Phantom Instinct (9780698157132) by Meg Gardiner

lowlife.”
    â€œNobody involved in the investigation has mentioned his name or linked him to the attack,” Harper said. “If you had—oh, my God. I could have told you a year ago that I knew who he was.”
    Sorenstam sat forward. “How is it that you know Azerov, Ms. Flynn?”
    Aiden said, “They went to the same high school.”
    Sorenstam looked at him.
    Harper said, “Detective, have you known since the beginning that he was involved?”
    Slowly, Sorenstam turned to Harper. “He’s not the gunman.”
    â€œSay what?” Harper said.
    â€œEddie Azerov was not at Xenon the night it burned. Two shooters entered the club that night. Both of them died. Neither of them was Azerov.”
    â€œBecause he escaped.”
    â€œMs. Flynn, you are, I am afraid, mistaken.”
    Sorenstam’s voice was flat, clear, and definite. A bolus of anger swelled in Harper’s chest.
    â€œI’m not mistaken.”
    â€œAzerov wasn’t there. I’m sorry you’ve come all this way and that you’ve brought Detective Garrison along to present your theory, but it’s incorrect.”
    â€œWhy are you dismissing me?” Harper said.
    â€œI’m not. I take you at your word that you know Azerov and would recognize the tattoo should you see it. But you didn’t.”
    â€œAiden did.” She pointed a thumb at him.
    Sorenstam continued as if Harper hadn’t spoken. “I will make a note that you reported seeing an unidentified person lurking at the memorial. We’ll keep the photo on file. But we can’t use it as evidence that the man at the memorial was also at Xenon. There’s no evidence from Xenon to compare the photo
to
.”
    â€œAiden saw the tattoo. A tattoo that was not found on either of the dead shooters.”
    Aiden said, “Harper, stop.”
    She turned to him. “Why?”
    His face was crestfallen. “It has nothing to do with you.”
    â€œIt has everything to do with me.”
    He looked briefly at Sorenstam. His eyes seemed to sink into his skull. “You could have collared Azerov and brought him here in shackles and it wouldn’t make a difference to Detective Sorenstam.” He stood up. “Let’s go.”
    Baffled, Harper grabbed his hand. “No. What’s the problem?”
    Sorenstam said, “The problem, I’m afraid, is that Aiden—Detective Garrison—has inadvertently misled you.”
    He turned to Sorenstam. The look on his face could have cut rock from a cliff face. The shine in Sorenstam’s liquid eyes dulled.
    She said, “Detective Garrison knew about Eddie Azerov’s existence before the shoot-out at Xenon.”
    Harper’s lips parted.
    Sorenstam’s gaze drifted to Aiden. “Right?”
    He didn’t answer.
    The dark edges on Sorenstam’s face grew sharper. “Azerov was a suspect in an armed robbery eighteen months ago. Sporting goods store—the robber took six grand in cash and a dozen Remington shotguns.”
    Harper held on to his arm. “Aiden?”
    He shook his head. “Stop.”
    Sorenstam said, “He’s confused, Ms. Flynn.”
    â€œSo am I,” Harper said.
    â€œErika,” Aiden said.
    â€œHe is misconstruing what he saw at Xenon. Because you conjured a demon where there is none,” Sorenstam said.
    Harper said, “You think he imagined seeing Zero that night?”
    Aiden said, “Erika. Let it go.”
    Sorenstam had stopped looking at him. “He didn’t see Zero that night. He’s imagining it
right now
. And it’s because you planted the idea in his mind today.”
    â€œBut I didn’t,” Harper said.
    He pulled free of Harper’s grasp. “Enough.” He raised his hands and backed away from the desk. “I’m done.”
    Harper and Sorenstam both said, “Aiden.”
    He turned and strode across the room and out the