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“You could get in trouble,” I warned.
She blew out a scoffing breath between her nearly closed lips. “What’s new this week? These aren’t originals, are they?”
“Do I look stupid?”
“You really want me to answer that?” she asked, reaching for part of the file. “You know, the investigation on this case is complete shit.”
“What?”
“You think I haven’t glanced at it? Partner? Of course, I peeked at it to see where they’re at.”
Looking for the witness list, I slipped an envelope with color copies beneath the folder as I moved things aside to study.
“Those the scene photos?” she asked, noticing the shuffle.
“Yeah.”
She reached out a hand. “I won’t make you look, but maybe, I can see something.”
“I’ve see them. In reality and in print,” I said, sliding them across the pitted table. I’d witnessed the scene over and over in my nightmares. “I just don’t want to see them again. You know, every time I look at this I get so angry…”
I shook my head at the utter unfairness. Last week’s murder case was done and dusted. It hadn’t been difficult to find the perpetrator, even get a confession, and close the case. We’d still have court, and there were forensic details to finalize between now and then, but it was pretty much wrapped.
The guy pissed me off. More than that. He was a spoiled brat who hadn’t gotten what he wanted, so he’d killed two innocent people in a vengeful tantrum. So pointless. A couple was dead because he was a spoiled fuck.
We’d nailed plenty of criminals in cases that were harder, too.
But Melonie’s? Nothing. Every time Anderson and I closed a case, helpless fury ripped through me because the most important investigation of my life had never been solved. Worse, I had a gnawing suspicion the murder might be connected to my primary investigation at the time, though I had no idea how. Plenty of people had reason to want revenge on me.
“You know what I don’t get?” Anderson said twenty minutes later, her brow furrowed. “It was mid-morning, in a busy, locked-down building. And no one saw or heard anything? All visitors allowed in were accounted for. And why isn’t there security footage. A high-profile, international brokerage firm like that? They’d have cameras, but they all had a mysterious malfunction. Bullshit. It doesn’t even look like they interviewed half the people on the fucking floor,” she swore, tossing down a paper.
“She was found near the copy room at the back of the building. It’s loud there. They’re assuming a suppressor was used.”
“Who the fuck was the ME? Not Felix,” she swore, a sure sign she was worked up. She was already dialing the phone before I could stop her. “Yeah, Feelie. You busy?”
Obviously, he replied something snarky because she rolled her eyes.
“Yeah, I know you’re always busy. Look. I need you to look up a case you guys did—no, not you. But it was your lab.”
She gave him the case number and waited.
“Were the slugs from a .22?” she asked. “It’s not in the file, and I’m guessing no one even bothered to ask why, like fucking rookies. There’s no way you guys didn’t retrieve them.” I heard Felix ask her something, though she didn’t have her phone on speaker. She practically growled while her fingers tapped on the table. “Yeah, I’m worked up. Seeing this crap, half-ass work is messing up my Sunday.”
I swallowed hard, knowing they were talking about the woman I’d loved. I could barely stomach it. And my gut roiled as the vision of Vale on that table exploded into my thoughts. What the fuck? Why was I seeing her and not Melonie? Not that I wanted to think of either!
It was only through steely will, I didn’t vomit while I scrubbed my hand over my eyes as if I could erase the vision.
“You okay there, partner?” Anderson asked, pocketing her cell.
“Fine.” So not fine.
“Day…”
“You can’t be hardened to this shit,” I told her, deflecting.
“No. No, I’m not. Plus my boyfriend is surrounded by death 24/7—well more like 16/7, I guess. We have a lot of wild sex. There’s nothing like kinky kinks for catharsis.”
“Fuck. TMI, Anderson. And definitely not the right moment.”
