Page 53 of Copper

The universe is a dark-haired beauty that scrambled my eggs for breakfast this morning and made our little family matching cereal bowls with our names on them at a paint-your-own pottery joint last week.

I flip the folder closed and hand it to Mitchell, smiling. “Tell Coleson to file this with the other unknown open cases. Put it in the basement.” The basement is what we call still active cold cases where we have no idea where to look. It’s reserved for cases we’ll get to if we notice a pattern in other crimes. The basement refers to the old manilla folders in filing cabinets in the literal basement from the time before computers. Now, we have a cloud file by that name.

Lucy’s told me she won’t kill again unless it’s self-defense. Nobody seems to give two shits about the whereabouts of Beck Lenin, and I can’t say I’m surprised. They’ll have nothing to connect Lucy to any of this except for a lone hair from Todd Daniel’s house that will never be matched with her unless she’s arrested and has a sample of her DNA taken.

I took the hair out of pending evidence without anyone seeing it. Sure, they can still see the results in the system, but there will be nothing to hold up for the jury to prove there was ever a hair. There’s nothing tangible to show. I could lose my job for it. It would be a huge scandal, and I could even go to prison for it, but I don’t think anyone will ever piece any of this together. Given the fact the victims were all criminals, it’ll blow over in a few weeks when another crime is committed or something newsworthy happens.

I don’t regret driving to another suburb and throwing the bag that contained the hair into a dumpster behind a bakery. The hair itself floated away in the same alley after I released it from the bag. Why I didn’t notice it was a gorgeous copper color when I looked at it before, I don’t know. Maybe I noticed, but my brain wouldn’t let me connect the dots. I’m obviously blind to a lot when it comes to that woman.

If this is the worst thing I do in my career, come after me. If someone asked what happened to the evidence, I’ll say it’s a damn shame the evidence was lost.

The only other person who knows anything is Ellen Quarry, and to point her finger at Lucy would be to expose her own role in Beck’s disappearance. Lucy assured me that Ellen has no desire to upset her marriage with Jalen and go looking for trouble. She didn’t break that day I went to her house and questioned her. If I placed bets, I’d bet she’ll never speak of word about it for the rest of her life unless she tells Jalen. Lucy and I wish nothing but happiness and a quiet life with plenty of children for them both.

The only other soul that may suspect something is Cheryl because Lucy borrowed some fentanyl from her the day Murphy died. If she suspects something, she’s not talking. Her twin boys are safe.

“The basement? You sure, boss?”

“Given who he was, are we really going to dedicate resources to this? We’ll keep it open until we notice a pattern and can get more evidence. Otherwise, let Chicago or the feds handle it if they ever get a hair up their asses. In my opinion, it’s already been taken care of.”

I get up from the seat, grab the box off my desk, and shove the ring in my pants. I stretch like I don’t have a care in the world. And I don’t. Even if I was blind to Lucy’s charms, Mickey sleeps at our feet every night and loves Lucy. If my dog is sure about her, that’s all I need.

“Where are you going?” Mitchell asks with a smile.

I smile and pat my pocket containing the ring. “You know, I think I’ll take Lucy to Chicago for a romantic evening after all. I need to stop and get some flowers. I’m going to ask the woman I’m in love with to marry me, even if it is fifteen years too late.”

Nothing in the world is going to stop me from making a life with her. Not Beck Lenin. Not George Cannon. Not Murphy Beckett. Not even my wounded pride. She’s my girl. Always has been, and always will be. I’m going to give my girl everything she deserves in life.

Marriage. Happiness. A child we’ll conceive together.

Mitchell smiles and taps the door frame as he leaves. “I don’t think it’s ever too late, boss.”

The End