to work early this morning," he began.
I wanted to ask why, but I knew better. When taking a statement it was best to let the person tell you everything without interruptions first. You didn't want them to forget something important because they were distracted. The second time through was the time for questions.
"My door was ajar. I figured the cleaning crew was running late. I walked right in." He gave an annoyed grunt. "Sorry, I touched the doorknob."
I shrugged and made a circular motion with my finger indicating he should keep rolling. People would be amazed to know - despite countless hours of NYPD Blue - how many times evidence was fucked long before we got there.
"The place was like this." He spread his hands to indicate the mess. "I called nine-one-one, then Security.
Someone was searching for something."
Since he appeared to be done with his story, I asked, "What?"
"Do you still have the totem?"
I started, frowned, forced my hand to stay at my side and not creep to my pocket to check. I could feel the talisman there, sharp against my upper thigh. If Cadotte had been looking, he'd have been able to see it, too, although the small piece of stone could easily be mis-taken for a key or any other paraphernalia of the pocket.
"Not on me," I lied. Then, "You think someone was after the totem, so they trashed your office?"
"Nothing was taken. I checked."
"Perhaps you gave a student one too many zeros."
"I don't give zeros."
"Too many Fs then."
"I don't give those, either."
"Well, sign me up, Professor. Sounds like my kind of class."
His lips twitched. I was glad to see him coming out of that frozen, zombielike state. "Who else knows I had the totem?"
Myself. Cadotte. Clyde.
I frowned. The only one of us who didn't know I had the totem now was Clyde. But what possible reason would he have for trashing Cadotte's office? Clyde might not like him but wouldn't risk his job just to be pissy.
Then I remembered the paper Cadotte had signed for the totem and that it was missing. Hell, anyone with access to the evidence room, or the stolen evidence, could have done this. But why?
"Jessie?"
I raised my gaze. "Maybe the person who lost it was searching for it?"
"And they would come to me instead of you, why?"
Hmm, good point.
"Who knows that I had the thing besides you and me?" he repeated.
"Clyde." I shrugged. "And anyone with access to the evidence room."
Quickly I explained about the receipt, the evidence log, and the missing evidence.
Cadotte gave a long, slow blink. "That makes no sense."
I had to agree. "This was probably an unrelated incident."
"Why my office and no one else's? Why take nothing but look at everything?"
My gaze swept the room. There was an awful lot of paper. Books, notes.
"Axe you working on something?"
Cadotte had been staring at the ground, fingering his glasses, and scowling. "Huh?"
He glanced up and I started. For a second there his dark, angry eyes had reminded me of the wolf I had seen in the clearing last night.
I rubbed my own eyes, and when I tried again, all I saw in his was curiosity. Why on earth would I remember a rabid wolf when I looked into Cadotte's eyes?
Because I was way too tired to be working, way too deprived to be anywhere near him. 1 had a hard time thinking beyond how he tasted, how he smelled, how he had appeared naked in the moonlight and fully clothed on my porch with his tongue between my breasts.
Yet ever since I'd walked into this room, he had given no indication that we were any more than acquaintances. Perhaps in his mind we were. He probably brought women to orgasm with his kiss alone all the time.
Since the idea of him touching anyone else as he had touched me made me angry - how crazy was that?
I couldn't even bring myself to call him by his first name - I forced myself back to the matter at hand.
Despite all evidence to the contrary, I was a cop, not a silly, hormonal teenager.
"Are you working on a paper? A book? A theory? Something a colleague might want to take a peek at?
Steal? Screw up?"
He shook his head. "I just finished a book."
"You wrote a book?" Although I had asked, that he'd actually written an entire book made me gape.
Cadotte laughed. "I've written several. That's what professors do when they aren't teaching. Publish or perish. Ever hear of it?"
No.