She grabbed a pair of scissors and cut the tape, peeling back the paper to reveal a small teal-colored box. The lid came off easily, and she looked down at what seemed to be a collection of photos.
She tipped them onto the counter, careful not to touch them this time—they were a collection of grainy pictures that looked like they were taken on a cell phone, and they showed Liv in various places about town. The grocery store, the library, at a street corner... And nothing else. No note. No explanation. She eased the pictures back into the box, clamped the lid back down and swallowed against the bile rising in her throat.
Mrs. Kornekewsky. Her heart hammered, but under the panic was a certainty—this was connected to Evan. Somehow, maybe even in someone’s fevered mind, this was connected to her cheating ex. Was there no getting rid of him, or had their marriage entangled him in her life irrevocably?
Liv pulled open the drawer where she’d put Jack’s card and rummaged around until she came up with it. She fumbled as she dialed, and it rang three times before he picked up.
“Detective Jack Talbott.”
“Jack. It’s me... It’s Liv. I got a package. Not last night...sometime today. I didn’t see anyone, but when Marie left—” She swallowed, knowing she wasn’t making sense.
“Liv. Slow down. What’s happened?” Jack said.
“I received a package at some point after I came down at nine this morning,” she said, trying to compose herself. “It was addressed to Mrs. Kornekewsky, and it contains pictures of me.”
“Okay.” Jack’s tone turned curt. “Don’t touch it again. I’ll be right there.”
“Thank you.” She sucked in a breath, and she suddenly felt better. She wasn’t alone in this. And while Aunt Marie might think this was only a joke, Liv was now convinced otherwise. It would take a sick person to joke around like this.
“And lock the door until I get there,” Jack said. “See you soon.”
Liv ended the call. All of her earlier bravado had evaporated, and she stared at the box on the counter with a shudder. For the life of her, she couldn’t figure out who’d hate her this much or what it had to do with Evan. Jack seemed to think it might be Evan, but while he might be a cheater, he still had some respect for her as his ex-wife. Maybe Jack could figure this out faster than she could. Her aunt was right—she needed a male presence around here, and a pair of decoy shoes wasn’t going to cut it.
* * *
CHIEF SIMPSON EXCHANGED a look with Jack as he hung up his phone. A few officers in the bull pen were typing away on their paperwork; the coffeepot gurgled to one side. Jack tucked his phone into his pocket and rested a hand on his belt.
“It would appear that the pictures worked, sir,” Jack said. “Kudos to Buchannan for the drop-off.”
This was the most adventure this precinct had seen in decades, or would again, if Jack could guess. Buchannan had gone in plain clothes and, apparently, it had all gone off without a hitch. Now it was up to Jack.
The chief crossed his arms over his ample belly. “Your assignment is clear. You’re to tell her it’s imperative that you shadow her for her own safety. If she needs further confirmation, bring her by the station and I’ll sit her down. But if all goes according to plan, you should be able to begin your investigation.”
“Understood, sir. I’ll be in touch.”
“We’re staying in close contact with the team that is watching Kornekewsky, so if he tries to reach her, we’ll inform you ASAP.”
“Sounds good.”
“And, Talbott?” The chief’s voice grew firm.
“Sir?”
“Stay close to her, but you don’t have permission to cross any lines.”
“Lines, such as...” Jack was pretty sure he knew what the chief meant, but some things were safer to spell out in case they had different ideas of where that line started.
“No romantic entanglement. It’s easy to bend the rules when you’re undercover, and I don’t want that happening here. I want this clean. Don’t give their defense lawyers any gifts, you hear me?”
Jack was more professional than that, and this wasn’t his first undercover operation as a detective, even though it was his first for internal investigations. This was his chance to nab a spot tracking down the dirty cops—something he’d wanted since he was a kid in the projects, watching cops plant evidence.
This felt eerily similar—using planted scare tactics to nab a suspect. Back in the projects, he’d seen the cops who were supposed to protect a community tear it apart—his own cousin had done jail time for a possession conviction based on planted evidence. But that had been different. Berto had been an innocent kid, and the cops who were planting evidence were being paid off by the big drug dealers to divert suspicion away from them. They had to “catch” someone now and again so it looked like they were doing their job. Berto had never been the same again when he got out of prison. When he’d finally pulled himself together, he’d joined a gang, solidifying his life in crime. And Jack had vowed to make it right—get the cretins who’d done this to his cousin.
So while he might find the suspect attractive, he wasn’t foolish enough to get emotionally involved with her. This was a search for evidence and a chance to even the scales a little bit. He was firmly on the side of the boys in blue.
“Loud and clear, sir. Strictly professional.”
“Good luck.”
As Jack headed out of the precinct, he felt a combination of relief and adrenaline. This was a job, and adrenaline always kicked in when he was getting to work, but he was also relieved to be finally heading in there. This wasn’t personal, but the sooner they started, the sooner they could suss out the extent of this scam and lay charges. There were a lot of vulnerable people whose investments and livelihoods might rely on it.
It didn’t take Jack long to arrive at Hylton Books, and he hopped out of his cruiser and headed around to the front door. Liv must have been watching for him, because she met him at the door and opened it before he had a chance to knock.
“Hi,” she said, backing up to let him in. “It’s on the counter.”
She nodded in the direction of the small box, but she didn’t go closer.
“I talked to the chief before I came,” Jack said, heading for the box and taking the required look. He knew what he’d find—the chief had shown it to him that morning.
“What did the chief say?” she asked, her voice low.
“He said that you need protection round the clock until we sort this out. I’ve been assigned to you.” He put the box back down on the counter, keeping it within her line of sight. She was silent for a moment.
“Jack, why was it addressed to Mrs. Kornekewsky?” she asked. “Whatever this is, it has to do with Evan. I just don’t see how.”
“Maybe Evan was up to something,” Jack said.
“He’s a fellow cop, Jack! That’s where you go first thing?” She shook her head. “Evan is a cheating louse, but he’s still one of the good guys. As much as I hate to admit that.”
Yeah. Jack wasn’t so convinced. And “good guy” was a strong description for the husband who’d dumped her.
“It’s pretty clear that this has to do with Evan. You might not like that, but it’s true. And you used to be married to him, so—”
He wanted to solidify that fact in her mind right now—this had everything to do with her ex-husband. Maybe she’d be more forthcoming with information if they didn’t waste time dancing around that one.
“So someone is mad at Evan—” She shook her head. “Everyone