It was Lauren's fault, he decided. She'd put the idea in his mind, that he needed someone. That he'd be alone. Of how long it had been since he'd had a relationship. It was just bad luck that fate had paired him with a woman detective at the same time. He damned Lauren and damned fate. And wondered how Mia felt about strings.
"Solliday, your face is… pasty. If you need to throw up, let me drive."
Grimly he laughed. Mia Mitchell did have a way of articulating the obvious. "I'm fine. Besides, your feet won't reach the pedals."
She made a sarcastic face. "Smart ass. Just drive, Solliday."
Wednesday, November 29, 10:10 a.m.
Mia scanned the crowd who sat impatiently waiting for Spinnelli to appear. It was cold outside but Spinnelli had wanted to maximize access. There were reporters in the crowd, but also a half dozen cops in plain clothes. Spinnelli had set up surveillance in advance and there were several cameras recording the event from several angles. Holly Wheaton sat in the front row, her eyes shooting daggers, although they seemed to be aimed at Solliday. Mia glanced up at him, standing beside her, his feet spread, his arms folded over his chest. He looked like a bodyguard.
"Wheaton looks like she wants to do you some serious harm," she murmured.
"She said some things after you left. I suggested she might… reconsider."
Something in her warmed. "You took up for me?"
His mouth curved inside his goatee. "Something like that."
"Okay. Thanks, I guess."
"You're welcome."
Mia rocked slightly on her sore feet as she studied faces. "See anybody you know?"
"No known firebugs, if that's what you mean. But check out the back. Ten o'clock."
Mia had to bite back a scowl. "One blondbitch with a braid," she muttered. "I'm still pissed that she printed Penny Hill's name before we could inform the family."
"But she did give you DuPree. You said she was on your Christmas list forever."
"I lied," she muttered and heard his deep chuckle. The warmth inside her spread. Soothed, even though she wanted no part of it.
Spinnelli walked up to the podium. The crowd sat up straighter. "We've had reports in the press of a string of fires and homicides. We're here today to set the record straight. We've had two fires in the last week, presumably set by the same arsonist. At each fire site, one body was discovered. We're treating each death as a homicide. At this time we are pursuing a number of leads. Leading the investigation are Detective Mitchell, Homicide, and Lieutenant Solliday from the OFT. Both are decorated, seasoned professionals with many years experience between them. They have the full support and resources of both departments at their disposal. I'll take a few questions now."
A Trib reporter stood. "Can you confirm the first victim was the child of a cop?"
"This is true. The deceased is Caitlin Burnette, a nineteen-year-old college student. We ask that you respect her family in this time of mourning. Next?"
Holly Wheaton rose gracefully and Mia gritted her teeth. "The second victim was a social worker. It's hard not to make a connection between the two. A cop's daughter and a social worker. Are we talking about someone with a mission of revenge?"
"At this time, the motive behind these homicides is not known. Next?"
"Smooth," Solliday murmured.
"That's why he wears the stripes." Mia kept her eyes trained on the crowd as the reporters asked the same questions a dozen different ways. Spinnelli stayed calm and unruffled. He was extending the exposure, she knew. Giving them time to study the crowd, to look for any suspicious behavior. But nothing jumped out. Nothing looked-
She went completely still. Beside her, Solliday tensed.
"What?" he demanded in a low whisper.
Mia swallowed hard, unable to break eye contact with the blonde across the crowd just as she'd been unable to look away when their eyes had met over her half-brother's gravestone. The woman just looked at her, her expression unreadable.
"Who do you see?" he asked. "Is it the woman from the video?"
Mia managed to shake her head. "No."
He pushed out a frustrated breath. "Then who?" he hissed between his teeth.
The woman touched her fingertips to her temple in a small salute and slipped away. "I don't know," Mia said. "Cover me." She stepped behind Solliday's body, grateful for his size as she slipped to the sidelines, her radio in her hand. "This is Mitchell. There's a woman walking west. Five-six, shoulder-length blonde hair, dark suit. Stop her."
Mia made it to the back of the crowd and looked around. The uniforms stationed at the looked puzzled. "Nobody matching that description came through here, Detective."
Mia swore softly and set off at a jog when she saw her. She was walking fast, a scarf covering her head. And now… She was getting into a white Chevy Cavalier. Mia started running, but the car pulled away from the curb, made a quick turn, and was gone before Mia could get more than the first three of the license. "DDA-" Shit.
Mia stopped abruptly in the middle of the street. Dammit. The woman was like a damn ghost. Disgusted, she headed back. Spinnelli was still on the platform.
Solliday pushed his way around the crowd and met her along the side. "The woman on the tape had brown hair. Why did you chase a blonde?" he demanded.
"I honestly don't know. But getting mad at me won't help, that I can guarantee."
"Look, we're in this investigation together, Detective," he said, his voice tense and too controlled. "Don't ever tell me to 'cover you' then slip away again. What if it had been someone we needed to follow? I had no way of knowing if you needed backup."
"It was personal, all right? I don't think it had anything to do with this case."
Solliday"s eyes flickered. "You walked away from a press conference we threw to draw out a killer because of something personal!"
Put that way, she could see his point. "Yeah."
Spinnelli came up to them, his eyes narrowed. "What was that all about, Mia?"
Mia pursed her lips. "I… I'll explain."
"Damn straight you will," Spinnelli snapped. "Debrief in my conference room in ten minutes. Don't be late."
Mia watched him walk away, managing to control her wince. Solliday still stood staring at her, dark eyes flashing. "I'm sorry," she said. "It won't happen again."
"To paraphrase your leader, damn straight it won't." Then he walked away.
"Goddammit." But Mia wasn't sure who she was swearing at. After a minute, she went inside the precinct, deciding she was swearing at herself.
Chapter Eleven
Wednesday, November 29, 10:45 a.m.
All eyes were on her when she walked into the conference room. Spinnelli, Jack, Miles. And Solliday. She sat next to Jack, her stomach churning.
"Did the woman from the news video show?" Spinnelli barked without preamble.
Solliday cleared his throat. "No. Mia thought she saw somebody she recognized, but it turned out not to be the video woman. We got some more amateur video taken yesterday evening. We're hoping to find a lead there."
He was covering for her. Mia bit down on the inside of her cheek. As angry as he'd been, he was covering for her. He was acting like a partner. But I didn't.
Spinnelli pushed. "You must have seen somebody you knew to disappear like that." He frowned. "Without communicating your intentions. Who did you see?"
Mia met Spinnelli's hard gaze. "I didn't see the woman from the video. Sir."
Spinnelli drummed his fingers once. "Then who was she?"
Mia laced her fingers together, hard. "It was a personal matter."