by S. E. Harmon
“Call us if you find anything else,” Danny reminded him.
He waved a hand over his shoulder. “I always do.”
The door swung shut behind him and Danny shook his head. “He’s going to kill you one day if you keep getting on his nerves,” he said conversationally.
For someone else that might seem a bit dramatic, but I’d once seen those steady, liver-spotted hands stick a giant needle right in a fresh corpse’s frigging eye. I could still hear that disgusting squish of viscous fluid.
My eye twitched. “Let’s get the hell out of here.”
A short walk later, we were back at BBPD. I couldn’t deny I was a bit melancholy as we waited in front of the bank of decrepit elevators. Danny bumped my shoulder circumspectly. “What is it?”
“Just thinking about Mason. He was there, you know.”
“At the ME’s office?” He shook his head. “That must’ve been tough for him.”
“It was. He seemed to think I could help resurrect him somehow.” A frown marred my brow as I thought about the experience. “I’m not sure where he got that idea, but he was holding on to that hope.”
Danny gave me a long look. “Rain, I’ve put up with a lot of strangeness from you. Hell, I’d go so far as to say it’s one of your best qualities. But if you start resurrecting people, we’re so over.”
I chuckled. “Shut up. I just felt bad for him. He was desperate to get back to his family. His mother and Luke. Casey and Hunter.”
Danny looked at me strangely again. “What?” I asked, a touch exasperatedly.
“You didn’t notice anything odd about that list?”
“Not really, no. Enlighten me.”
“Just who the hell is Hunter?”
I opened my mouth and closed it. Hell, I’d been so distracted by everything else going on, I hadn’t even noticed an unfamiliar name in the mix.
I sighed. “Among other things, I guess he’s another suspect.”
Chapter 13
Being late for a meeting I called had to be a new low.
I checked my watch and then harassed the printer some more, hoping it would finally give up the goods. I was already a minute late. For the most part, the team was a pretty punctual bunch. So was I, when I wasn’t being thwarted by office equipment older than dirt.
Danny was the worst of the bunch, so punctual he abhorred earliness as much as he did lateness. He’d probably arrived at 4:59. I was pretty sure he had a clock up his ass. I still hadn’t found it yet with my fingers or my dick, but I was dedicated to the search.
I gave the printer a swift kick. It gurgled before starting up with a hum and then spat out my papers with so much force that they overshot the paper tray. The papers were still a little warm as I gathered them from the floor. As I hustled to the elevator, I heard shuffling behind me and the faint call of, “Hold it!”
I jabbed the door close button no less than six times.
I was only five minutes late as I blew into the briefing room like something a hurricane picked up, color high in my cheeks and tie slightly askew. “Hello, all.” I looked around at the group, suddenly realizing someone was missing. “Where’s Kevin?”
“Not here yet,” Danny said, handing me a Styrofoam cup that I knew wasn’t coffee. His usual uniform of jeans and a T-shirt had been usurped with a dark blue button down and pressed gray slacks. That told me that he’d had a meeting at some point today. He always went corporate casual when Lieutenant Tate was involved. “We can start without him, though.”
I tacked up the copy of an ancient missing flyer. Even in the crappy, cropped photo, the man looked fresh and young and friendly. He had a headful of light-brown curls and dark brown eyes. A slight smile revealed deep dimples on either side of his mouth.
“All right, I’ll bite,” Tabitha said. Her ginger hair was pulled up in a high ponytail that made her look youthful and fresh-faced. She pushed glasses up her pert, freckled nose with one finger. “Who the hell is Hunter Carr?”
The door banged open and Kevin bustled in, a little out of breath. “Sorry I’m late,” he said, dropping into a chair. “Someone closed the elevator on me.”
I cleared my throat. “People can be so rude. Don’t worry, you didn’t miss too much. I was just introducing everyone to Hunter Carr, otherwise known as our set of mystery bones in the trunk.”
That missing flyer was the result of a sleepless night. I got out of bed thirty minutes after I got in and holed up in my makeshift home office, otherwise known as Danny’s dining room. The original purpose of the room was also completely lost on Danny, as evidenced by the treadmill he’d crammed in one corner. He was more of a breakfast bar/stool type of guy, but his mother had given him a dining set when he bought the house. So there it stayed—a mahogany behemoth with settings for eight. Tangible testament to his dedication as the ultimate mama’s boy.
I’d curled up in one of the ornate chairs and worked for hours, changing parameters and hoping to get a hit. Danny drifted through some time around four in the morning, hair ruffled and yawning. He didn’t say much other than, “Couldn’t sleep?” Then he’d left a cup of tea by my elbow, kissed me on the forehead, and went back to bed.
I drank the tea absently. I was halfway done with the cup before I realized it was the Sleepytime blend, the one with that damned bear in pajamas on the front cover. Crafty bastard. I didn’t know if it was due to the tea or not, but I fell asleep an hour later. I woke with my head pillowed on my folded arms and a hit flashing on my laptop screen.
“Did you call Saunders?” Danny asked.
I nodded. Saunders begrudgingly thanked me for the lead. Then he hung up on me. He hated having his thunder stolen. I loved stealing his thunder so much, he should probably save me in his phone as Thor.
I tacked up Mason’s photo and drew an arrow with a particularly squeaky marker. Squeeaaak. “Ten years ago—”
“Oh God,” Nick groaned.
“Ten years ago,” I said louder, much to Danny’s amusement. “Hunter Carr lived in the quaint neighborhood of Turtle Bay with his mother and two younger siblings. He’d only been out of college for a year, but he landed a job at a small software company. When his mother got a job offer in Oklahoma, Hunter didn’t want to move. He also couldn’t afford a place of his own.”
“What’s the connection to our original vic?” Nick asked, impatience gleaming in his dark eyes. “And how did they wind up stuffed in a trunk together?”
“I’m getting to that. I talked to Hunter’s mother and she mentioned he’d been seeing someone for five weeks. I think that person was Mason, and even though their relationship was relatively new, they were going to move in together.”
“That still doesn’t explain how they wound up dead.”
“I have a few working theories. They could’ve been lured to the park by someone.” I thought some more. “Or maybe they saw something they weren’t supposed to, and someone had to eliminate them as witnesses.”
Danny rubbed so hard at his temples that I winced. “Christiansen. Please tell me you’re not trying to open up our suspect pool with the words like someone and something.”
“One of you call my wife. Tell her I went quickly,” Kevin said piteously. “McKenna, you do the eulogy. Say some nice things.”
Danny clucked his tongue in sympathy. “Ten four, good buddy. As soon as I think of some.”
“This case has new life,” I assured them. “It’s a good start.”
Kevin snorted. “Yeah, if you have low standards.”
I jerked a thumb in Danny’s direction. “Obviously I do.”
Danny sent me a grin as he leaned back in his chair. “All right, anyone else have any theories they’d like to share?”
“I’ll go,” Kevin said, running his fingers through close-cropped blond hair. He ended the movement by lacing them behind his head. “Before this Hunter guy, Mason was dating a married man. Carter James. What if Carter was the one who lured Mason to the park and strangled him to death? The
n he realized Hunter was waiting in the car and had to end him too. It’s vintage ‘if I can’t have you no one can.’”
I took a seat at the table. The only spot open was next to Nick, probably because he had his feet up. His skinny jeans were fashionably ripped but the stubble on his chin and wrinkled T-shirt made it seem like he wasn’t trying too hard. He’d topped off the outfit with trendy sneakers that looked vaguely familiar. Designer or not, those sneakers were a little too damn close to my tea. I sent him a meaningful look that he ignored. I huffed.
“It wouldn’t be in his best interest to kill Mason,” Nick said, recrossing his sneakers. They got closer to my tea. “Last time I checked, dead people can’t love you back.”
I pushed his feet off the table with the end of a pencil. “Dead people also can't put their grungy sneakers on tables.”
“These are far from grungy. They’re Yeezys,” he informed me.
“I have no idea what that means.”
“It means he’s a sneakerhead,” Danny said. “He still has a pair of J’s that are factory-laced.”
It was Danny’s turn to receive my blank look. “What?”
“Air Jordans,” Tabitha clarified, her brown eyes earnest. “He has a pair he’s never worn. He paid a grip for them too. Usually he likes to search older sneaker stores for deadstock gems, but he decided to splurge.”
I made an exasperated noise. “Okay, someone say something I understand now.”
Danny’s eyes sparkled with humor as he leaned back in his chair. “I haven’t heard any real opposition to Kevin’s theory. So for now, let’s all agree Carter stays on the list.”
“I got another theory,” Tabitha declared. She waited an extra moment for dramatic effect. “Sue Harris-Paige.”
A chorus of “what” echoed around the room. Danny leaned so far back in his chair, I thought he might tip over. “All those tantalizing suspects, and you go straight for the mother,” he said with a smile. “How’s your mom doing again? She moved in with your sister to help with the new baby last year, didn’t she? Seven states away?”
“Eight,” Tab said dreamily, satisfaction etched on her delicate features. “Don’t forget about Tennessee.”
He laughed. “You know, we have a department psychiatrist and good, comprehensive insurance. Use them.”
She waved her hands. “I’m serious, you guys. Think about it. I read Christiansen’s summary of their interview. She said Mason didn’t have much time for her at the end because of his new relationship, which we now know was with Hunter. She’s upset with the loss of the attention from her golden child—”
“Upset enough to bludgeon them to death, stuff them in a trunk, and push that trunk in the lake?” Danny raised an eyebrow. “I know she’s probably taking vitamins, but even Centrum Silver has its limits.”
Kevin snorted. “Smart money is on Luke. Bumping Mason off means Luke got the business, some insurance money, and the house that Mason was kicking him out of. Jealousy and revenge, people. Doesn’t get more classic than that.”
“Let’s not forget about the jilted ex,” Tabitha mused. “Despite the divorce, Melanie was still in love with Mason. Unrequited love can make people do crazy things.”
“Sounds like an ex I had,” Nick said with a sigh that was… strangely nostalgic. “Picture all that crazy, but packed into a five-foot-one, hundred-and-ten-pound frame.”
“Amber?” Danny frowned. “Didn’t you bring her to our barbecue?”
“Yeah. So?” Nick shrugged. “She wasn’t crazy then.”
I squinted as I remembered a beautiful redhead who gave me Harley Quinn vibes. “Wasn't she the one who stole our corn cob holders? And the guest soap?”
“So she was a klepto,” Nick said defensively. “Like any of you are perfect? Mr. I See Dead People?"
“Hey.” I really had nothing to add to my defense, so I just settled for the hey.
Nick jerked a thumb in Kevin's direction. “Mr. Never Met A Sandwich I Won't Eat. Even if it’s been in the garbage can.”
“That sandwich was in a bag and it was perched on top,” Kevin said with a small grin—there was no shame in his game. “We have a food waste problem in this country, Nicky.”
Nick wasn’t quite done as he turned Tabitha’s way. “Ms. Tase First, Ask Questions Later.”
“Talk to me when you’re my size trying to put down a guy who’s six-foot-three,” she snapped. “He’s lucky I didn’t aim for his nuts.”
Kevin and I shifted uncomfortably in our chairs. Nick withdrew his feet off the table and crossed them primly at the ankle. I was pretty sure every man in the room wanted to shield his junk protectively. Even if he had been an unruly suspect, her words created an impromptu moment of silence… in the name of balls.
Nick turned to Danny to bestow a nickname on him and caught a glimpse of that formidable glower. His mouth closed quickly.
“Let’s get back on topic,” Danny said sternly. “Kevin, I want you to find out everything you can about Hunter Carr. We’ve been looking at this as if Mason was the target and Hunter was in the wrong place at the wrong time, but we need to be certain.”
Kevin saluted him. “You got it.”
“Nick and Tab—”
“Sue Harris-Paige?” Tabitha’s eyes glowed.
He didn’t bother to hide his amusement. “No, I want you guys to have another chat with Melanie. See how she felt about Mason moving on and moving in with a much younger guy so quickly.”
“All right,” she agreed grumpily.
“Rain, I want you to dig into Luke’s past. His mother said he’d gotten into a lot of trouble. I’d like to know what kind of trouble we’re talking about.”
It was my turn for a grumpy “all right.” I enjoyed and excelled at research, but my eyes were still gritty from the night before. Danny was probably making sure I was good and tired, so I’d get some rest tonight. He was selfish like that.
Danny smiled as if he could read my thoughts. “Everyone know what they’re doing?”
It wasn’t really a question.
“Yes,” we dutifully chorused.
“Then why are all of you still sitting here?”
As we dispersed, Nick mouthed to me Mr. Control Freak, proving he did indeed have nicknames for us all. I stifled a laugh as Danny looked at me suspiciously. Nick might be an asshole, but there was no arguing that.
By ten o’clock, I was running on fumes. An hour earlier, I’d drifted down to the eatery on the first floor and bought a power-up bowl for a snack. I didn’t know what the power-up part was, or why that made it so pricey, but it mostly seemed to be composed of yogurt and fruit. Maybe the term “power up” was code for “pay me extra money now for the power of suggestion.”
I rubbed my bleary eyes as I continued to follow Luke’s admittedly large digital footprint. In contrast to Mason’s spotless record, Luke had gotten busted for petty crimes early in life. Breaking and entering, ‘dine and dash’ incidents, and defacement of public property seemed to be on his repeat playlist. Hell, even his driving record was shit. He’d progressed to armed robbery when he was seventeen, which wasn’t all that surprising. He got off light and did a six-year stint up at Calhoun Correctional.
I read on, listing forward every few minutes, closer and closer to getting a face full of yogurt. Luke’s life was on the right track now, but the road he’d taken was all kinds of bumpy. Jail had a way of changing people and making them do things they’d never consider doing before.
Maybe it had taken a very big mistake to make Luke realize he needed to straighten up.
“Rain?” I startled awake to find Danny leaning against the doorframe, a half smile playing on his mouth. “What the hell are you doing?”
“Wha?” I looked down at the table and blinked. Several pieces of kiwi and strawberry littered the table. On my documents. On my precious laptop. I watched stupidly as another slice of strawberry fell off the spoon clenched in my fist and landed on the table.
“Cra
p. Apparently, I now use fruit as Post-Its.” I plucked at the piece of fruit on my keyboard, my fingers clumsy and uncoordinated. I dropped it back in the bowl and licked my sticky fingers. “Where’ve you been?”
“Saunders’s office. He confirmed the ID of the second body as that of Hunter Carr.” He paused. “He also said if he catches you lurking in the bushes of the ME’s office again, he’s going to mace you.”
“I wasn’t lurking.” I scowled. “I parked my car in the secondary lot today. I cut through their bushes as a shortcut.”
“That’s interesting, especially since the main lot wasn’t all that full today.” His eyes twinkled in amusement. “He also said you should lose his number.”
“So I called him a few times. Couldn’t have been more than a few—”
“Dozen—”
“Half dozen calls,” I corrected. “You have to be persistent with these people. Like… like….”
“A flea on a dog’s ass?” he supplied helpfully.
I glared. “I guess now that we have an official confirmation, I should update the board.”
“Already done.” Danny’s mouth curved. “Do I know you or what?”
Not very well if you touched the precioussss.
Sure enough, my whiteboard—the one with Do Not Touch meticulously printed in small caps at the bottom—was altered. Hunter’s missing flier had been replaced with a school photo. He was in a pressed, plaid shirt and his cheeks were creased with a patented take the damn picture already smile. Danny had written Hunter’s name in block letters that were neat, but way too big. I appreciated the effort, but he was still a dead man walking for touching my board.
I knuckled my eyes with both fists, sure in the knowledge that I was going to crash the moment my head hit a pillow. I barely remembered to cover my mouth as I yawned widely.
“Aw. Mr. Buttoned-Up and Efficient all sleepy and tired.” Danny pushed off the doorframe and came over to me. He ruffled my hair like I was wearing footie pajamas. “So adorable.”
Nothing like the guy you want to think you’re sexy calling you a sleepy toddler.
