by Gerri Hill
"So you left without having dinner and you're making him fend for himself?" Casey guessed.
"Pretty much. But he'll just end up going to Jeff's. They'll order pizza and play games, and he'll forget all about our fight by the time I get home."
And then you can make up with sex. Casey was surprised by the jolt of jealousy she felt at the thought. Good grief. They're engaged to be married. They're living together. They have sex. Get over it. They probably had sex last night. She glanced quickly at Leslie's profile. She was staring out the window, lost in thought. Yeah, they probably had sex last night. Casey was at home, agonizing over the little indiscretion she'd had, and Leslie was with Michael. Having sex.
She didn't realize the tight grip she had on the steering wheel until Leslie touched her arm.
"What's wrong?"
"Nothing. Why?"
"You have a death grip on the wheel."
Casey made herself relax. She took one hand off the wheel and reached for her water bottle, taking a long drink.
"Casey?"
"Hmm?"
"I like you a lot, you know."
Casey stopped at a red light, chancing a glance at her. But Leslie's gaze was straight ahead, staring out the window again. The light turned green and she went on, not knowing what to say.
And for the next hour, they cruised up and down Elm, and on the side streets, looking for anyone who caught their eye. They talked some, but their conversation took on a less personal tone. Which was fine. It was less stressful that way.
At ten thirty, just when she was planning her last drive down Elm, Leslie spotted him. She grabbed Casey's arm, jerking her around to her side.
"There. That guy."
He was young, tall and thin, and the only thing out of the ordinary was the long trench coat he wore. It was at least eighty degrees out. He ducked down a side street, walking quickly, hands shoved in the pockets of his coat, head down.
Casey turned down the street, following him at a distance. The traffic was light and she felt conspicuous. "I'm going to pass him. It's too obvious we're following if we stay back."
"Okay. But go slow."
And she did, moving past him at a steady speed, then turning on her blinker a block down and taking another street. She drove out of sight, then made a U-turn, and killed her lights. They waited.
"There he is."
He walked past the intersection of Baumer and headed north on Oak. Casey let him get a block ahead, then she pulled away from the curb. "You see him?"
"Yeah. He's up ahead."
"If he stays on Oak, he'll have to cross Gaston."
"Cascades? You think he's headed there?"
"Could be."
Casey waited until the light turned on the cross street before moving into traffic. She eased between two cars, going with the flow as they passed him again. At Gaston, she turned right. "Watch him."
Leslie turned in the seat, looking out through the back. "I've got him."
Casey drove as slow as she could without causing attention. One block up Gaston, at Hall, she crossed lanes, moving to the left. "Can you still see him?"
"No. He's out of sight."
"Goddamn," she muttered. She sped through the intersection, turning left again, trying to get back to Oak. "Where the hell are we?"
"We're on Swiss. Keep going. It intersects back with Oak."
And there they saw him again as he jogged across Swiss and turned onto Cobb, going north.
"Cascades is one block up," Leslie said. "Should we call Hunter?"
"Let's wait. Hell, for all we know, he lives there. He could have just had a night on the town and is going home." She drove past Cobb, taking the next street up. She saw the waterfall and turned into the entryway for the Cascades complex, parking in the first spot they found and then killed the engine and lights. "Duck down."
They both did, sliding low in the seat. And within minutes, he came into view, crossing practically in front of them as he ducked into the shadows, moving silently among the shrubs.
"He doesn't live here," she said.
"No. But he knows his way around."
"Let's follow."
They got out, closing their doors silently. Without thinking, Casey took Leslie's arm, pulling her, urging her to go first. She followed, keeping to the shadows, following him. Leslie stopped up short and Casey did the same.
"He went between the buildings," she whispered.
Casey nodded, keeping a hand on Leslie's arm. "Let's give him a minute."
And they waited. Casey could feel the tension between them. She squeezed Leslie's arm and she turned toward her, eyebrows raised.
"Ready?"
Leslie nodded, moving again, following him. They found him easily. He was beside a shrub, staring into an apartment, his hand inside his pants.
"Jesus Christ," she muttered. "He's jacking off."
"I think that's what Peeping Tom's do."
Casey pressed against the building, pulling Leslie with her. They stood face to face, their eyes meeting. "You stay here," she said. "I'll go around the side, keep him from running."
Leslie nodded, never taking her eyes away. But when Casey turned to go, Leslie pulled her back. "Be careful."
Simple words, but damn if they didn't tug at her heart. Casey's gaze dropped to Leslie's lips and she had such an overwhelming urge to kiss her, she panicked. She backed up, nearly tripping over the shrub, only to regain her balance when Leslie grabbed her.
"You okay?"
Casey grinned. "I'm an idiot. Other than that, I'm fine." She slipped away then, going back the way they'd come and down the sidewalk, and coming up from behind him. When she had him in view, she slowed her pace, walking purposefully toward him.
"Hey, man. What's up?"
He jerked his head around and they stared at each other for a second, then he bolted, taking off toward Leslie. She pulled her weapon, pointing it directly at him.
"Don't move."
He stopped, turning, but Casey was there and she grabbed his shoulders, pushing him against the wall of the building. "No, you don't," she said. "You're not going anywhere."
"Who are you?"
"Police. And you're being very naughty." Casey stepped back, looking at him. "Christ, man, put that shit back in your pants, okay?"
"I...I didn't do nothing wrong."
"Yeah? You think it's okay to watch girls and jack off while you do it?"
"But she leaves her blinds open."
"Whatever." Casey twisted his hands behind his back. "What's your name?"
"John."
"Well, John, you're under arrest." She slipped her handcuffs around his wrists. "Let's start with indecent exposure," she said, glancing again to his unzipped pants.
"I...I didn't mean no harm, ma'am."
"Uh-huh. And what's your last name, John?"
"Doe."
"Doe? Are you kidding me? You're going to give me Doe? John Doe?"
"What do you mean? That's my name."
Casey turned him around but she felt Leslie move beside her, felt her light touch on her arm.
"John? I'm Detective Tucker. This is Detective O'Connor."
"What's your name?" he asked.
She smiled. "It's Leslie. She's Casey."
"Pretty names. Mine is John."
She nodded. "Yes. We're going to want you to go with us to the police station, John. Is that okay?"
He shrugged. "She's got me tied up. I don't know if she'll let me go."
Leslie glanced at Casey. "She'll let you go. In fact, she's going to drive us."
"Okay then. I guess I can go, Miss Leslie."
"Good." Leslie turned back to her. "Okay?"
Casey nodded. "I'll call Hunter."
Chapter Twenty
"And his name is John Doe? Are you kidding me?"
"He's...well, he's a little slow," Casey said.
"And he's willing to give DNA," Leslie added.
Tori spun around. "Does he know he's giving DN
A? If you said he's under arrest, has he requested an attorney?"
"No."
"So when you say he's slow, does he even know where he is?" Tori glared at Casey. "Christ, O'Connor, we can't screw this one up on a technicality."
"It's been by the book, Hunter." Leslie moved between them, feeling the need to defend Casey. "We told him he can request an attorney to be present. We told him he didn't have to talk to us. We told him he didn't have to volunteer DNA. It's by the book."
"Does he know why we want his DNA?"
"Yes."
Tori nodded. "Okay. I'm sorry. It's just--"
"It's been a long night for us all," Casey said. "Let's just do it and get it over with. Besides, he's not our killer."
"How can you be sure? Anybody can put on an act of being slow."
"I don't believe it's an act, Hunter. But we're getting the DNA, so that won't be an issue."
"And we can hold him overnight. I spoke with Mac. He called Emerson. They'll put a rush on it at the lab."
"Okay. Have we offered him a phone call?"
"Yes. He said he doesn't have anyone to call. We'll cut him loose in the morning."
Tori stared at them both, finally relaxing. "Okay. It's your case, your call." She turned to go, then stopped. "You let Malone know?"
"Yeah." She smiled. "He said to run it by you."
"Wonderful," she murmured with a sigh. "All right, I'm heading out. See you guys in the morning."
Casey slumped down in her chair as soon as Tori left, and Leslie couldn't stop herself from going to her. She slid her hands across her shoulders, squeezing gently, feeling the tense muscles under her fingers. She squeezed harder, eliciting a moan from Casey. A moan that caused a shiver to run up her spine. She closed her eyes for a moment, her hands still resting on Casey's shoulders. Then she moved, patting her arm in what she hoped was a friendly manner.
"Are you as tired as I am?" she asked lightly as she sat at her own desk.
"Mmm. And you could have put me to sleep with that backrub," Casey said, her eyes still closed.
Leslie watched her, unobserved, and she was free to stare. Casey's brow was furrowed, drawn. Her normally flawless complexion showed signs of stress tonight. Even her lips, usually curved upward in a smile, seemed lifeless. But then those blue eyes opened, catching her staring. They held her captive, refusing to let her go. Not that she tried to pull away. Because Casey's eyes were anything but lifeless.
"You should go home," Casey said quietly. "It's late."
"We've got--"
"I'll wait for Emerson. You go." She said, flexing her shoulders. "Michael's probably worried."
Leslie nearly flinched at the mention of her fiance's name. Those moments when she stared into Casey's eyes, she'd forgotten she had a fiance. She wondered if Casey mentioned his name on purpose, just to remind her. Or perhaps to remind Casey that he existed.
God, it was suddenly getting too complicated.
So she nodded, getting to her feet. She picked her keys up off her desk and slipped them into the pocket of her jeans. She'd left her purse in her car earlier in the night. "I guess I'll head out then. See you in the morning."
Casey only nodded, her eyes slipping closed again. Leslie watched her for a moment, then left. But at the door, Casey called to her.
"Les?"
"Hmm?"
"We can do this. It'll be okay."
The words were spoken softly, surely. And they took her by surprise. She didn't have to ask her to explain. She knew exactly what Casey meant.
And she was scared to death.
Chapter Twenty-One
Casey was about two blocks from their building when her cell rang. It was Hunter.
"Mac has something for us. Why don't you just meet me at the lab?"
"Where's Tucker?"
"She's not in yet."
"Okay. Well, I'll meet you out front. I'm just parking now."
She sat for a moment, wondering if she should call Leslie. Of course, it wasn't late. Not even eight yet. She got out, looking around for Tori. She saw her just coming out of the building when her cell rang again. This time, it was Leslie. She took a deep breath before answering.
"Hey, it's me."
She smiled, feeling silly. "Good morning."
"I'm stopping for coffee. Want some?"
"Yes, please."
"So, I'm running a little late then."
Casey grinned. "Coffee's a good excuse."
"No excuse. I didn't sleep well." She paused. "You?"
Casey hesitated too. "No, I didn't really sleep well either." She heard the quiet sigh that Leslie uttered, so she forced a smile to her face. "But it's the weekend. We'll catch up."
"Yeah. I suppose." She cleared her throat. "Okay, well I'm sorry I'm running late."
"No problem." She walked up to meet Tori, smiling a greeting. "Hunter and I are on our way to the lab."
"Results already?"
"Don't know yet."
"Okay. Well, I'll see you in a bit."
"Yep." She closed her phone, glancing at Tori. "That was Tucker."
"I see." She raised her eyebrows. "Just having a moment, are you?"
Casey ignored her. "She's getting us coffee."
"Great."
Casey noticed the smile Tori was trying to hide and she nudged her with her elbow. "Cut it out."
"I didn't say a word, O'Connor."
"You don't have to."
They walked on a few more steps in silence, then Tori turned to her. "So, are you completely insane or what?"
"Possibly. You should know."
"What's that supposed to mean?"
"Well, gee, Hunter, you've been here before. You tell me?"
"She's engaged."
"Yes, she is. So tell me what I'm supposed to do?"
"Sorry, kid. You're on your own on this one." She stopped before they got to the door. "But I know what you're going through, Casey. Just be careful."
And just like that, they'd talked about it without really talking about it. She and Hunter...damn, what a pair. Just like a couple of guys. She smiled as she followed behind Tori as they headed to Mac's office.
"Come on in," he called when Tori knocked.
"You're sure at it early, Mac," Casey said.
"Emerson called me at three this morning. He wanted me to check this." He shoved a graph across his desk. "It's a DNA sequence."
Tori stared at him, waiting.
"This is the DNA profile of the sample left at the murder scene. And this is the DNA profile of your John Doe."
Casey took the paper. "John Doe, that's his name. Not John Doe as in we don't know his name," she corrected.
"What? You're kidding me?"
Casey shrugged, looking at the paper. She then handed it to Tori. "We're just dumb cops, Mac," she said. "DNA sequence? We got a match or not?"
"We do not have an exact match, no." He took the paper from Tori and pointed to the chart. "But look at this. This is why Emerson called me. Not an exact match, but similar."
"Similar?"
"Without going into gene sequencing and losing you totally, in layman's terms, they're related. Father and son. Perhaps two brothers. Could even be an uncle to one. Related that way."
"You're serious? You can tell that from...just from this?" Tori asked, pointing to the graph he held.
"Yes. DNA profiling has come a long way. We've been able to break down the gene sequence for some years now. Why, if you give me--"
"Yeah, Mac, that's great," Tori said, interrupting him. "Let's get back to this."
"So John's not our killer, but someone he's related to is." Casey stood, pacing. "If he lives on the streets, it stands to reason that this relative does too." She stopped, staring at Tori. "Patrick?"
"Could we get that lucky?" She stood, too. "Let's go talk to John Doe." She nodded at Mac. "Thanks, man. Good job."
"Don't thank me. Emerson is one who stayed up here all night."
"So, you think if we push
him, he'll give it up?" Tori asked.
"I don't know. Like I said last night, he's a little slow, but he's not stupid."
"So good cop-bad cop might not work with him?"
They stood in the doorway, watching Leslie and Sikes. A cup of coffee sat on each desk. Leslie turned, as if sensing her watching.
"I think you should let Tucker talk to him."
"Why?"
"For one, he doesn't know you, and frankly, you're intimidating. And two, he took a liking to her. I think he'll talk to her."
"Okay. Your call. Sikes and I will observe though, if you don't mind."
"No, that's fine."
"Can't believe you're letting the new chick do this," Sikes said as he leaned against the wall.
Tori shrugged. "O'Connor thought it was best." She moved to the window, watching as John was led into the interrogation room. Sikes walked up beside her and adjusted the volume on the speakers, letting Leslie's voice drift into the room.
"Did you sleep well, John?" Leslie asked.
"Yes, Miss Leslie. It was soft." He looked at O'Connor. "Good morning, Miss Casey. Are you here to tie me up again?"
Casey smiled. "No, John. In fact, we're going to take you back down to the streets."
His face lit up. "Oh, goody."
"But first, we have a few questions. Then you can go. Is that all right with you? Can we ask you some questions?"
"I don't care."
Sikes nudged her arm. "He doesn't have a clue about his rights. A judge would throw this out in a heartbeat."
"We're not looking for him to testify. We just need some information."
"John, you live out on the street, right?" Leslie asked.
"Yes."
"Do you have a brother?"
He shook his head. "No. I don't have a brother."
"Does your father live with you, maybe?"
He made a face. "My father? I don't have a daddy."
"Okay. Well, is there anyone who lives with you?"
"You mean like my sister?"
