at the detective, I’d be dead now.”

Her lips thinned. “The detective should never have gone after you. No one hurts my agents.”

“I’m not an agent any longer.”

One eyebrow lifted. “That debt you owe isn’t quite paid in full. And once Naomi goes back to her old life in Vegas, I think you’ll find that you want to keep busy.” She rose. Stretched a little. “You’ll know where to find me then.”

He rose, too. “So can I leave this damn room? Because when I opened the door before, two uniformed cops told me to stay put.” Fighting them had been tempting, but, in light of what had already gone down that day, probably not the best plan.

“A detective is dead. Try playing nicely for a bit while I straighten things out, will you? Dirty or clean, Clark was still one of their own. We need to make sure we’re handling everything here just right.

No sense in making unnecessary enemies.” She rubbed her forehead once more.

“Damn headache.” Madeline turned away. “I’ll go check on Naomi.

And Hunter. Just try to not attack anyone while I’m gone, would you?

I’d really appreciate that.” She made her way to the door.

“Who was the serial killer?”

Her hand froze mid-air as she reached for the doorknob. “Excuse me?” Madeline didn’t look back.

“The serial killer. Memphis thought it was Hudson. You said Memphis had it all wrong. But you told me that Hudson had stopped the real perp. Who was it? Was the killer Hudson’s father?”

She turned her head. Just a few inches. Met his gaze. “Yes.”

To be certain he had this right, Eb said, “Hudson’s dad was responsible for the missing girls when Hudson was growing up.

And responsible for Hudson’s mother’s death.

” Eb paused. “But what about the women who died while Hudson was an agent?” A deliberate question.

He wanted to watch every moment of her reaction.

“What about the women Memphis Camden believed had been murdered when Hudson was on international missions?”

She did not break eye contact. “What do you think happened to them?”

“I think they were ordered hits.”