No Room to Breathe (Devyn and Cade #2)

Chapter 1

Devyn Norris wondered if she would ever be comfortable in a police station. The obvious answer was no. She and the cops didn’t see eye to eye on how to achieve justice.

That sounded bitter, even in her own head. And it wasn’t even a fair critique.

She and the police simply worked with vastly different methods and tools. They definitely had different standards. And that’s how it should be.

What perturbed her most right now was how the police often dropped cases that didn’t progress. Too often cases were shoved aside and allowed to go cold, leaving victims in a devastating limbo.

Of course, she understood the department limitations of manpower and resources, but it still felt callous.

Especially when those loved ones with lingering fears and questions reached out to her for help.

They always hoped she could thaw out a case and she did her best to deliver using her unique abilities.

Which was why she was back in Chicago. Again.

She usually stayed away from big cities. Dense populations created too many opportunities for random details and stray information to come at her—unbidden. People had no idea the secrets they gave away. Clues and facts someone with her skill set could pick up too easily.

Not that she would ever use the intel that fell on her like rain. Most of the time she could tune it out and let it go. And though there were no professional regulations in her chosen career, she only used those random drips and drops of information if she sensed a crime was about to be committed.

In general, she found people were guilty of all kinds of things. Most of the time it was self-inflicted pain or regret. Nothing remotely criminal.

Stepping out of her car, she stared at the big glass doors and steeled herself. Though she hadn’t been inside this particular police station, she had worked with a detective from this office.

Please let him be working elsewhere today.

Normally, when information needed to be shared with police, she made a call with a burner phone that no one could track. Some might call it overkill or paranoia. Devyn considered it a practicality. She didn’t need police getting in her face for trying to help.

Unfortunately, today was far from normal.

The Archer family wanted Devyn in the room with them when they shared her recent findings with the detective who’d handled their daughter’s disappearance.

Charlene Archer’s life had come to a screeching halt at the age of nineteen.

One day she’d been a happy college student, the next she was gone. Never seen again.

Campus police hadn’t found any helpful clues. The Chicago PD hadn’t done any better. Private investigators had found a couple of threads that fell apart.

After six years of agony over Charlene’s disappearance, the Archers stumbled onto Devyn’s website and asked for help.

She knew closure was a type of help she could give. But lately, the frequent sad endings were adding up and taking a toll. There were times when she wished her instincts resulted in more positive outcomes.

She immediately halted that line of thinking. Her mentor and best friend, Marlene, would scold her for focusing on the negative. That bad habit made it harder to connect with her sources and invited danger and darkness to wreak havoc rather than restoration.

Besides, she had recent evidence of a positive outcome.

Just a few months ago, right here in Chicago, she’d rescued a woman before her husband could complete his plan to kill her.

And as the police worked the case, Devyn learned it was possible she might’ve saved the mistress from a similar fate as well.

Today, however, the win was in bringing closure and peace to the Archers.

After several deep searches, she’d found the information that led to the recovery of Charlene’s body.

Of course it would take time for an official confirmation, but items found with the remains were the evidence the Archers needed to move on.

Hard as it was, it had to be enough.

Instead of celebrating their daughter’s college graduation and watching her grow into a full life, the Archers stood with Devyn at the front desk of the police station. They were determined to face the lead detective on Charlene’s case.

From the first contact with the Archers, Devyn had been relieved the case hadn’t been tied to detective Cade Laurier. If she never saw that man again, it would be too soon. Laurier had too many clinging shadows and an attitude that set her teeth on edge.

“Do you think they’ll do anything?” Amy Archer asked her husband.

Martin slid an arm around his wife’s shoulders. “Of course, they will,” he replied. “The dog found a body. They have to do something.”

The grieving parents had taken Devyn’s advice and hired a cadaver dog. The father clutched the preliminary report in his trembling hand.

In fact, a forensics team was at the site, recovering the remains and as much evidence as possible while Devyn joined Martin and Amy.

She cleared her mind and heart of any expectations for the next few hours. The Archers were lovely people but they were also in a great deal of emotional turmoil. Finding their daughter’s body had torn open all those old wounds.

Not that they’d ever healed.

In Devyn’s experience, when people were hurting and overwhelmed, they rarely stuck to the story. This meeting had the potential to quickly shift from awkward to pure misery. Part of her role here was to be okay with any unpleasant fallout.

Because this was about the Archer family. Their pain and grief and sorrow. Their dwindling hope for real justice.

Devyn didn’t have any stake in the upcoming discussion. It wasn’t as if she had anyone who might bail on her when she gave her statement. Her family and closest friends accepted her as-is, unusual gifts included.

After a brief delay, a police officer led them up to the detective’s office.

Every squeak of a shoe on the polished floor reverberated through Devyn’s mind.

A chirpy countdown that irked her senses and put a pinch in her neck.

Devyn combatted the rising tension by bringing to mind the smiling faces of the people who cared about her.

She recited their names, over and over in her mind like a mantra.

At last, they reached a conference room.

Detective Laverne Hoffman stood in the doorway to welcome them.

Tall and slender, her tailored navy suit and orchid blouse set off her dark skin to perfection.

Her golden-brown eyes, gleaming with compassion as she greeted the older couple, were framed by long eyelashes.

Devyn immediately realized that detective Hoffman had never forgotten the Archer case. That flicker of awareness gave her hope for the conversation ahead.

“Good morning, Martin. Amy,” Hoffman said, inviting them in. “I’m sorry all over again for your loss.”

Mr. and Mrs. Archer murmured their thanks and Amy gave the detective a brief hug.

Devyn trailed them into the room. On the other side of tinted windows, the day was bright and clear, a sharp contrast to the grim topic of loss and death.

Hoffman raised her eyebrows. “We haven’t met.”

Smiling, she extended her hand. “Devyn Norris. I’ve been helping the family,” she added as the three of them sat down around one end of the large table in the middle of the room.

“She’s been such a blessing,” Amy said. “Our rock. We would still have so many questions if it weren’t for Devyn.”

Hoffman’s eyebrows lifted again, more challenge than curiosity this time.

“I dig into cold cases occasionally,” Devyn explained. “At the family’s request, of course.”

“My idea,” Martin jumped in. “I asked her to help. Not to find fault with the police or anything. It’s just—” He paused for a shaky breath. “We weren’t hearing any progress about... About our girl.” He set the report on the table, smoothing the paper with his fingertips.

“And I am sorry for that.” Hoffman pulled out a chair and sat directly across from the Archers. “I got a call from the medical examiner’s office that human remains were recovered earlier today.” Her gaze steady, she asked, “You believe your daughter has been found?”

Amy bobbed her head. “Yes. We were there when the cadaver dog, um...”

“Gave an alert,” Martin supplied.

“Right,” Amy continued. “We stayed just long enough.” She dabbed at the tears slowly trickling down her cheeks. “We recognized a couple of items of clothing there, um, in there with the... With Charlene,” she said, her voice cracking on her daughter’s name.

“That’s a very difficult thing to do,” Hoffman said. “And that’s not the outcome you were hoping for.”

“No. But we needed closure,” Amy’s voice snapped like a whip. “We couldn’t keep still any longer hoping this was the day she came home.”

“And how did you contribute, Ms. Norris?”

Devyn met the detective’s gaze. “Fresh eyes on the old details, that’s all.”

Amy shook her head. “Hardly. She gave us so much more than that.” She scooted to the edge of her chair. “Detective Hoffman, you need to understand. Devyn is a psychic. She listened to our story then she led us right to our Charlene.”

Devyn gave Hoffman credit for a superb poker face. The woman didn’t flinch. Maybe she was the rare kind of cop who believed in things that were difficult to explain.

“Look at the report.” Martin pushed the paper across the table. “That’s all because of Devyn.”

Hoffman read through both pages and studied the print out of the first photos taken at the scene.

“It certainly does seem as if Ms. Norris has been helpful,” Hoffman allowed.

“This matches the preliminary report from the team at the site. I’m so sorry we couldn’t do more at the time of Charlene’s disappearance. ”

Amy shifted in her seat again and reached for her husband’s hand. “Ms. Norris explained that too.”

Hoffman couldn’t hide her reaction. “Is that so?” Her eyes turned cool, her mouth set in a firm line.