Chapter 2
Chicago PD Detectives Cade Laurier and Laverne Hoffman walked out of Chief Rensler’s office in silence. They didn’t speak to each other or anyone else until they reached the parking lot.
“I tried to warn you,” Cade muttered as he unlocked his car.
Hoffman shook her head. “Can’t make me regret saving a life.” She slid into the passenger seat. “We didn’t break any laws.”
Cade wasn’t sure he agreed. The chief had raked them over the coals for “inviting” Devyn Norris to assist with two high-profile cases in recent months. As if he’d called her up and asked her to come along.
The first time, Devyn had shown up as a friend of the victim at what appeared to be a home invasion. And Devyn had involved herself in a cold case situation that turned into the apprehension of a serial killer.
Not his fault the media sniffed out her involvement there. This was the age of transparency, wasn’t it?
“In his mind, we used an outside consultant without prior approval,” he said, pulling out of the parking lot.
“Life. Saved.”
Rather than continuing to beat his head against the brick wall Hoffman had built, he changed tactics. “Would you call her in again?”
“Devyn? Hell, yes. In a heartbeat.” She shifted in the seat. “We should get lunch.”
“I’m gonna keep talking about this,” he warned.
She shrugged. “Then lunch is required. And you’re paying.”
He headed for their favorite pizza place near the office. He had no idea how Hoffman stayed so thin, considering the way she devoured deep dish pizza and a cola. Not diet. Not for Laverne. Apparently, her body thrived on every available calorie.
He felt a pang of envy. Cade wasn’t exactly a slouch, but staying fit required effort on his part. Fortunately for him, he’d recently remembered that time in the gym with weights and the treadmill was healthier than working cases around the clock until his head ached and his eyes burned.
“Why do you believe in her?” Cade asked, not bothering to use Devyn’s name.
Hoffman smiled. “You should probably blame my grandma,” she said. “She used to tell me stories about her grandmother and her grandmother’s sisters having the sight.”
“Seriously?”
“Come on. You’ve got to know there’s more to life than just what we can see.”
Thoughts like that made him uncomfortable. There were times when he still heard his girlfriend’s voice in the apartment. Impossible, but true. “Do I? What I can see is plenty terrifying.” Regular people and crimes were more than enough for him.
“Were you raised in church?” Hoffman challenged.
“Well, yeah,” he admitted.
“Do you still go?”
Cade shook his head. Since the deaths of his girlfriend and the baby she’d been carrying, Cade was on the outs with faith in general.
Sympathy filled Hoffman’s gaze. “I get it. All I’m saying is the women in my family are big on church. And sometimes, especially in generations past, the women in my family felt like they had an extra blessing. An extra gift. Those women knew things. We don’t see it as a conflict.”
“And you think Devyn has this extra blessing.”
Her dark eyebrows arched high. “After everything she’s helped with, I can’t believe you’re going to sit there and eat pizza and tell me you don’t.”
He tapped the edge of his plate. “What’s the pizza got to do with it?”
“Pizza this good should be reserved for true believers,” she said.
“Your priorities confuse me.”
Hoffman laughed as she pulled another wedge of pizza to her plate. “I really want to become a client. Devyn’s client,” she admitted. “The testimonials from people she’s counseled are impressive.”
Cade only grunted. What would it take to get Hoffman off this track?
“But I don’t feel like I can be her client and ask her to help on cases,” she continued.
Cade seized the opening. “Then be her client. And do the police work the way it’s meant to be done.”
“Aren’t we meant to use all the tools available?” she challenged.
“We’re meant to use all the tools that are admissible in court,” he reminded her.
Hoffman rolled her eyes. “Come on. I’m not trying to break all the rules. I’m not even trying to break the mold. But she helped you, and by my count, she’s saved two lives that we know of. More, if you watched the news over the weekend.”
“What are you talking about?” Cade asked before he could stop himself.
Hoffman shook her head. “You cannot keep living under a rock. The media has been all over the story. Ginny Culpepper was found—alive. Her husband consulted Devyn when the searchers didn’t find her.”
“No way.”
“The only way. She was more than a mile from where they expected her to be.” Hoffman drilled a finger into the table. “Life saved. Try and argue.”
“Okay, fair enough,” he allowed. He couldn’t keep denying that Devyn did have some insight the average person did not. Although he never planned to volunteer the information, she’d helped him through a personal crisis that made him believe in her skills as a counselor.
Thankfully, he hadn’t heard from her since. To the best of his knowledge, she hadn’t even been in Chicago. Unlike Hoffman, he was fine with that.
“Whether I believe in her or not is pretty much irrelevant,” Cade said. “Rensler said no more using her to consult.”
Hoffman snorted. “I’m far more likely to ask forgiveness than permission.” She held up her hands as if she was surrendering. “Things don’t get done otherwise.”
“If you say so.”
“Blame my experience and cop-intuition, but I think I’ll need her again,” Hoffman admitted. “We have too many cold cases.”
“Just make sure Rensler doesn’t hear you talk like that.”
“She’s an asset,” Hoffman insisted. “Not a vigilante.”
True enough. Cade was over this conversation. Even if he had a valid counterpoint, it was clear Hoffman wasn’t in the headspace to listen.
“Let’s just get back to the job, okay?”
“Sure. There’s plenty of paperwork to keep me busy,” she said.
Cade caught the server’s attention and asked for a box for his remaining pizza. Hoffman had polished hers off.
“Will you have my back if I call her in?” Hoffman asked as they left the restaurant.
In his head, Cade swore a blue streak. “Maybe just leave me out of it.”
“Laurier, where is your spine? She’s not a vigilante.” She snapped her fingers. “She’s an informant.”
“Rensler specifically disagreed with you on that less than an hour ago.”
“Semantics.”
“You have to be careful,” he pressed. “Norris isn’t a cop.”
“You’re stubborn as hell.” Hoffman sighed. “If she’s got a tip, I’m listening. Rensler will have to deal with it. We follow up on tips all the time. So far, Devyn is far more reliable.”
“Why can’t you just be her client?”
“Because I took this job to help other people.” Hoffman’s gaze was somber. “Being her client would only help me.”
“Ever heard of self-care?”
She laughed. “Maybe I’ll try that out once I retire.”
They went their separate ways at the office, and although a few of his colleagues speculated on his summons to meet with Rensler, no one gave him any real grief.
He dug into the paperwork and kept his head down. He wasn’t anywhere close to retirement and he didn’t really want to start looking for a new job. Like Hoffman, helping people was what kept him coming back day after day.
Better to focus on that, rather than sweat all the other details he couldn’t control.
Devyn Norris—and Hoffman’s fascination with her—was definitely outside of his control.