Chapter 4
A week after his bizarre and inexplicable time with Ms. Norris, Cade caught himself smiling as he headed for the station. His steps felt lighter, the sunlight seemed brighter and warmer. His thoughts were clear.
He didn’t want to give Norris the credit, so he ignored her involvement and enjoyed the changes.
“Good morning, detective.”
Cade glanced at the desk sergeant. Something about the daily exchange was off. It took him a beat to figure it out. The desk sergeant hadn’t said “good” in a long time.
“It is a good morning,” Cade replied.
Jogging up the stairs to the bullpen, he felt a little tug that he was being uncharitable about the whole thing with Norris.
His outlook had been improving day by day since their talk.
His recollection of the conversation was blurry, but he was sure she’d said something about the wisdom of sharing the burden.
Apparently, she was right. Maybe her claims of being a counselor were true.
Strange that she’d accomplished what a psychiatrist, pastor, and his friends couldn’t.
He wouldn’t admit that to anyone except her.
Maybe. If he saw her again. Deep down, he hoped they didn’t have to cross paths and test his gratitude.
He’d been sleeping through the night without any resistance or nightmares. That alone made a huge difference. His focus, his interest in the world, and his mood were all improved. He wasn’t skating on the razor’s edge of a furious outburst anymore.
He’d even used the shower for five days running without crying or seeing a river of blood swirling down the drain.
It was remarkable. And petty of him to try and write her out of his progress. He owed her his thanks. Owed her an apology for being an ass. He’d make time to call her today. Or tomorrow. It would depend on the caseload, he decided when he reached his desk.
His butt had barely landed in the chair when Detective Hoffman walked up. “Hi, Laurier. You’re in early.”
He glanced at his watch and shrugged. “Guess so.”
She planted her hands on her trim hips, her dark eyes studying him. “You look better. Got some color in your face again.”
“Thanks?” He tucked his gun in the drawer, but she didn’t move along. “Are you flirting with me or is there something on your mind?”
She laughed and perched a narrow hip on the corner of his desk.
The query was outrageous. Everyone who spent more than a minute with Hoffman knew she was blissfully married.
A couple weeks ago, he would’ve been fighting a surge of jealousy for her perfect life.
Today, he could just enjoy his colleague without the misplaced animosity.
“I’ve been concerned about you,” Hoffman admitted. “It’s been hard not to hover.”
“I appreciate your restraint.”
Her smile flashed again, then faded, as she shifted to business. “I need your help. How well do you know Devyn Norris?”
His eagerness to assist evaporated. “We’re acquainted.”
“She helped you on that kidnapping-attempted murder case. Pereda?”
“Yes,” he confirmed. Days before his world had shattered. “Wasn’t she here last week to see you?”
Hoffman rolled her shoulders. “She found a body no one else could find.”
“Seriously?”
“Seriously.” Hoffman looked around, found a chair, and pulled it over to sit close.
“I had that Archer case file nearly memorized and there was no obvious reason to look at the abandoned lot where the remains were found. Not a single piece of evidence suggests the body was moved, Cade. Six years ago, that girl was kidnapped from work and no one saw her again. The medical examiner’s report shows injuries consistent with being restrained for some time before she was killed and buried right there in that lot. ”
He swore.
“My thoughts exactly.” Hoffman started ticking off points with her fingertips. “Since Devyn walked in with the grieving parents, I’ve reviewed the case file along with the evidence recovered at the scene. Nothing about that lot connects to the Archers.”
“It can’t be random. Do you have any video?”
She leaned back as if he was contagious. “From six years ago?” She shook her head. “No way.”
“So, the perp made a deliberate choice.”
“A choice to outsmart us,” she grumbled. “Devyn said the killer was male and knows forensics well enough to not leave a trail.” She pursed her lips. “She couldn’t give me more than that. I’m doing the legwork and still coming up empty.”
Cade focused on the police work, swallowing his opinion of Norris. “The location must mean something to the killer.”
“Normally, I’d agree. I’ve been down the rabbit hole for days now. I can’t link that property with anyone who is also tied to Charlene Archer.” She pinched the bridge of her nose. “Can’t link it to anyone at all.”
“Taking her was random?” Cade drummed his fingers on the arm of the chair. “Dumping her there was random? Could it be a trafficking attempt gone wrong?”
Hoffman scowled. “We explored those theories when the case was new. We combed through that girl’s life.”
“Why come to me?” he asked. “You need fresh eyes on the file?”
“Sure,” Hoffman said, breezily. “The more the merrier.” She scooted to the edge of her chair, lowering her voice. “What I’m after is your take on Devyn Norris.”
His fingers stilled. Did he have a take on the woman he could share? Yes, he’d been about to call her with grudging thanks for dragging him out of his grief, but that didn’t mean he suddenly liked her or the way she did things. “Why?”
“The rabbit hole,” Hoffman said. “I caught a similar case a couple months ago. Female, eighteen this time, taken from work. It’s already iced over. If the perp is someone who knows how to erase an evidence trail, I need Devyn’s help.”
“What? Do you hear yourself right now? What happened to real police work?”
She glared at him. “The real police work stalled out. And these cases are so similar. Maybe she can walk that lot with me and pick up a vibe or whatever it is she does.”
Cade rolled his eyes. If he didn’t know better, he’d accuse Hoffman of being lazy. “You believe she’s real.” He glanced around. “A real psychic,” he whispered.
“What I think is that I’m dealing with one smart killer,” Hoffman said. “We didn’t catch him last time. We didn’t even find the body until the Archers got Devyn involved.”
His back teeth set and it took all his willpower not to blast Hoffman and storm off.
He was irrationally angry about the suggestion that Norris was real.
Apparently, his respite of calm control was over.
No surprise there. Norris hadn’t fixed anything.
She didn’t have any extra connection or power.
She’d let him talk, vent his grief. She’d been kind, but hardly a miracle worker.
“Would you call her?” Hoffman seemed to be holding her breath.
“That’s a slippery slope.” And he decided quickly enough. He shook his head. “Hell no. You want her help, you call. There’s a contact page on her website.”
“Yes. Email only. I thought...” Her voice trailed off and her gaze narrowed.
He didn’t have to be a mind-reader to hear what she didn’t say. “You thought we had some arrangement?”
Hoffman shrugged a shoulder. “The two of you seemed tight when she came into the precinct.”
Tight. Seriously? “We had a conversation.” And she’d helped him so much he’d been about to call her and thank her. He reached for his coffee to keep from yanking out his hair. “No connection,” he heard himself explain. “She was at a crime scene, that’s all.”
“She found the intended victim,” Hoffman reminded him, her tone sharp as a blade.
Cade held up his hands in surrender. “You’ll get further without my interference.” He tapped his cell phone and scrolled until he found Norris’s contact information. He copied it into a text message and sent it to Hoffman. “Try that number.”
Hoffman’s smile lit up her face. “Thank you!” She started to walk away and turned back. “And I’ll send you the files too.”
Great. He saluted her with his coffee. Maybe she’d interpret that as enthusiasm. In the meantime, he had his own caseload to deal with. Among other responsibilities.
He needed some time to cool off before he could make the call and thank Norris politely for helping him out of that pit of grief. He did owe her that much.
Knowing Hoffman’s efficiency and the urgency of closing those cases, he’d wait to call.
He set a reminder to reach out to Norris this afternoon and dug into his own work.
He felt the glances as his colleagues came and went.
They’d been giving him space and treating him with kid gloves for months.
He probably owed his entire department an apology for being such a mess.
For insisting on coming in when his brain was clouded and his emotions were wrecked.
When he was a cracked shell of a functioning detective.
How much longer would they have let him muddle along? Although, as he reviewed his files, he could see no one had left him to his own devices.
He saw the notes now, from just about everyone in the building. Somehow, they’d managed to supervise him, preventing a catastrophe, without sending him into a tailspin or allowing him to undermine investigations.
It was more than a little lowering to discover he’d been so deep in the fog he hadn’t noticed everyone propping him up.
Looked like he owed a lot of people some serious gratitude for putting up with him. Maybe he should talk to HR or have a chat with the chief. He opened his email to set that up and got distracted with the latest arrival.
Hoffman’s invitation to dig into her cold cases. Fine. Anything to keep her from turning to Norris.
He opened the two attachments. The first file was the Archer case and the second was the more recent case Hoffman believed was connected.
Over the next hour he read and reread initial reports, notes, evidence reports, and witness statements—which were pitifully few on the new case compared to what they had now after recovering Charlene Archer’s remains.