“In the beginning, it was hard,” Emerson said. “Over time, I learned to put some distance between the cases and me. Death sucks, which is why I don’t stress over the little things. But with Claire-Marie, it’s different. This is personal and I can’t make the pain or the guilt go away. I’m angry, too, and I’m going to find him.”
“Don’t feel guilty, Em. You warned us. You even gave Claire-Marie your mace. It’s not your fault. I’m gonna spend a few more days here, then I’m coming home.” Danielle hung up and Emerson shifted her gaze out the window.
She wasn’t making the progress she’d hoped for and the man she loved had a giant target on his back.Oh, yeah, and he’s also an assassin. And I’m going to meet my brother’s killer. I’m no better than my vigilante boyfriend.
Some days, the department was busier than others. Today, there was a full house. The walls were closing in on her. She couldn’t think. She couldn’t stay there and focus. She shut down, collected her laptop, and checked in with Nikki. “I’ll be working from home for the rest of the day. Call or text if you need me.”
On her way out, Emerson went into the Property and Evidence room, found the boxes from Claire-Marie’s condo, and took the bagged cell phone, along with two pairs of disposable gloves.
Twenty minutes later, Emerson was staring at her corkboard wall of case photos in her home office. She had pinned pictures from each of the crime scenes, along with pictures of Parker and Casey. She removed the pictures of Parker and tossed them on her desk.
Her phone rang with a call from Nikki. “Tell me you have good news.”
“I just spoke to a woman who said she met Casey at The Dungeon. She said he didn’t hit on her, but he did give her a business card. She wasn’t interested and didn’t give him her number, but—get this—she ran into him at her neighborhood breakfast shop where she was picking up bagels with her boyfriend. She said he approached her like all ‘hey, what a coincidence’, but when her boyfriend walked over, he left.”
“Did she describe him?”
“Blond with a beard and mustache. It’s definitely him. That’s his M.O.”
“That’s great news.”
“Did you add me to the list at The Dungeon tonight?” Nikki asked.
“I completely forgot. I’ll do that as soon as we hang up.”
“What time tonight?” Nikki asked.
“Nine.”
“If he shows, we bring him in for questioning,” Nikki said before hanging up.
Emerson texted Stryker. “Can you put Detective Nikki Cardoso on the list for the club tonight? First name only. Thanks.”
Seconds later, her phone rang, and she answered without looking at her screen. “That was fast.”
“Detective, it’s Lyle Barnham.”
“Oh, hey, what’s up?”
“My story is done and my editor wants me to get your final approval. I’m at the police station. Are you here?”
“I’m working from home.”
“Can I swing by?”
Eager to ask him some pointed questions, she gave him her address and hung up, then refocused her efforts on the wall of pictures.C’mon, there’s a clue here that I’m overlooking.The longer she stared, the more frustrated she became. Casey always wore a mask and dressed in long-sleeved shirts and pants, so if he had any tats, they were well hidden. She studied each of the victims, searching for a clue she hadn’t seen before.
“Hey, baby.”
Stryker’s deep voice startled her and she whizzed around.
“Whoa, what’s got you so jumpy?”
“I didn’t hear you come home. What are you doing here?”
“I forgot my wallet, or I left it at my place after I paid the repairman.”
“You had it when we left.”