someone stole it, didn’t know how to handle all that horsepower, and it ended up in the river."
"Sounds about right. I've got my guys going over the bank up above, but with the recent snow, there isn't much chance of finding anything."
"Appreciate it."
"No problem, I'll add it to the number of favors you owe me."
"Without a doubt. See you Sunday." He disconnected the call and dropped into his chair.
"They found the McLaren?"
"Lodged in a riverbank, buried in sediment."
She sat down. "Damn. Okay, so traffic cameras?"
"It's a possibility. We can call tech and see if they have any cameras, but if I were a criminal, I wouldn't drive that flashy ass car through the city."
"Yeah, back roads. It never hurts to ask, though."
"Concur. Tech's number is on the directory. Give them a call while I run down Treyson's appointments on Wednesday."
"Roger that." She grabbed the laminated piece of paper from the top of the desk and picked up the desk phone.
Brock sat straight, popping his back and stretching his arms. Whoever said a cop’s life was full of action and adventure had no fucking concept of what they actually did. Hours upon hours of following threads to find dead ends. Days of tracking minute details only to realize the information was irrelevant or overcome by events. A detective's life was ninety-nine percent Blood Hound and one percent Rottweiler.
He glanced at his watch. Fuck, they'd worked through lunch and past dinner. "How far have you gotten?"
Kallie glanced up at him and blinked. "I've worked through the last meeting of the day. You?"
Brock opened his mouth to answer but snapped it shut when he looked up. One of the beat cops escorted a bicycle courier across the bullpen toward them.
"This dude said he can't release this shit to anyone but Detective Brock King."
Brock stood.
"You'll need to sign for it... after I see identification, please."
The man looked absolutely ridiculous with his helmet perched over his knit skull cap. How anyone rode a bike in this weather was beyond him. He reached for his creds and flipped them for the guy.
"Cool. Sign?" He handed Brock a tablet.
He scribbled his name and watched as the man produced envelope after envelope from his leather tote. The man turned and left with the patrolman right on his ass.
"What the fuck?" Brock opened one of the manila envelopes stacked neatly on Jordan's desk. Kallie moved over to look at the paper. Brock scanned the document. "These are the guys who Sebastian Treyson thinks hate him enough to come after his son."
The briefs were concise. The conflict between Sebastian and the person named. The date it happened, the consequences, which, going by the file in his hand, was financial ruin for the other party, and then... Transcribed voice messages and texts, each threatening to ruin Treyson.
"How many are there?"
Kallie did a quick count. "Twenty-seven."
Holy hell. Twenty-fucking-seven more suspects. This insanity had to stop. They needed to work the man's last twenty-four hours. These other distractions... fuck him... He raked his hand through his hair and drew a deep breath, thinking out loud more than directing. "Okay. We need to ask Davidson to release those extra bodies now. We can have them run these to ground and look for ties to Samuel—recency, proximity, opportunity. We'll absorb any that pan out, but if we start chasing this, we'll never get through what we already have." He glanced at his watch. "Let's talk to Davidson."
Kallie motioned to the document envelopes. "What do you want to do with this?"
"Bring them with us." They loaded up and made their way to Davidson's office.
"Damn it, I see you two more than I see my wife," Davidson snarked as they walked in.
"Yeah, well I won't tell her if you don't." Kallie returned fire without missing a beat.
The woman fit this precinct. A perfect fit.
"What is this?"
"Twenty-seven additional suspects."
Davidson cocked his head at them and narrowed his eyes. "The fuck did you just say?"
"Treyson's old man. These are the people he believes would be willing to cross lines to get back at him. We need someone to clear these or let us know they are a legit avenue to investigate."
"All right. Hansen and Bettis just cleared their last case. I'll give this to them. You'll need to bring them up to speed. Where are you at with the investigation?"
"We're working our way through his last day. The meetings..." He glanced at Kallie.
"I'm working that now. The first meeting in the morning was a meeting to review the forecast