Chapter 4 #2
Unfortunately, he agreed with Hoffman. The cases were too similar, from the ages of the victims, to the time of year, to how they both seemingly disappeared into thin air. He had to wonder if the new victim was still a captive somewhere.
Male. Forensics expert. He simultaneously wanted to lean into those details and cast them aside. No one could build a workable profile from those broad strokes.
According to the report provided by the independent search team hired by the Archers, the cadaver dog had found Charlene’s remains without alerting to any other locations.
Curious, Cade, picked up the phone and called a buddy who worked with K-9 partners.
Neil Mellencamp, Cougar to his friends, was an exceptional handler with decades of experience in the military and now with the Chicago PD.
He’d worked with dogs of various talents from drug identification to explosives plus rescue and recovery operations in between.
“Laurier!” Cougar answered with his typical enthusiasm. A dog barked in the background. “How are things?”
“Better,” Cade replied before he could overthink it. “Are you working or training?”
“We’re having second-breakfast tots,” Cougar said with a laugh. Another happy bark sounded, this one much closer to the phone. “Talk to me, man.”
Cade laid out the scenario, explaining the Archer’s decision to hire an independent team, without going into how they’d chosen the location.
“Yeah, I heard about that search. Good work.”
“Right,” Cade couldn’t argue with the success. “Would the dog have alerted to remains that weren’t Charlene Archer?”
“Cadaver dogs search for the dead,” Cougar replied. “Not like a tracking dog following one scent to find the living.” He crooned to his partner. “Who’s a good girl? That’s right, it’s you. My good girl gets a tot.”
Cade smothered a laugh.
Cougar added, “If there were other bodies in the search area the dog would have alerted.”
“Okay. Thanks, man.”
“You’re welcome. Anything else?”
“No, not really.”
“You were thinking that the cadaver team was steered to the location where the remains were found.” Statement, not a question. It proved how well they knew each other.
“It crossed my mind.”
“That’s not what happened,” Cougar assured him. “The cadaver team that found the Archer girl is private, but that doesn’t make them corrupt.”
“I wasn’t—”
“You were,” Cougar interrupted. “I get it. We all have our hang-ups.”
Cade would bet good money that most cops had hang-ups when it came to psychics pretending to be counselors. It wasn’t a point he was in the mood to debate. “Guilty as charged,” he said. There was no reason to protest or bring up Devyn Norris, specifically. “Thanks for clearing it up for me.”
Cougar chuckled. Probably at Cade, but it was possible the dog had done something amusing. “Anytime, dude. Be safe out there.”
“You too.”
Cade stared at the phone for some time, thinking through his hang-ups and issues.
He was a detective. His entire job demanded a certain level of skepticism to go along with the critical thinking.
No one should fault him for being diligent or leaning on hard science-based evidence over rumors and smoke and mirrors.
Whatever she did last week wasn’t smoke and mirrors.
The small, persistent voice in his head, the one urging him to be more grateful than skeptical, wasn’t wrong. Honoring his conscience, he picked up the phone and dialed Devyn—Ms. Norris. Better if he kept things professional.
Even if he didn’t understand quite how her profession worked.
She picked up right away. “Detective Laurier.”
Not a hello or a question. Only irritation coming through loud and clear. The attitude put him at ease for some perverse reason. He smiled. “Hello, to you too.”
“This is absurd. I already told Detective Hoffman—”
“I’m not calling about police business.” Not directly. Her assistance had restored his ability to do his job well. He focused on the gratitude. “I wanted to thank you.” He cleared his throat. “Talking with you last week made a big difference. You’ve really helped me.”
“Oh.”
The subsequent pause stretched for so long, he glanced down to be sure they were still connected. “Ms. Norris?”
“You’re welcome,” she said. “You do sound as if you’re feeling better.”
Better, clearer, and overall less morose. It still floored him. “I’m sleeping again,” he said, sharing too easily. “I even found myself appreciating the sunshine a time or two.”
“That’s wonderful.” She laughed, a soft, merry sound that seemed to dance lightly across his skin like sunlight filtering through the trees.
When the hell had he turned into a poet? “Yeah.” He swiveled his chair to catch the view through the windows. “It is.”
“Well, good. I’m glad.”
He sat there in the awkward silence, watching the wind stir the treetops outside. “Me too. I don’t know how you did it.”
“Explanations won’t make any difference,” she interrupted. “Accepting the help is the important thing. You were on the right track.”
He recognized bullshit when he heard it. “Don’t start lying to me now, Ms. Norris.”
“Call me Devyn. Please.”
Devyn. He tested the name in his head, liking it way too much. He shouldn’t be liking anything where she was concerned. He was probably transferring some emotion to her that was better left buried down deep. So much for professional distance.
“Right. Well, thanks, Devyn. Have a good day.” And a good life. He wasn’t rude enough to say it, but he hoped he never crossed her path again.
He heard a truck in the background. “You too, Cade.”
The call ended, leaving him a little adrift as he stared at the view outside. A truck rumbled, brakes squealing at the stop sign on the corner.
Notes and images from Hoffman’s cases ran through his mind. There was something in the timing, something just out of his reach.
Suddenly, it clicked and he turned to his computer. Methodically, he explored new search parameters. Maybe it wasn’t too late to save Hoffman’s recent victim. With dread and hope twisting in his gut, he kept at it until he had a tighter profile than a male forensics expert.
He jumped to his feet and went to find Hoffman.