Rarities Unlimited 04 - The Color of Death

and deep, telling himself that he was just thirsty, that’s all. It wasn’t that his mouth was dry with fear. It couldn’t be that. He had nothing to be afraid of.
    How could this happen?
    “Talk to me,” she demanded, turning to face him. “And put a cork in the beer. If word of this gets out, Sizemore Security Consulting is ruined.”
    He ignored her until he finished the second beer. Then he reached for a third.
    With startling quickness, Sharon stepped between her father and the vat of icy beer. “No.”
    He started to shove her aside, only to find that she was stronger than she looked.
    “It’s my life too,” she said angrily. “Tell me what’s going on and then you can drink beer until you’re too drunk to care about anything but the next beer.”
    Sizemore started to explode, then decided she was right. The beer could wait.
    “This is much too important to screw up with a father-daughter shouting match,” she said.
    He shrugged. He hated when she was right, which was a hell of a lot more often than he gave her credit for.
    “What do you want to know?” he muttered.
    “This Kirby dude. Where is he now?”
    “The morgue.”
    She let out a long breath. “Well, that’s going to make it hard to question him.”
    Sizemore gave a laugh that was more like a grunt. “Maybe that’s the whole idea. Dead man, no witnesses but Groves and the CI he’s shagging. Easy enough to point the finger at someone else.”
    “Kennedy has known you too long to buy their bull.”
    “I hope so.” Sizemore looked at his watch. “I expected him to call by now to apologize.”
    She frowned and narrowed her eyes at something only she couldsee. “So you have a vague connection to Kirby and Kirby is dead. What else could Groves use against you?”
    “There’s a leak somewhere on the crime strike force. Groves wants to pin it on me.”
    “How?”
    “How?” he repeated sarcastically. “Shit, use your head for something besides blowing Peyton. I run a security operation. I have access to a lot of courier information.”
    “So do other people. The CI’s father, for instance. Is Groves barking up that tree?”
    “I don’t know.”
    “What about the couriers themselves?”
    “You think they set themselves up to be killed?” Sizemore asked in rising tones.
    “Maybe they just expected to get part of the take and they got killed instead. Besides, most of the couriers never even know anything has happened until they check the trunk. They report the theft and walk away perfectly healthy. Only the insurance companies cry.”
    Sizemore frowned. “And we look like dickheads.”
    “Maybe Mandel Inc. was working with dirty couriers,” Sharon continued. “Maybe the son found out and something went wrong.”
    “You think the man killed his own son?”
    “Read the Bible. Hell, read the newspapers. It happens all the time. Maybe no one meant for anyone to get hurt,” she said, waving her hand impatiently. “Maybe that’s just the way it turned out. Shit happens.”
    Sizemore pulled at his lower lip with his thumb and forefinger. “I like it. Can we prove it?”
    “I don’t know.” She went and sat by her computer again. “But if we put our minds to it, we might be able to inflate the theory enough to keep us afloat.”

Chapter 63
    Glendale
    Sunday
    5:30 P.M .
    “When do you think he’ll call?” Kate asked.
    Sam shifted, lifting her to a more comfortable position on top of him. They’d flipped a coin for top or bottom and he’d lost. Not that he was complaining. The floor wasn’t uncomfortable, exactly. It was just that the bed was a lot more accommodating.
    Or had been. Right now the bedroom smelled like industrial strength cleaners. Kate wouldn’t even look at it.
    He didn’t blame her.
    Besides, the living room floor had a lot to recommend it. Convenience, for starters. Oh, yeah. It was convenient. He smiled at the memory. He liked having her come apart in his hands, his arms, both of them too hungry to make it more than three steps inside the front door to shut off the alarm. He could get used to that kind of heat and loving.
    Who are you trying to fool? You’re already used to it. What are you going to do when this is all over? Ask her to make ice cubes in Fargo with you? Because that’s where you’ll be until hell freezes solid or your twenty years are up, whichever comes first.
    But until they broke the case, he had Kate, all warm and soft, covering him like a