Kate stared at her teammate and shook her head. “No, I don’t think these emails are connected at all to the drive-bys,” she said, her mind immediately puzzling away on it. “How could they be?”
“Hey, hang on a minute,” Colby said. “Does somebody want to fill me in here? What’s happening?”
Rodney spoke up first. “She got another email.”
He turned to look at Kate and asked, “Another picture of you?”
“No,” she said, shaking her head. “That’s what’s weird about it. It’s not of me at all, but it looks like it’s another bridge scene and potentially the aftermath of another suicide.”
At that, Colby’s eyebrows shot right up. When she pointed and cast the second emailed picture on the wall screen again, he turned. He moved closer to it and said, frowning, “That’s the Second Narrows Bridge.”
She shrugged. “And it’s a photo of a pair of men’s work boots, so that would imply a man had gone off the bridge.”
“That’s the theory,” Colby said. “I don’t know how many people planning to commit suicide would put somebody else’s shoes there.”
“But why send that photograph to me?” Kate asked.
“And then you have to consider the message,” Rodney said.
“What message?” Colby asked.
“We didn’t see it at first,” Kate said, “but Rodney just saw now, on that initial photograph. Written at the bottom by the railing it says ‘finally.’ And on today’s photo, there’s no message on the photograph, at least none that we can see, but ‘maybe not’ is in the subject line of the email.”
“Finallyyou’re involved, and then number two photo, without you in it, somaybe notinvolved?” Lilliana said, thoughtfully tossing out ideas. There was a moment of silence, as everybody stared at each other.
Then Kate groaned. “Please tell me that it means that they thought I would be involved in the investigation of the suicides because I was seen at the first and then, when I didn’t show up at the second one, they assumed that I’m not involved.” Her gaze went from one to the other. “The only reason I would be involved is—”
And they all jumped in. “They weren’t suicides.”
*
Simon’s Tuesday Morning
Simon woke upTuesday morning, his head full, his mouth dry, his tongue swollen, seemingly wrapped in fuzzy cloth.Uh-oh. He had been watching for weird symptoms to see if they were precursors to visions.Hopefully not. He got up, brushed his teeth thoroughly, and had a hot shower. When he stepped back out again, he still felt a bit woolly-headed, but, once he was dressed and headed to his kitchen for coffee, he hoped for the best, though he had a long day ahead of him. He had barely seated himself at the kitchen table when his phone buzzed. Seeing it was his ex, he put it on Silent and shoved it off to the side.
He hadn’t even checked his emails or messages yet, something he needed to do. But this time in the morning, with a cup of coffee, needed to be honored and appreciated before the day closed in on him and went to shit right afterward. He clicked on the news and checked that everything in his world was fine. Only as he heard word of another suicide did his heart stop, and slowly he looked at the scene, so similar to what Kate had seen yesterday and had shared with him. It was a different bridge and a different pair of shoes but the same theory, and he knew she would have an ugly day because of it. He immediately grabbed his phone, turned the sound back on, and sent her a note.Sorry, just heard there was another suicide. Don’t let it get to you.
And he let it go at that.
As soon as he started his workday, his papers all packed up in his portfolio, he headed on foot to the one building he was still considering buying. He hadn’t heard back from the Realtor. It could be a done deal or a dead deal; he wasn’t at all sure, but he had several meetings he had to accomplish with his own builders, as they rehabbed other projects currently underway.
There was never a time when he had nothing to do. He also needed to do some banking, and that was always fun. Moving money is what he called it, but people had to be paid, and people of all kinds needed to be kept in the loop. Paychecks were important, and he couldn’t stand to see anybody not getting what they were due. Plus, a lot of people just needed help. Speaking of which, he thought about a couple he knew on the streets, as well as a women’s shelter, that could always use a little more money. He added a few notes to his To Do list on his cell, then looked at all of it and winced. “It’ll be a damn long day again,” he muttered.
Still, if need be, he had leftover spaghetti and meatballs, even some salad and garlic bread too. He shook his head at that. He was worth millions and was happy because he had leftovers for later. He sagged. “One of these days you’ll have to start looking after yourself.” It was so reminiscent of what he told Kate over and over again that he laughed. “Fine, but, if she ever finds out, you’re in trouble.”
Chapter 3
Kate’s Wednesday Morning
Progress had cometo a dead stop on the drive-by case. Kate couldn’t locate the vehicle. Reese hadn’t found anything either, which frustrated both of them. None of the current witnesses had anything to say, other than it was an older faded-blue truck. Kate groaned at that and headed toward the morgue. It’s not that she had a gruesome bent by any means, but she liked to see the damage for herself. She liked to see and to understand the angles and to figure out in her head just how somebody did this… and why.
Rarely did she get the answers that she needed, but it did give her the motivation to keep going and to find the asshole who thought life had so little value that they could just shoot somebody down in the street in broad daylight, for no other reason potentially then just because they were there. Reese was still working on the victims involved, from years ago and from the current shooting, looking to see if she could find any connection between the cases, but, so far, nothing had popped. And Kate was afraid that, as time went by, nothing would happen with it—until the next time this guy decided to come through with another drive-by shooting.
She had no way to know for sure that these drive-by cases were connected, but she liked the concept. She really liked the idea, but what she needed were facts. Cold hard evidence was the only thing that would help in a case like this right now. If only she could get what she needed. As she neared the hospital, she saw the flashing lights and heard the sirens, as vehicles headed off in another direction. “Crime just never takes a break, does it?”
But then she also knew, from working in a variety of law enforcement departments, that somebody was always out there, causing chaos for somebody else. Not everything ended up with a murder, but almost all cases ended up as a crime. That kept everybody busy, even if they didn’t want to be. By the time she made it to the morgue and headed to the autopsy room, she stopped just outside, looking for Dr. Smidge.
He looked up, caught sight of her, and narrowed his gaze.