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“We’ll get more,” Tate said. “I need to go by the hospital and find out if our victim came out of surgery okay.”
“I called,” Wade said. “He did survive the surgery, and the doctor thinks he’s going to make a full recovery.”
A little bit more of Tate’s guilt lifted, and he told them about the latest text, a genuine clue to what was driving the killer.
“Now if the chief comes out of surgery okay, then we can call this a good day,” Cameron said. “Wade and I will go check on him, then get more groceries, after we eat.”
“And I would like to swing by the Red Cross Center,” Cameron said, and then suffered their teasing in good-natured silence. He liked Laura Doyle and wasn’t ashamed to admit it. “I have a method in my madness,” he added. “Now that all the shouting has died down, I thought we might talk to the people there and see if someone might have seen what happened to Nola, or even have seen the killer making an escape. It’s worth a shot.”
“What about the news crews? Have they left town yet?” Nola asked.
“Unfortunately, no,” Tate said. “They’re all over the place. Murder always makes the news. When they get wind of a copycat killer, it’s going to get even crazier.”
“I can’t believe that all this started because of a flood,” she muttered.
“Actually, it began in Iowa, because of a tornado,” Tate said. “When the Mississippi flooded, he—” Tate stood abruptly. “Oh, man, how did I miss that?”
“Miss what?” Cameron asked.
“One of the last things Mooney said was that he’d never be as good as the Stormchaser because he didn’t have Katrina. I thought he was talking about a woman, but what if he was talking about Hurricane Katrina?”
Wade jumped up and headed for his laptop. “So how does that fit in with the whole revenge scenario?”
Nola frowned. “It makes no sense. Why would he want to kill survivors?”
“Without knowing who he is, we can’t really answer that,” Tate said.
Silence followed, each of them lost in thoughts of what was driving the killer.
“Do we have dessert?” Cameron asked to break the mood.
“If Wade didn’t eat all the cookies, yes. If Wade ate all the cookies, no.”
Tate eyed his partner and smiled. “I’d say the answer is no.”
“We’ll bring back some ice cream,” Wade said. “What’s your poison, Nola?”
“She likes rocky road,” Tate said.
Nola rolled her eyes. “He asked me, not you. My tastes could have changed.”
“Well, did they?” he asked.
“No, but—”
He grinned. “Then I rest my case.”
“I’ll clean up. You guys go do your thing before it gets too late. Places don’t stay open here as late as they do in the city.”
When Nola began carrying plates to the sink, Tate stopped her, took her by the shoulders and aimed her at the living room.
“You cooked. I clean. Put your feet up and enjoy.”
She didn’t argue, and within minutes Winger and Luckett were gone and Tate was doing dishes.
She watched him working, remembering how focused he’d always been at everything he did. She guessed it was what made him good at his job, being able to focus on details and the characteristics of the criminals they were trying to catch. He’d always been so faithful. If she hadn’t been so young back when they parted, she would have realized something terrible had happened to him to make him feel the need to escape from Queens Crossing and that she needed to give him the benefit of the doubt. If only she’d trusted her heart and not her head, none of this would be happening.
The truth was that she wanted to make love with him. Not many people got a second chance at happiness with the love of their life, and she had come too close to dying to waste hers. As soon as the last dish went in the dishwasher, she stood up.
