21st Birthday by Patterson, James (ebook reader screen .TXT) 📕

to look at Lucas Burke but he stayed focused on the counsel table.

Gardner said, “You said just now that you contacted the police three or four times to report that Mr. Burke had abused your daughter.”

“Yes, I did.”

“Was he ever arrested?”

“No. Tara did not press charges. She told them that she had hurt herself.”

“Did Tara ever complain to you about abuse?”

“She didn’t have to. I saw the bruises. Her eyes were red from crying.”

“So, that would be ‘no.’ No, she didn’t tell you that Lucas abused her.”

“She made excuses for him.”

Gardner said, “I see. Some people take pictures of their injuries from spousal abuse and they tell their friends.”

Yuki said, “Objection, Your Honor. Leading the witness.”

“Let me rephrase,” said Gardner. “Is there any proof of this abuse?”

“Is her murder proof, Mr. Gardner? What about Lorrie’s death? Is that proof?”

“It’s proof they were murdered, Ms. Wyatt. Not that Lucas Burke murdered them. Thank you. I have nothing further. Again, sorry for your loss.”

Kathleen shouted after Gardner, “A mother knows things. I know he put the baby in the closet if she was crying —”

Gardner said, “I’m done with this witness, Your Honor.”

“Lucas. Look at me, you,” Kathleen shouted across the room to Burke. “You killed them. Tell me why. Why did you do it?”

The judge signaled to the court officers, who were already on their way to the witness box.

“I don’t need an escort, Your Honor,” Kathleen said to the judge. She was on her feet, walking past Burke when the guards each took one of her elbows and steered her toward the doors.

“You’re not getting away with this,” Kathleen shouted over her shoulder as she was marched to the door.

Yuki couldn’t tell how the jury felt about Kathleen’s outburst. Would they see her as a maniac, or as a woman inside the same room with the man who had chopped out her heart and left her bleeding at the side of the road?

CHAPTER 87

I WORE A NYLON stocking cap to flatten my hair, and Sonia Alvarez pulled a brown, chin-length wig over my scalp.

“Owwwww,” I said. “Take it easy.”

“Sor-ry. Now, we’re done. What do you think?”

“Who is that girl in the mirror there?”

“That’s the idea, right?”

The doorbell on the suite rang.

I went to the door and looked through the peephole. I was thinking maybe it was Berney, but it was Joe.

I opened the door, saying “My God, Joe. What’s wrong?”

He said, “Hell of a greeting, uh, Blondie.”

“Is everything okay? What are you doing here?” I searched his face as I let him into the suite. I didn’t see tragedy in his eyes. Didn’t see that something had happened to Julie. He smiled.

“Figured I’d have dinner with you and Berney. I’m flying home later.”

Alvarez said, “Hello, Joe? I’m Sonia Alvarez. I’ve been partnering with Conklin,” she said. “Vegas is my native land.”

Joe shook her hand, both saying “Nice to meet you.” And to me he said, “I brought you a change of clothes, and Julie sent you a toy and a book.”

I didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. Nothing was wrong. Joe was wonderful and my kiddo had sent me a toy.

“Your friend is meeting us at eight,” Alvarez said.

“My friend’s not expecting you,” Joe said to her. “I’ll give him a heads-up.”

“We’ve got time to kill. Anyone feel like having a late lunch? I recommend Lago, here in the hotel.”

Soon we were seated at a table at Lago, an elegant “small plate” restaurant with a cinematic view of the lake beyond the iconic Bellagio fountain. Someone in accounting was going to have a stroke when they saw our expenses.

Joe and Sonia were getting along like college friends at their twenty-fifth reunion, only it was more that they’d both worked undercover. I divided my attention between watching my phone for a text from Berney and munching bread. Which was delicious.

Joe was the foody at the table, and he was going over the menu as our proxy when the chair next to me was pulled out and Joe introduced Alvarez to “my old friend who goes by the name Berney.”

Berney reached across the table, shook hands with Alvarez. The waiter came over and Berney ordered Scotch on the rocks. He looked cheerful.

“The eagle has landed,” he said.

“Evan Burke?” Alvarez asked.

“I meant me. Just kidding. Burke is close by and I am tracking him via GPS.” Berney took his cell phone out of his jacket pocket and waggled it. “I can feed information to you. But you cannot mention me or the agency. That’s the deal. If you burn me, I can’t help you now or ever. My career will be over.”

Alvarez and I crossed our hearts, exchanged numbers with Berney, and then chose Joe’s recommendations: a yummy, hot sea-food salad for me, a mini Margherita pizza for Alvarez. Joe went for the shrimp-stuffed squid, and Berney was all in for grilled lamb chops. Joe and I shared a few bites, and when the plates were cleared I ordered a platter of mixed sweets for the table.

And coffee, of course.

Berney said, “So, here’s how it goes. I’m the cheese in the trap and the spring is set. After you’re done with him, we’re going to take him off your hands.”

Until that moment, I’d been stuck between fear of Evan Burke and excitement. It would be tremendous to bring him in. Quicksilver, the Ghost of Catalina, an unexposed criminal who’d aimed his AK at Conklin and me from his narrow front porch — and then vanished.

The fear had burned off, leaving only the thrill of cuffing the bastard and interrogating him back at the Hall.

I had a subpoena in my pocket and many questions to ask the man in the moon.

CHAPTER 88

CINDY WAS IN HER SEAT in the back row of the courtroom, flipping to a clean page in her notebook when Kathleen Wyatt freaked out.

Guards had