by C. M. Sutter
“None of us know when it’s our natural time to go but being murdered isn’t natural. Jim didn’t have to die—none of them did.”
Henry pushed off the car and tipped his head. “Here comes Finley. I hope we can find something in those archived files.”
“Me too.”
We crossed the lot and met Finley at his designated parking spot then entered the building together. I saw the anguish in his face, and I understood. Losing a longtime detective and friend to murder was unacceptable. Jim and Jesse had been under Finley’s wing for a good amount of time, and even though Jesse transferred a year back, word was they’d all remained close. Now Jim was dead, and Jesse was missing, but I prayed that he was still alive.
We followed Finley to the records department, where dozens of file cabinets stood side by side.
“Sorry this seems old-fashioned, but it’s the department’s way of keeping track of every criminal case our detectives have worked on. The three file cabinets on the far left are mine. They cover the arrest dates, what detectives led the investigations, and who the criminal or criminals arrested were.”
I frowned. “So the court records aren’t included in these files?”
“Nope, only the police department’s arrest records. The information is stored for seven years and comes in handy from time to time. If somebody tries to sue the department, we reference those reports that contain verifiable proof of the exact way the arrests went down. As the commander, I also use the files to help me see who should be promoted or demoted based on their work performance.”
“Got it. So we have to go through seven years of files?”
“Yes, but you won’t have to go through all the files in the cabinets. They’re listed alphabetically, so you’d only have to pull the ones for Crosley and McCord. It makes tracking down everything the detectives were lead on, or involved in, much easier.”
I felt a sense of relief. Checking the files by name would definitely speed up the process. “Okay, great.” I turned to Henry. “Shall we get started?”
Finley said he was returning to his office and walked out. I knew he’d have plenty to keep him busy with the tragic events from that morning. I opened the file cabinets that began with C and M.
Henry fished out his phone from his pants pocket. “I’m going to give Lutz an update call before we’re knee-deep in our work and I forget. I’d like to know how the search at the courthouse is going too.”
“Good idea, and I’ll start pulling Jesse’s files.” I flipped through the tabs until I came to McCord. Jesse’s folders were thick, and seven years’ worth would take some time to go through. I’d have to review every narcotics bust he had been a part of to see if I could track down the person’s name that started with an M.
I placed stacks of folders on the table centered in the room and dug in. I was sure Henry would start on Jim’s files as soon as he ended his phone call to Lutz.
Moments later, he crossed the room and pulled open the cabinets that had the C files inside.
“What did Lutz say?”
“That Potter and Murray were coming up empty as far as any cases Jesse was compelled to testify in that had a defendant whose name began with an M.”
“That’s not good.” I closed my eyes and retreated to that dream. I tried to pull the conversations to the forefront of my mind.
Are there too many last names that began with an M stuck in my head, and they’re screwing up my recall? It isn’t McCord, Murray, or Mills. I’m sure it’s a first name. The man isn’t a cop because I’ve already checked the roster. What the hell was that name? Not Morrison, Morgan, or Martin. And it wasn’t Marcus, Miles, or Marshall either.
I let out an irritated huff, and Henry glanced my way. “Something wrong?”
“Yeah, I need a new memory stick. Apparently the one I have is overloaded and can’t hold any more data.”
Henry reached for his phone. “I’ll call the bull pen here and see if somebody has an extra one.”
I smiled, and he stared at me.
“I guess I don’t follow.”
“In my head, as in my own memory. I meant it as a joke, but never mind, it wasn’t funny anyway.”
He grinned. “Okay, now I get it. It was actually more of a clever statement than a funny one. Sorry I can’t help you with it, though. What are you trying to remember?”
“The name in my dream. If I knew the name, I could send it over to the guys at the courthouse. They could cross-reference that name to the trials Jesse testified in, and we’d have our answers in no time.” I opened the first folder and began reading every name mentioned in that arrest report.
Hours passed, long after our normal lunchtime, and we hadn’t come up with anything.
Henry tipped his chin toward the door. “Come on. Get up, stretch, and take a half hour. We need a break and something to eat.”
“Coffee sounds good too. I’m nearly falling asleep, and I don’t want to miss anything because I’ve dozed off.”
Henry closed the records room door behind us, and we walked to the cafeteria. Finley was just exiting with a can of soda.
“Find anything yet?”
“No, sir, and it’s troubling.”
“Yeah, I know. All this thinking has given me a headache.” He held up the can. “For some reason, soda helps.”
“There are a lot of files to review, but I haven’t found anything that stands out, and nothing that sparks a connection to my dream.”
Henry dropped three quarters into the soda machine. “I’ll call Lutz again and get an update.” He excused himself and sat at a table and made the call.
Finley walked with me to the coffee machine. “Are you sure about your theory, Kate?”
“As sure as any theory, I guess. We don’t have other leads and going through these files is a process of elimination, anyway.”
“Yeah, you have a point. The detectives who searched the ground around Jim’s house and talked to the neighbors said they came up empty. That man you know as John, if he’s the one who killed Jim, disappears into thin air like a ghost. Nobody has seen him commit any crimes at all. The only connection you have that makes you think he was responsible for both murders is that Terry Lewis and Jeff Lennard were shot with the same gun. You said he admitted to killing Jeff, correct?”
“Yes, right to my face, sir. Speaking of that, did the ME give you any indication as to the caliber of the slug that killed Jim?”
“A large one. The back of his head was damn near gone. Forensics will compare that slug to the others with a ballistics test. My gut tells me it’ll match.”
“Yeah, mine does too.”
Chapter 40
Henry and I closed the files at four thirty and placed them back in the cabinets. We had nothing. Those nagging doubts were creeping back into my mind.
I do have confidence in my abilities, don’t I? My dreams are accurate, aren’t they?
I was beginning to wonder. I’d call Jade and Amber later that night since they always found a way to help me regain my confidence. My self-doubts would be kicked to the curb, and I’d carry on. I didn’t want my Chicago colleagues to start doubting my abilities either. I was already a sideshow con artist and my psychic gift nothing more than hocus-pocus, according to Mills. I knew he was angry and frustrated, and Jesse was his partner and closest friend in the homicide unit, but Jesse’s kidnapping wasn’t my fault. My dreams were leading me down the right path, but when I’d reached that fork in the road, I’d somehow turned the wrong way. I needed to rethink what that first dream was really trying to tell me.
Henry rapped on Finley’s door. We had to give him the unfortunate news—we weren’t any closer to finding the perp than we were that morning.
He called out from inside his office. “Come in.”
Henry pulled open the door and allowed me through first. “Sir, we’re going to head back to our precinct. The archived files didn’t reveal anything that could help us.”
Finley tipped ba
ck his chair and stared at the ceiling tiles. “And I thought for sure you’d find something. I don’t know what our next step should be since we have no sightings, no fingerprints, and no clues. How the hell are we going to find this guy? Nobody even knows what he looks like. He could pass me on the street and I’d give him a nod and a smile just like any other pedestrian.”
“We understand your angst, sir, but there’s still the update we’ll get from the detectives at the courthouse. They have forty-five minutes to go before the county offices close for the night. They might get lucky.”
Finley nodded. “Maybe.”
I followed Henry to the Wentworth station, and we walked inside together. We needed to give Lutz the bad news.
I was frustrated. This was one of the toughest cases I’d ever been on, and what I’d thought were clues from my dreams had failed me. I glanced at Henry as we made our way to the sergeant’s office. “I think we need another powwow with the entire unit.”
Henry shook his head. “Let’s talk to Lutz first and see what he thinks. The news from this morning didn’t sit well with anyone. Now, they’re thinking cops are the latest target on that maniac’s list, and they’re out for blood. You’re the last person I’d want them to take out their anger on.”
“I have tough skin, Henry.”
“I’m not sure it’s tough enough. Don’t get me wrong, and you aren’t to blame for anything, but since our own department can’t solve the case, they’re going to use you as the fall guy. That much I know. Mills is a good cop, but he can be a real bastard at times and he enjoys getting people riled up.”
“Thanks for the tip, but I had him figured out within five seconds of meeting him. Tonight I’m going to reevaluate every note I’ve taken. Somehow, that dream led me in the wrong direction. I stand by my theory of the case being about cooking and distributing meth, but something about the dream characters went wrong.”
Lutz’s office door was ajar, so Henry knocked and gave it a slight push. “Boss, we’re back.”
“Come on in and have a seat. We need to compare notes.”
Henry waved me in first, and I took the guest chair farthest from the door. I nodded at Lutz and waited for Henry to get comfortable.
The sergeant looked at me. “Well?”
I let out an involuntary sigh. “We went through all of the narcotics files that Jesse and Jim were lead on and didn’t find that unusual M name I was hoping for. There were a few Mikes and Marks, but I know my dream character wasn’t either of those names. Sir, I’m thinking there’s too much for Henry and me to cover alone.”
Henry added his opinion. “That’s especially true considering Jim’s murder this morning. Can you spare anyone who’s working the attorney cases?”
Lutz rubbed his brow. “I agree, and I’ll assign Mills to work with you.”
“But—”
I interrupted Henry before he had a chance to come to my rescue. I was an officer of the law and wasn’t about to let Mills intimidate me. “Thank you, sir, and we appreciate all the help we can get.”
“Good. Potter checked in about ten minutes ago. He said they couldn’t find any drug-related court cases that Pitts and Waters were lead on, where Jesse was compelled to testify, and the criminal had an unusual name.”
I stared at my lap. “This case is proving more difficult than I thought it would be. I was sure my dreams would lead us to the perp, but in reality, it looks like we have a lot more investigating to do. No matter what, tonight I’m going to review everything I have so far to see if I’ve overlooked anything.”
“Appreciate it, Kate. The guys haven’t come up with any new leads on the attorney murders either. If only something would pop.” The sergeant looked toward the ceiling. “We could use a little help here.” Lutz tapped his pen on the desk. “Make your peace with Mills and call it a night. I know he’s been tough on you since you showed up, but he’ll come around. If not, let me know.”
I gave Lutz a nod and pushed back my chair. Henry and I excused ourselves and headed to the bull pen.
“What’s your take on working with Mills?”
I shrugged. “He isn’t the boogeyman, and I’m not going to let him get under my skin. We’re supposed to act like adults, right?” I grinned at Henry. “At least you and I do.”
I noticed the scowl Mills wore when we entered the bull pen. Lutz must have given him a heads-up call, and he didn’t appear happy.
I whispered to Henry as we crossed the room. “I might as well get this over with.” I approached Mills and stood in front of his desk.
He glanced up with a blank look on his face. “Can I help you with something, Pierce?”
It was more than obvious that he hadn’t addressed me as Detective Pierce, but I chose to ignore it. I’d take the higher ground and try to make our working relationship tolerable.
“Detective Mills, if you have a few minutes, I’d like to speak with you privately.”
He stared a hole through me for a good ten seconds, but I held my position.
“Yeah, whatever. Let’s go in the cafeteria.”
I felt a sense of relief. I was making progress, and I couldn’t help smiling, which apparently caught him off guard. He actually smiled back, which I was sure was only a natural reaction, but it was too late. The deed was done, and maybe after a one-on-one conversation, he’d realize I wasn’t the quack he’d thought I was. I’d be honest and candid, and I’d let him know I was human and a person who made good and bad judgment calls, just like everyone else.
The silence was uncomfortable as we walked side by side to the cafeteria, but I understood his frustration. If anything ever happened to Jack, Jade, Amber, or any of the guys at the sheriff’s office, I’d not only be mortified, I’d be angry if somebody else unaffiliated with our department, or friendship, stepped in.
I sat at the first table and quietly took in a slow breath.
Mills’s voice was deep and gruff, but he asked if I wanted a coffee.
“Sure, thanks, and black is fine.”
I watched as he filled two cups from the coffeemaker at the end of the room. I was sure it was that morning’s brew, but I’d slug it down and be grateful for baby steps. Mills took a seat across from me and passed a cup my way.
“Thanks.”
“What’s on your mind, Pierce?”
“I imagine by the expression you wore when Henry and I walked into the bull pen that Lutz already gave you the news.”
“He did, and I’ll admit I’m not stoked about it.”
“Because of me?”
He smirked and kept quiet.
“May I call you Francis?”
“Frank will do. Francis sounds like a sissy name. Maybe my mom secretly wanted a girl.”
I smiled and knew somehow, I’d soften that tough codger. “Okay, Frank it is, and I’d appreciate it if you just call me Kate. I like being casual.”
He nodded.
“Frank, I’m not the enemy, and I truly care for Jesse, or I wouldn’t have agreed to the sergeant’s request to come to Chicago. Don’t get me wrong, I’m all about helping other departments, but being a psychic consultant was something I did before I actually went to the police academy and became a deputy and then a detective at the sheriff’s office. I like my job—no, actually, I love my job—and really miss my colleagues.” I made eye contact with him and saw he was listening. “I got to know Jesse when Jenna died, and honestly, I’d do anything to help your department find him. He has a special place in our hearts. That goes for the entire team in Washburn County.”
Mills rubbed his face. “He’s been my partner for a year, but we go back way before that. We used to meet up at the range after our shifts and target practice together, and there’s nobody who can hold a candle to the killer football parties Jesse has at his house.”
The image of Jesse’s basement man cave came to mind. “I understand, and although my housemates are women, we have a special football ritual with our fellow detectives too. I’ve see
n Jesse’s man cave. Our living room doesn’t even come close to competing with that.”
Frank laughed. I was getting somewhere.
Chapter 41
I went over the details of my dreams with Frank and prayed that he’d have an open mind. “Most of the time, my dreams lead law enforcement to a positive outcome. The problem is, many times we don’t connect the dots until after the fact. Frank, there’s somebody out there who knows the ins and outs of how the police department works. That man is our killer and Jesse’s kidnapper. He’s seeking revenge, and it has something to do with that second man in the white car. This entire killing spree is about him. We figure out his name and we find the killer. That’s why it’s so imperative to learn who he is.”
“And you’re sure it’s got something to do with a meth bust?”
“Absolutely. I’m positive of it, and I’ll bet my bottom dollar that Jim was shot with the same gun Jeff and Terry were killed with.”
“So you’re thinking Jesse testified at the trial because he and Jim busted the guy? That would mean the killer was likely sitting in the gallery and watching as the case unfolded in front of him. He saw Jesse testify and probably Jim too, and that’s why Jim was killed. I doubt if Jesse has much time left.”
“I agree, and that’s the route I thought made the most sense, but we can’t find anything. Frank, Jesse may have told you something about his prior cases in Narcotics that you don’t even realize is relevant.”
Frank nodded. “We did have lengthy discussions, especially when he was on the fence about transferring to Homicide. I needed a partner since Phil Jenkins retired, and Jesse was leaning toward a department that didn’t come with as many risks as Narcotics.”
“That seems odd to me. You’d think Homicide would be even riskier.”
“One would think, but drug dealers and users are doped up half the time, they’re unpredictable, and they always carry weapons. They’d shoot someone out of the blue just because their brains are fried.” Frank took a sip of his coffee and frowned. “This tastes like shit.”
