He sat back and glared at her. “What if I don’t want to?”
“Too damn bad,” she said cheerfully. “Our forensic techs got into Ken’s laptop. Apparently they’ve found some interesting chats.”
He nodded, stood, and said, “Good. The question is whether they are local or not.”
“Well, hopefully,” she said, “we just found something that will crack this wide open.”
“Good,” he said. “Then you don’t have to hassle me anymore.”
“Am I hassling you?” she asked curiously.
He just glared at her.
She shrugged and said, “Thanks for coming in.” She watched as he turned and walked away. As soon as he was out of sight, she headed for the Forensic Department. As she walked in, she said, “What have you got for me?”
“All kinds of goodies,” the tech said. “Looks like this case is starting to pop.”
*
Simon had toadmit that he was a little miffed. He wanted to see what forensics had found. Curiosity was one thing, but this was something else. He knew the cops needed a break in the case, but he did too. He wished he could do something to help. He brought himself up short, shocked and surprised. After a lifetime of trying to stay uninvolved, he was doing a hell of a lot worse on that whole plan than he’d ever had before.
Was it the detective? Or was it the series of unending nightmares about kids? He didn’t want any more of that. As long as he kept fooling himself, he could keep believing that it was all about the nightmares. But he knew the detective was affecting him in some way, and it didn’t appear to be in a good way.
As he stepped outside the police station, he walked a few blocks to get his bearings, seeing an outdoor café up ahead. Still unsettled, he walked in, ordered a coffee, and then sat outside on the little patio deck, watching the world go by. It had been a successful gambling weekend, but something was seriously unsettling about coming off the docks and heading straight to the police station.
He pulled up his phone and downloaded all the messages that he couldn’t receive while out in international waters. He went often enough, but he also took it as a break from so many problems that always seemed to assail him on a daily basis. It was a pain in the ass in most cases, but, right now, as he sat here drinking his coffee, he quickly sorted through his emails. He had no intention of calling anybody back at this point. He would have to, soon enough, but not right now.
With nothing else popping up as being major, he finished his coffee and got up, then started slowly back toward where he wanted to be. It was a good walk, and he might just catch an Uber on the way.
As he headed out, he caught sight of Yale. He looked at him in surprise, as the two met in the middle of the block. “Hey, what are you doing here?” Simon asked.
Yale smirked. “That’s what I would ask you.”
“Not doing a whole lot,” Simon said. “Just heading home.”
“You were in a hell of a hurry to get off the boat this morning.”
“I had an appointment. Otherwise I would have stayed on until the end, as I normally do.”
Yale shrugged. “Stayed on as long as I could for the crowd, and then I had to go.” He lifted a hand and walked past. “Have a good day. See you in a couple weeks.” With that, he strolled down the street in the opposite direction.
Simon turned to watch his old friend go by; Yale was really aging. He’d always been what Simon thought was maybe a decade older, but he wasn’t sure. Now it was obvious that the lifestyle was starting to get to Yale. Something Simon himself needed to consider. Shrugging, he headed home, choosing to take the long walk instead of grabbing a ride.
He couldn’t help but still be irritated that he wasn’t allowed in on the investigation. The detective had no reason to trust him, but then she also had no reason to consider him a suspect, especially not since he sent her those numbers for the safe. And it was a damn good thing he had done that.
As he thought about her and considered what they were doing, another series of numbers popped into his head. He frowned and shook his head.
“Ha, no way.” No way he would send that to her. But, with every step he took, it was like a nail being driven into his skull. Finally he pulled out his phone and sent the numbers to her, then put away his cell. Realizing that she would likely call, he pulled it back out, shut it off. When he finally got home, he was cold and tired. When he stood in the front lobby and headed toward the stairs to his apartment, the doorman at the front smiled at him.
“Good morning, sir.”
He nodded. And then he stopped and asked, “Was it a quiet weekend, Harry?”
The doorman walked over and checked the log. “Looks like it.”
“Good, that’s the way I like it.”
“In that case, he said, “that was the weekend you should have stayed home.”