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“Thanks, Broussard,” Stokes grumbled. “That’s all we need. A serial killer.”
“Don’t shoot the messenger,” Annie said. “We’ve got two men missing and a dead body, all white males from the same age-group. I’m just saying.”
“Let’s not get ahead of ourselves,” Nick said. “For the moment, these are three separate cases. Let’s keep it simple but keep our minds open.
“We’ll set up the conference room. I want to lay these cases out side by side on the whiteboards. Then, if there is a connection, we’re more apt to see it right away. And if there’s not, we’ll see that, too.”
He glanced at Annie and nodded for her to follow him down the hall to his office.
“Serial killer,” he muttered as they went.
“That wasn’t my point,” Annie snapped, her patience worn thin by the day and by Chaz Stokes. The adrenaline that had carried her through the afternoon had run out. She wanted to lie down and take a nap, right there on the spot, but didn’t even dare to express her exhaustion to Nick lest he seize the opportunity to tell her she shouldn’t have come back to work. She had to thank her lucky stars he was too preoccupied at the moment to notice.
“I know that wasn’t your point,” he said, holding the door for her. “But think about it. We’ve got an unidentified body and two missing persons, all white males in the same age-group. How long before some true crime podcast junkie jumps on that and sets fire to social media? It’s probably happening as we speak.”
“It’s not like you to care about such things.”
“I don’t care for myself, but I don’t like it for Gus,” he said, shaking his head. “Bad enough that he had to come back to this job at all, but now this mess…He doesn’t need the pressure. He should be home driving Arnell crazy, not dealing with multiple high-profile cases while eating steak with the governor. He’s gonna end up having a heart attack.”
“I guess we’d better solve these cases, then.”
“I want an ID on that body by the end of the day tomorrow.”
“If it’s your Mr. Mercier, hopefully the dental records solve that mystery,” Annie said. “And with all the local news coverage, if some other poor soul from the area has gone missing, we should be hearing about it. If this guy isn’t from the area and he just got dumped there, that’s a problem.”
“That seems unlikely, given the location,” Nick said, taking his seat behind his desk. “That’s a spot locals go to. It’s not near a major highway.”
“Fingers crossed he’s a local, then, as odd as that is to say. I’m just relieved he’s not my guy.” She checked her watch and sighed. “If we’re done, I’m gonna go pick up Justin.”
She started to turn toward the door.
“You leave that drug house to Deebo.”
His words spun her around and pulled her back. She felt her temper stir and rise. “That’s why you asked me back here. To tell me that.”
He had already turned his attention to his computer screen, dismissing her.
“This is my case,” she said. “I’ve got a missing person possibly involved in drugs, but I’m supposed to avoid the neighborhood drug house? How is that supposed to work?”
“Like this,” he said, not looking up. “You don’t mess around with that house until Deebo does the intel. That’s an order.”
“Is that an order you would be giving to anyone else in this office or just me?”
“Just you,” he admitted.
“That’s not right.”
“Too bad. Deal with it.”
“Nick—”
“Don’t argue with me, Antoinette.”
Now he looked up at her, dead serious. Any sane person would have shut their mouth and backed away.
“Me, I don’t want to have this conversation twice today,” he said. “Deebo is our drug task force guy. He’s got the best contacts in that world. He can deal with the drug house. That’s a sound management decision, and that’s that.”
Annie weighed her options, not that she really had any. She wasn’t going to win this fight, and pushing back would only make him dig in.
