for me in all ways, when my father died. I simply didn’t have the emotional capacity to push forward with him at that point. I don’t know if I ever will again, but we’re not enemies. And we’re not all business. We’re friends. “Can’t it be both?” I ask.
“You want a favor.”
“I do, but now it sounds very dirty of me.”
“I’m pretty okay with you being dirty, but we both know that’s not where this is going.” He doesn’t give that comment time to be awkward. I don’t think it would be anyway. It’s hard to explain why that is when it would be from someone else. It just is. That’s the thing with me and Wade; in fighting crime, horror movies, and occasional Chinese food outings, we are forever united. He proves this by saying, “I’ll help. What do you got?”
“A case that feels bigger than the case itself.”
“Any DNA?”
I like that he doesn’t need an explanation of why it’s bigger than itself. He gets it. He knows what I mean. “No,” I say. “Not yet. This is three days fresh and I inherited it from a detective that suddenly went MIA, which is why I thought you could help me cut through the red tape to get what I need quickly.”
“Is his disappearance connected?” Worry has now found its way into his tone. Law enforcement takes a threat to law enforcement seriously. “What are you into right now, Sam?”
“The detective who was handling this case before me supposedly asked for a transfer to Houston, but his phone is disconnected and it isn’t pinging. In and of itself, that feels off, but he generally did a good job working the case. He did miss a DNA grab.”
“You think that was intentional?”
“Based on how hard he worked the case from all other directions I tend to say no, but despite all that care he put into the case, he didn’t even stay behind to brief me.”
“It could be a personal problem. A cheating spouse. A sick family member. Any of those things apply?”
“I don’t know yet. Lang’s trying to track him down and figure things out. The captain doesn’t seem concerned, though that was before we found out his phone isn’t pinging. But the detective in question isn’t due to report to Houston for two weeks, so a lot could happen in that time.”
“What’s your gut?” he asks. “What are you thinking?”
“I’m thinking I need to jump ahead of forensics and make sure I know as much about who I’m dealing with that I can possibly know. The good news is that Roberts, the missing detective in question, collected a ton of necessary data I’m already diving into.”
“Does Roberts have family or close friends in Houston?”
“Unless it’s a friend we don’t know about, a new woman, or some long-lost cousin, no. His ex-wife is here. His parents are dead. We went by his house. It’s cleaned out, which should make me feel better about the idea of a decisive action, but it doesn’t.”
He’s silent a moment. “Sam—”
“No,” I say, reading his mind easily. “I don’t think he was involved in my father’s dirty deeds, but they were friends. I can’t rule it out.” I leave out the part about this killer feeling like a familiar killer or my thoughts on that connecting him to my father. Anything to do with my father will have Wade at my doorstep.
The truth is that Wade and Lang suffocated me for two solid weeks after my father died until I couldn’t take it anymore. I needed space in a bad way and before I forgot that I’m the badass with a weapon and brain I know how to use, and use well.
“I’ll make some calls,” he offers. “I’ll find out if anything was about to come down on Roberts.”
“Thank you.” I sip my wine and then set my glass down. “Now,” I say, moving on, “about the actual case. I think this guy has killed before and will kill again.”
“Based on what?”
“The scene was clean, really clean. You asked about DNA. I don’t think we’re going to have some hidden source of DNA suddenly pop up.”
“What do you have?”
“A glove print, which we both know is nothing, and a possible, extremely weak description, along with a poem he stuffed in the victim’s mouth.”
“A poem,” he notes. “I see why this one landed on your desk. What’s the poem mean?”
“That’s a subjective question, but it’s about destiny.”
“Sounds like they have a history, the killer and