The Last Move
Sitting in silence, she ate as she checked her phone for any updates from Agent Nevada. No new texts. Not good. Drexler remained on the loose. With an altered appearance, he might easily slip through the cracks. Nevada had theorized he was headed toward Texas, but Drexler could be in Arizona and over the Mexican border or have turned north to make his way to Canada. Once out of the country, he could vanish into the wind.
She curled her fingers around her bracelet. She traced the W and the faded paint. She’d promised Sara he would not escape. And she never reneged on a promise.
She rinsed off her plate and set it in the sink, then took one last swig of coffee before pouring the remains down the drain. Using paper from her notebook, she wrote a note to her mother. She took extra care with her handwriting, wanting her mother to see without realizing it that she had it all under control. Nothing was further from the truth. But she was good at pretending.
She checked her watch. There was time to drive by Rebecca Kendrick’s place of employment and see if there was anything the officers had missed before Mazur arrived. Chances were there wasn’t, but she couldn’t breathe in this house. Couldn’t think.
As she closed the front door behind her, a dark SUV pulled up in front of the house. She hesitated, reaching for the gun clipped to her waistband.
When the man rose to his full six foot four inches and stepped out of the shadows, she recognized Mazur. He locked his car with his key fob and moved toward her. He was dressed in khakis, a white shirt, and dark tie.
“What are you doing here?” she asked.
“Your brother, Mitchell, called me.”
“Why?”
“He said you might get up early and do something stupid like go for a run.” His gaze swept over her. “Or maybe return to a crime scene alone.”
“How does Mitchell know about you?”
Mazur shook his head. “So where were you headed?”
“I planned to visit Rebecca Kendrick’s place of employment again but expected to return in time for the autopsy.”
He moved toward her a step.
“We can go together.”
Her 9 mm rested securely on her hip. “I’ve no intention of getting myself killed.”
He jangled keys in his hand. “No one ever does. My vehicle awaits.”
“You make me sound reckless,” she said, falling in step beside him.
“Call ’em like I see ’em.”
“I’m not reckless. But I’m not afraid to take calculated risks.”
The front door opened, and the porch light clicked on. Her mother opened the screen door, and huddling in a blue bathrobe and worn Uggs, asked, “Did you think you could sneak out, Katie?”
“I was coming back, Mom.”
Her mother studied Mazur. “Looks like Mitchell rallied the troops.”
The tone of her mother’s voice caught her attention. And then she understood Mitchell’s early-morning call to Mazur. “Did you call Mitchell?”
“I texted him,” her mother said. “I heard the phone ring, and then I heard you start pacing. I knew something was wrong.”
Aware that Mazur was watching, Kate walked toward the porch. Mazur followed. She glanced up to warn him to stay back, but he shook his head.
He extended his hand toward her mother and introduced himself. “Detective Theo Mazur, ma’am.”
“Sylvia Hayden,” she said, studying Mazur. “You’re my daughter’s San Antonio police partner, right?”
He flashed a grin that was charming. “We’re working together on this case.”
A smile teased her lips. “You don’t sound like you’re from Texas, Detective Mazur.”
“Chicago, ma’am. Been here six months.”
“How do you like it?”
“Mostly hot.”
Her mother laughed. “Chicago’s too cold for me.”
Mazur winked. “The cold builds character.”
“I say the same about the heat.” Her mother tucked a lock of hair behind her ear.
If Kate didn’t know her mother well, she’d say she was flirting. She wasn’t sure if she was mortified or amused. “We have to go, Mom.”
As Kate kissed her mother and moved to turn, her mother captured her hand and met Mazur’s amused gaze. “Take care of Katie.”
The grin dimmed. “Yes, ma’am. I’ve a daughter of my own. I know what worry feels like.”
Kate could have pointed out she’d been an FBI agent for seven years and was quite capable. Although her colleagues and family would never believe it, she understood all too well the significance of emotions and their overwhelming effect on logic.
Kate kissed her mom again on the cheek and pulled her hand free. “Go see Aunt Lydia.”
“I’ll be on the road by nine.” She pressed a key in Kate’s hand. “I had the locks replaced a few months ago, so you’ll need this. You’re always welcome. Come and go as you like.”
“Thank you.” She glanced at the shiny brass key. “Why’d you have the locks changed?”
“A few break-ins in the neighborhood. Time to upgrade.”
“Was your house broken into?”
“The back door was ajar one afternoon. I couldn’t remember if I locked it or not. Nothing was missing or disturbed, but better safe than sorry.”
Kate hugged her mother. “Be careful.”
“And the same to you.”
Kate left her mother standing on the steps of her family home, remembering that when she’d left for her freshman year of college, she’d felt such a sense of relief, she hadn’t glanced back.
This time she did look back and nodded to her mother, who waved and smiled just as she had done a million times when Kate had been young and their family was still whole.
The heavy weight of her mother’s gaze had her sliding into the front seat of Mazur’s SUV. She settled her backpack by her feet and pulled on her seat belt. Mazur settled behind the wheel.
“Your mother is nice,” Mazur said.
“Most people aren’t sure I have a mother. Some assume I was spawned.”
He laughed. “It did cross my mind.”
His rich, deep laughter lifted some of her dark mood. She appreciated his directness. No hidden agendas with Mazur from what she could tell. A straight shooter.
As he drove, he studied the neighborhood filled with one-story stucco homes, many landscaped with desert plants and pale rocks. “You grew up in this neighborhood, didn’t you?”
“We moved here when I was fourteen. We started off in Austin until my father took the job with the local district attorney’s office.”
“How did you handle the move?”
“It wasn’t easy at first, but then you find a friend and it gets better.”
“I hope the same for Alyssa. Uprooting and coming here has been hard for me, but I figure it’s worse for Alyssa.”
“Kids are more resilient than adults.”
“In Chicago, I lived a few blocks from where I grew up. Even to this day the old-timers like to share stories of my escapades as a young man.”
She angled her head toward him. “You were a troublemaker?”
“The Mazur brothers were legendary.”
As an investigator, making small talk could be critical when dealing with a suspect. Get them to open up about the small things and then the big might follow. She sensed Mazur was doing this to her. “What was it like living around so much family?”