anyone with his clothes?" Kallie chuckled, "Or he liked doing something for himself? Hell, maybe he was a control freak."
"Didn't get that from any of the interviews."
"No, you're right. The picture I'm getting of Treyson was he liked order but was willing to let others lead. Ava arranged multiples. Chloe protected him from the world by turning off the internet and keeping their relationship about peace and quiet, and Garrett took the lead in their relationship. Treyson had built himself a well-rounded life."
"But it wasn't perfect because he wanted to bring someone else in." For some reason that fact stuck in his mind.
"True. So, we keep digging." Kallie pointed to the side of the street. "Coffee shop with a drive through. I don't know about you, but I'm dying over here."
"There is a better shop about a mile up. Can you survive?" He'd been going to The Perk for years. They knew his order.
"Don't mess with my caffeine levels, Detective, or you'll see a very ugly side of me." Kallie thumbed through her notebook as she talked. "Do you know when the ME's report is going to come in? We should have leap-frogged the other cases down at the morgue, right?"
"Yeah. The medical examiner's policy is they bag and tag and then bring them in, but schedule the autopsies for the following day, so they should be doing it now. We'll get the preliminary info by tonight. The pathology and toxicology reports won't be back for weeks even with the pressure that is coming down on this case."
"What is the standard here?"
"The backlog is ridiculous, so for normal situations, you're looking at a month for the final pathologist reports."
"Wow, there are going to be some seriously pissed off detectives and families when Treyson jumps to the front of the line."
"Exactly. Why is his murder any more important than someone else’s family member? This is actually the first time I've seen a case bumped to the front of the line, but then again, I work in The Desert. Our victims aren't affluent nor are they usually high profile."
Kallie turned in her seat. "They matter, though."
"They damn sure do."
"Why is it called The Desert?"
"When the gangland wars started back in the late eighties, the detectives started calling the streets deserted. Nobody walked the streets. The place was a deadly ghost town. A desert. It stuck. Hell, Channel Five did an exposé on the area about a year ago. The gentrification of the dock area is pushing a lot of new money right up against The Desert's boundaries. There have been issues."
He pulled into the coffee shop drive-through and ordered them both an extra-large caffeine injection. Kallie handed him a fiver. "Nah, you keep that. You fed me last night. This is the least I could do."
"Detective King, are you trying to get on my good side?"
"Would it get me invited for dinner again?"
"There is a very real possibility that could happen."
"Then my answer is hell, yes." He laughed and took a long draw off his coffee. "What is the address of the dry cleaner’s?"
"Um… hold on. 5725 East Halstead Avenue. That's near Richland, right?" She glanced at him as she took a sip of her coffee.
"Yep. Been studying our fair city?"
Kallie snorted and deadpanned, "That's me, a student at heart."
"Nothing wrong with wanting to know where the hell you're at. I grew up here, and I still need a fucking GPS sometimes."
"I'd wager you don't for your precinct."
"That would be correct." There wasn't a nook or cranny in The Desert he didn't know about.
"Who owned the warehouse that was torched the night Samuel died?"
"As far as I could tell, some kind of small holding company. Smartsmith, LLC. I have the tech team running down who is behind the organization, but right now, there are no ties to Treyson."
"Do you always get tech support?" She flipped to the first open page in her notebook. "What is the name of the company, again?"
"It is in my notebook, after the list of apps on the phone, about seven or eight pages in. I don't usually get tech support. I'm thrilled to have it with this one, though."
She grabbed his notebook and opened it. His phone vibrated in his coat pocket. He palmed it and activated the speaker. "King."
"I need an update." Lt. Davidson's voice whipped over the connection.
"We've interviewed all the people he was in a relationship with, the man's wife and his father, plus the board of directors. We're on our way to check