Brody Law: The Bridge / The District / The Wharf / The Hill

“Montana. Is it so obvious I’m not from the city?”

It was to him. She lacked that brittle edge so many urbanites had. But far be it from him to stoke the image she had of herself as the country bumpkin in the big, bad city.

He shrugged. “Not at all. I think you mentioned living here for just a year.”

Nodding, she relaxed her shoulders and slumped against the back of the chair.

Sean picked up the receiver of his phone and punched the button for one of the interrogation rooms. Tony Davros, the sketch artist, picked up. “You’re already there. You must be ready for the witness.”

Sean pushed back his chair as he stood up, dropping the receiver back in the cradle. “Let’s see what you can give us on this guy.”

Elise followed him to the interrogation room, her head cranking from side to side as they waded through ringing phones, shouts across the room and people crisscrossing the space with papers or files clutched in their hands.

She wrinkled her nose. “It’s noisier than a kindergarten classroom in here.”

“Probably about the same level of maturity, too.” He pushed open the door to the interrogation room and ushered her inside.

Davros stood up and extended his hand. “I’m Tony Davros, Ms. Duran. Wish we were meeting under happier circumstances.”

Sean raised one eyebrow in Davros’s direction. That’s the most words he’d heard from the artist’s mouth in almost two years. Davros had even pulled out a chair for Elise.

First Jacoby and now the sketch artist. He got it. Elise’s fresh-faced, angelic appearance spurred men on to chivalrous deeds, prompting them to pull out chairs and hand over jackets. Even the typically surly Davros wasn’t immune.

“Me, too.” She shook Davros’s hand and dropped onto the wooden chair. “I’m afraid the man was wearing a disguise—beard, wig, glasses, even a phony accent.”

“That’s not uncommon.” Davros swept his palm across a piece of sketch paper and caressed his pencil. “We’ll start with the shape of his face—what you could see of it.”

The two of them went back and forth for several minutes, the artist coaxing and praising as his pencil moved swiftly across the page in front of him.

Shoving his hands in his pockets, Sean sauntered to where Davros sat hunched over his sketch pad, the tip of his tongue lodged in the corner of his mouth as he further defined the nose of the suspect.

Sean squinted at the face. Would someone be able to recognize him without the beard and moustache? Davros’s job entailed drawing another picture without the facial hair and glasses, perhaps with shorter hair.

“That’s close to what I remember.” Elise tossed her ponytail over her shoulder as she leaned over the drawing.

A sharp rap at the door interrupted them, and before Sean could even offer an invitation, it swung open and banged against the wall.

Sergeant Curtis from homicide, his eyes bugging out, thrust his head into the room. “We just got a call from patrol about a dead body, and I think you’re going to want to head out there, Brody.”

Sean’s heart slammed against his rib cage. “And why is that?”

“It’s the girl in the picture.”

Chapter Five

The blood rushed to Elise’s head and she gripped the edge of the table as the room spun. She had a picture of a dead woman on her phone.

He’d killed her. He abducted her, took her picture and murdered her. And he sent that picture to her.

“How do you know it’s the same person?” Detective Brody had straightened up to his full height and his body seemed coiled for action. The waves of his tension reverberated off the walls of the small room.

The cop who’d delivered the news gripped the doorknob. “As soon as you forwarded the picture to us, we sent it out to patrol. When the unit discovered the body, they checked the picture. It’s a match.”

“Do you have any details, Curtis? Cause of death?”

“Not yet, but she didn’t drown even though the fishermen found the body at the edge of the bay.”

“The bay? Her body was found in the bay?” Detective Brody shot Elise a quick glance.

“Not in the bay, at the edge. Right over that small incline that borders the parking lot for the Golden Gate. That’s why we know she didn’t drown unless it was recent.” His eyes shifted between Elise and the sketch artist, and he cleared his throat. “No bloating.”

Elise covered her mouth and clenched her teeth.

Detective Brody stepped in front of her as if to shield her from the other detective’s words and the image they’d already created in her head.

“We’ll discuss the rest of this on the way.”

Sergeant Curtis dipped his head. “Sorry, Ms. Duran. I’ll ride with you, Brody.”

“Are you going to be okay?” Detective Brody made a half turn toward her.

“I’m fine.” Elise held up her hands. “I’m going straight to my friend’s house after this.”

“How will I reach you? We have to keep your phone.”

“I should hope so.” She shivered and rubbed her arms. “I’ll pick up another phone today and contact you with the new number.”

“Make sure you do. And Elise—” he pinned her with his dark gaze “—don’t go back to your house.”

She drew a cross over her heart. “I promise.”

And that’s the only thing she’d promise him right now.

Fifteen minutes later Elise sat in her car, her hands clutching the steering wheel. She could do this. She needed to know more, had a right to know more.

She rolled out of the parking garage and hung a left. She knew better than to follow Detective Brody’s car. The guy seemed to be on high alert at all times. He’d notice one small hybrid following him to a crime scene.

Besides, she already knew the way. Hadn’t her life almost ended in the exact same spot?

When she pulled into the parking lot for the bridge, she didn’t have to worry about standing out. The tourist season was in high gear, and a trip to the Golden Gate Bridge was high on everyone’s list.

A crowd of people had already formed at the edge of the lot where it led down to the gravel by the water. She stumbled from her car, and a brisk breeze cut her to the bone. She fished a sweater out of her backseat and put it on over her bulky cable knit. You could never have too many layers in San Francisco.

She scrambled from the car and tugged the sweater around her tighter, unrolling the sleeves so they hung over her hands. She shuffled up to the fringes of the crowd.

“What happened?” Elise stood on her tiptoes, not knowing what she hoped she would or wouldn’t see.

A man looked over his shoulder. “There’s a dead body down there.”

The woman standing to her right clicked her tongue. “Is it a jumper?”

That’s what the city workers had thought of her. Is that what this killer wanted everyone to believe? No. He wanted to shout his deeds from the rooftops. He wanted the distinction of impressing everyone with his cleverness or he never would’ve left that note for Brody.

The tall man in front of her snorted. “That’s not a jumper this close to the shore. The current’s too fast out there.”

Elise ducked and shimmied between two of the curious onlookers. She zeroed in on Detective Brody’s unmistakable form, his arm raised as if directing traffic.

Someone had covered the body with a sheet, securing the four corners against the wind that snatched at its edges. Frustrated in its efforts to pluck the sheet from the dead body, the wind found another outlet, puffing up the sheet so that it looked like a sail at full speed ahead.

But that girl wasn’t going anywhere—ever.

Elise didn’t know what she’d hoped to discover out here, but as soon as the other detective had burst into the interrogation room, she knew she had to see the crime scene for herself.

Had the killer intended this little patch of desolate shore as her final resting place? She turned her face to the right and gazed at the beach a short distance away where she’d scrambled into the water to save her life.

Had he killed this woman here or was this just his dumping ground?

She asked no one in particular. “Wh-who found her?”

The man with the broad shoulders turned sharply, bumping Elise’s arm. “It’s a woman? Who told you it was a woman?”

Elise grabbed the ponytail that whipped across her face. “Oh! I don’t know. I guess I just assumed...”

The woman beside her grunted, “It’s a woman. Count on it. Unless it’s some drug hit or something. The cowards always go after the women.”

The wail of a siren drew closer, causing the clutch of people to shift and sway.

Would they take her away now? Away from the prying eyes of this nosy group of people?

Elise felt protective toward the woman, and maybe that protectiveness sprang from guilt. Had this woman taken her place?

Detective Brody had pointed out that the killer could’ve taken that picture at any time. He was right. Chances are the killer hadn’t found another victim after two in the morning when Elise had escaped.

Sergeant Curtis crunched across the gravel and faced the crowd. “Did anyone else see anything out here?”

Elise dropped her head and pulled the sweater up to her chin, not that he’d notice her after their brief encounter in the interrogation room.

People murmured and mumbled, but nobody stepped forward with any information.

Undeterred, Sergeant Curtis continued. “If anyone was here earlier, if anyone was taking any pictures, give us a call.”

A few people began peeling away from the group as the cops continued to scour the ground. A coroner’s van had pulled up on the gravel, but still nobody made a move to retrieve the body.

They might be here all afternoon.

Elise spun away from the scene, her stomach rolling. Her presence here had served no purpose except to confirm how close her own brush with death had occurred to an actual death.

She reached into her purse for her cell phone before she remembered that her phone was in the possession of the SFPD with a picture of the dead woman below on it.

She meant what she told Brody. She wouldn’t return to her house, not yet, especially with Oscar still out of town.

She tapped the arm of the woman next to her. “Can I borrow your phone for a minute? It’s a local call.”

“Sure.” She dipped into the pocket of her sweatpants and pulled out a smartphone.

Elise tapped in Courtney’s phone number.

“Hello?” Courtney’s voice, low and seductive, purred over the line.

“Court? It’s Elise.”

“Elise?” The dulcet tones turned to a squeak. “Where are you calling from? I thought for sure you were Derrick from last night when I saw the unknown number.”

“You wouldn’t believe me if I told you.”

“Are you okay? I texted you earlier but you didn’t respond.”

Elise took several steps away from the rubbernecking crowd, out of everyone’s hearing. “All hell broke loose when I left you at the club last night.”

Her friend paused for two beats. “Tell me you’re okay right now before I have a full-fledged panic attack.”

“I’m okay.”

Courtney blew out a noisy sigh. “You scared me. What do you mean all hell broke loose? Where are you and whose phone are you using?”

“After I left the club last night—” Elise closed her eyes and squeezed the phone “—I was attacked.”

“Attacked? What are you talking about?”

Her friend’s voice screeched over the phone and Elise pulled it away from her ear.

“Someone pretended to need help and when I went to help him, he knocked me on the head and stuffed me into his trunk.”

Courtney’s breath rasped over the phone. “Elise, you’re joking. Tell me you’re joking.”

“I’m not joking, Courtney. I got away. I’m okay.”

“How can you be okay after something like that? Where are you?” She sucked in a breath. “Oh, God, you’re not in the hospital, are you?”

“Not anymore.”

“Not anymore? Where are you? I’m coming to get you.”

Elise switched the phone to her other hand and wiped her clammy palm against the seat of her jeans. “I was hoping you’d say that. There’s more to the story.”

A lot more to the story. She caught sight of Detective Brody’s head as he clambered onto a rock, his tie dancing over his shoulder in the breeze.

“I don’t need a ride, but I was hoping I could crash at your place for a night or two. Your brother’s out of town again, and I don’t feel like staying in the house alone.”

“Absolutely. Do you have your car?”

“I do. Are you home now? I’ll drive over.”

“I’m not home. I’m shopping, and I was going to grab some lunch. Why don’t you meet me for lunch?”

“I can do that. Where?”

“I’m at Union Square. How about Chinatown?”

“I don’t know how I’m ever going to find parking there, but I’ll give it a try. Han Ting’s?”

“I’ll meet you there at around one o’clock. Is that enough time for you?”

Elise agreed to the time and ended the call. She held the phone out to the woman. “Thank you.”

“No problem.”

“Any progress down there?” Elise stood on her tiptoes, but the scene looked much the same—people searching the ground, heads together conferring, and still the white sheet billowed in the wind.

“No. I’m going to continue my walk over the bridge. I suppose we’ll be reading about this one in the newspaper.”

“I hope so.”

The woman’s brow furrowed and Elise felt her cheeks warming. “I...I mean, I hope the cops keep the public informed about crime. Do they ever underreport this kind of stuff? You know, shove it under the carpet to give people a false sense of security and to keep the tourists coming?”

“I suppose.” The woman cocked her head. “I read about another murder last month, a young woman. I hope we don’t have some serial killer on the loose.”

Elise didn’t want to dash the stranger’s hopes, so she sealed her lips. “I hope not. Anyway, thanks for the phone. Enjoy your walk.”

She shoved her hands in the pockets of her sweater and watched the woman cross the parking lot and head toward the bridge’s pedestrian walkway.

Elise had ventured across the bridge a few times since moving to the city. Round-trip was a good three-mile walk, and while she could use the exercise to clear her head, she had a lunch date with Courtney—not that she was looking forward to it.

She dreaded revealing the rest of last night’s details to Courtney, except for meeting Detective Brody. She wanted her friend’s take on the tall, muscular cop and his protective attitude toward her. Was his behavior normal for a homicide detective questioning a witness?

Normal or not, Elise had felt something click between them, or maybe that was just her desperately reaching out for a knight in shining armor. After Ty, she’d begun doubting the existence of those knights.

She dug in her purse for her keys, and then someone touched her shoulder. She spun around, dropping the keys and hugging her purse to her chest.

Sergeant Curtis faced her, his eyes narrowed and his arms across his barrel chest. “What are you doing here, Ms. Duran?”

Her gaze skittered over his shoulder to Detective Brody still clomping around the beach. “I just had to see for myself. That’s not against the law, is it? All these other people are here.”

“Of course not.” He hunched his shoulders until his short neck disappeared completely. “But you’re not like all these other people, are you?”

“I’m a curious looky-loo, just like them.”

“Don’t start doing your own investigating, Ms. Duran.” He shook his stubby finger in her face. “Leave it to us. We’ll tell you what you need to know.”

Bending over, she swiped her keys up from the ground, hoping for a little composure. Sergeant Curtis’s paternalistic tone caused a spiral of anger to shoot through her body. Why did men always think they knew what was best for her?

“Maybe I don’t want to wait for information. That woman was on my phone. I have a right and a need to know what happened to her.”

He took a step back and blinked. “Sorry. Just don’t want you putting yourself in any danger.”

“I get it.” She waved him off and strode to her car, jabbing her thumb on the remote. He’d probably go and tell Detective Brody now.

And what if he did? She didn’t owe Detective Brody anything, either.

As she rounded her car, a white square on her windshield caught her attention. She rolled her eyes. Perfect—a parking ticket.

She snatched the object from beneath her wiper, her eyebrows colliding over her nose. This was no ticket envelope. She unfolded the slip of paper and scanned the words.

The blood thundered in her ears as she crushed the paper in her fist, her gaze shifting wildly around the parking lot. Her dry mouth made forming words almost impossible.

She swallowed. She licked her lips. She tried again. She screamed.

“He’s here. The killer’s here.”

Chapter Six

The woman’s scream pierced through the air. The sound tore at Sean’s insides. He jerked his head up and scanned the parking lot. A few of the vultures who had been circling the crime scene shifted their attention to a lone woman standing beside a car, waving her arms.

Standing beside a blue hybrid.

A long blond ponytail whipping across her face.

What the hell was Elise Duran doing here, and why the hell was she screaming?

The adrenaline pumped through his body, and his legs responded. He shot up the incline to the parking lot and sprinted across the asphalt.

Curtis had beaten him to it, but it didn’t look as if he was having any luck getting a coherent response from Elise, still waving her arms around and talking gibberish.

“Elise! What’s wrong? What are you doing here?”

She stumbled toward him, holding out a clenched fist, her face white. “He’s here. He’s here. The killer.”

Adrenaline crashed through his body again before the first wave had even subsided, and he grabbed Elise’s arms. “Where? Where is he?”

“Here.” Her trembling fist prodded his chest. “He left this.”

He had to practically pry open her frozen fingers to get to the crumpled piece of paper she’d balled up in her clenched hand. He smoothed it out against the back of his hand and cursed.

Curtis hunched forward. “What is it, Brody? What’s it say?”

“It says, ‘Did you come to see my handiwork?’”

Curtis gurgled, his hand hovering over his weapon. “The SOB is here?”

“How long have you been away from your car, Elise? How much time did he have?”

Her head cranked back and forth. “I don’t know. I mean, I’ve been here for about twenty minutes. I didn’t notice anyone near my car. He’s here. He was here.”

“Maybe someone saw him.” Sean shielded his eyes and tipped his head back to look at the lampposts. “Are there cameras on this part of the parking lot?”

“Nope. It’s like our guy knows this area. No cameras where he dumped the body, either.” Sergeant Curtis held out his hand for the note, and Sean extended it between two fingers even though he wanted to rip it to pieces.

Why had Elise come here anyway? He’d been worrying about her all the way to the crime scene, and she’d been right behind him.

“Where’s Officer Jackson?”

“He’s back at the crime scene, extending the yellow tape. Why?”

“I had him combing through the crowd earlier, asking questions, on the lookout for something just like this.”

Elise’s eyes popped open. “Really? You suspected the killer might be here?”

“A lot of times they stick around to prolong the thrill.”

“That’s taking a risk.” She hugged herself and hunched farther into the big sweater she’d wrapped around her body.

“Our boy likes taking risks, doesn’t he? He used your key to enter your house, sent a picture to your phone.”

Her face crumpled. “Sent me her picture. Who is she, anyway?”

“We don’t know yet.” But the killer had sliced off her finger as a keepsake—something Elise didn’t need to know.

Curtis held up the note. “Do you want me to put this in an evidence bag and track down Jackson to see if he saw anyone suspicious?”

“Yeah.” Sean smacked the roof of Elise’s car. “Ask him if he noticed anyone lurking around the parking lot, if he saw anyone near a blue hybrid.”

Elise dragged a hand through her hair, loosening strands from her ponytail. “How did he find my car, Detective Brody? How did he know I was here?”

Despite her rigid posture, Elise looked ready to shatter into a million pieces. He tilted his chin toward the stone benches on the walkway to the visitor center. “Let’s sit down over here. And you can call me Sean.”

She turned and tripped over her own feet.

“Whoa.” He took her arm to steady her and kept possession of it as they walked toward a bench.

She sat on the edge and crossed her legs, her head swiveling from side to side. “Do you think he’s still here?”

“I think he’s long gone. He must have a police scanner or he was watching the area, knew we’d gotten the call and rushed over to see the spectacle.” He cleared his throat. “He must’ve seen you, Elise. Must’ve recognized you.”

She closed her eyes and a breath shuddered through her body. “He knows my car because he saw it in my garage, so he looked for it.”

“It must’ve increased his excitement tenfold to see you here.”

She slammed a fist against the back of the bench. “Now I’m even more upset that I came out here. I don’t want to give him any more satisfaction.”

“Why did you follow us?”

“I didn’t exactly follow you.” She rubbed her hand, red from the sudden contact with the bench. “Sergeant Curtis had mentioned the location of the body, so I waited until you took off.”

“That doesn’t answer the question.” The strands of her golden hair danced around her face, and his fingers itched to tuck them behind her ears. Instead he folded his arms and drove his fists into his biceps. “Why’d you come out here?”

“Are you seriously asking me that? Why wouldn’t I come when I’m so involved?”

He sliced a hand through the air. “That’s exactly why you need to stay out of this. Don’t tempt this guy. You’re the one who got away. Don’t keep reminding him of that.”

“You’re right.” She sniffled and pulled a tissue from her purse. “I guess I just had to see for myself. I feel...connected to this woman.”

“I understand that, but just let us do our jobs. He’s careless, addicted to the thrill. He wants the limelight. We’ll bring him down.” He touched her shoulder and then buried his hand in his pocket.

There was no doubt Elise needed protection, but she didn’t need it from him. Death and darkness dominated his existence. Elise needed life and light and laughter. She needed to get out of this city.

“You’re right.” She lifted her shoulders and then blew out a sigh. “I just felt compelled to be here.”

Sean narrowed his eyes as he turned his attention to the crime scene, where an officer was waving his arms at him. “Looks like they’re flagging me down. What are you going to do?”

“I’m meeting my friend for lunch.” She tugged at the sleeve of her sweater to reveal a watch. “And I’m going to be late.”

“Where are you having lunch?”

She blinked. “Chinatown.”

“It’s going to be crazy over there. They’re having a parade for the Dragon Boat Festival.”

“I’m pretty sure my friend doesn’t know that. Maybe I’ll park elsewhere and hop on the Muni.”

“I have a better idea. I’ll put a call in to the station there and let them know you’re going to park your car in the lot.” He slipped the notebook from his pocket and jotted down the intersection for her.

“You can do that?”

“One of the perks of being a cop in the city.” He pushed up from the bench and tucked the piece of paper in her hand. “I’ll walk you back to your car. Just be aware of your surroundings. Keep an eye on your rearview mirror.”

Her eyes widened. “You think he might follow me?”