Chapter Fifteen Brad #8
Bree had the victims’ files spread out and kept flipping through the photos. I squinted at one of the pictures because I hadn’t seen it before.
“Where did you get that one?” It was of Shelly White’s bedroom.
She held it up so I could see it better.
“It’s one of mine. I’ve learned over the years that I miss a lot of stuff.
I’m not blessed with a photographic memory.
” She smiled playfully and poked me in the shoulder.
“You’d be surprised by how many times I’ve found kids just because of my photos.
Things you might not see at first.” She pointed to a Christmas ornament in one of the pictures.
“For instance, CSI wouldn’t have any reason to snap a photo like this.
It’s a simple ornament, but for me, it’s a lot more.
Remember, I found Shelly’s TikTok account on her iPad.
This was hanging in full sight, but if you look closely at the picture, you’ll see it’s from her secret lover, the professor.
She showed me a zoomed-in photo with a heart and his name written underneath it.
I wonder how many times Oliver the ex-boyfriend from the gym looked at it and just thought it was cute. ”
“Good catch.”
“Thanks.” She tucked the photo back in its place and closed her eyes.
“We still have a lot to wrap up with this case. Not the least of it is why the hell Hank did what he did. We need a search warrant for his house. I’ll get on that first thing.”
“Okay, I’ll start by talking to his wife if you like. I’m sure she must be shocked over it all.”
“All right, sounds good.” I nodded. “I made a promise to myself that I’d give every case my all.
Lord knows I could use a win after staring at that cold case for the past decade.
” I knew Bree still struggled daily with what had happened at the river, and to be truthful, so did I, but I channeled my nerves and stress with hockey and my work.
I didn’t want it to run my life anymore.
It was high time she found better ways to deal with it too.
It wasn’t a good time to discuss that, and I didn’t want her to shut down on me, so I changed the topic to something . . . fun.
“How’d you sleep, given the extra exercise you had?” I smirked.
“I was dead to the world until about three in the morning, when my nightmare came to visit.” She gave a small shrug.
I decided not to comment. There was no easy fix to that, but we’d both agreed we’d start seeing a therapist.
She changed the subject. “Do you ever look at a case and just know you’re missing something?”
All the time. “Yes, often. I think it’s a sign of a good detective if you care enough to open the file after the case has been solved.” I parked, but she stopped me from leaving.
“Brad, it’s time to talk about why you kept me from Hank’s takedown.”
I knew she was right, and I only hoped I could make her understand where my head had been.
“Truth? You’re still not healed from your accident.
You still get headaches. I know from years of hockey that stress is the worst thing when you’re trying to heal from a concussion.
” I put a finger on her lips when she went to speak.
“I’m sorry, but before you say anything, I need you to understand my thought process. Okay?”
She pursed her mouth but settled back.
“But, the main thing is, and I know this is going to piss you off, you don’t have the kind of training for that level of police work. Arresting a killer is vastly different from talking down a runaway teen.”
She wrinkled her nose, and I waited, but to my surprise she simply nodded. “I understand that.”
“And add to all that”—I threaded my fingers through hers—“I was scared he was going to hurt you, and I couldn’t bear that.”
“Brad,” she warned, “you don’t get to make those kinds of decisions for me.”
“I know.”
“And, you and I both know, we could be facing something even more sinister from the things we’ve heard from Hank and Timothy Ford. If they’re to be believed. I need to know that while I’m here, you’re not going to keep anything from me.”
She was right. Something was still very off. I could feel it coming. Like a dark presence lurking on the sideline.
“Brad, promise me.”
“I can promise I’ll try.” I pressed her hand to my lips.
I didn’t want to focus on the bad stuff.
She groaned, and I nipped her fingers playfully.
“I have you back in my life, Bree. I’m a protective guy, and you”—I tugged her forward—“are worth protecting.” I snagged her waist and pulled her in for a small kiss.
I opened my door, then went around to open hers as she gathered up all her paperwork. She smiled happily up at me as we headed toward the station together.
“Drinks at Karva at seven. Everyone’s going to celebrate the case,” Kennedy called as he joined us on the stairs.
I put a hand on her bottom.
“Brad!” She laughed and glanced quickly around. “Someone will see us.” When I didn’t remove it, she swatted at me, and I caught Kennedy’s sly grin.
“You’re naughty!” She pulled ahead of me.
“Darlin’, you have no idea.”