Chapter 4
Cade fought himself. He didn’t like letting her walk.
Ms. Norris had secrets. A multitude, if he had to guess.
Secrets tied to attempted murder were never a good thing.
But he had a job to do. The one the department trusted him with, so he worked the scene at the yacht club, taking statements from the victim and the doctor while patrol officers searched for witnesses.
Nothing pointed to a suspect that wasn’t Daniel Pereda.
Eventually, there was nothing more Cade could do in the name of the case and he had to face the reality of Samantha’s displeasure waiting for him at home. Normally so understanding, she’d made her disappointment clear. And she was right, but it hadn’t felt like a scene he could walk away from.
As a peace offering, he picked up her favorite cookies to go with a late take-out dinner.
He was lucky she loved him. The mother of his child amazingly forgave him quickly.
After dinner, they cuddled close on the couch, watching the video from her ultrasound.
It was remarkable to see the baby, in grainy black and white, with a fluttering heartbeat.
Soon that would be their son or daughter and he’d be a father for the rest of his life.
It was mind-boggling. Thrilling. More than a little bit terrifying.
And they hadn’t even considered names yet.
He regretted that they hadn’t shopped in person, as planned. He made it up to her by putting together an online wish list extensive enough to bankrupt a millionaire.
Silly, sure. But it was a starting point. More importantly, it made her happy. It was life affirming.
Contrary to Ms. Norris’s opinion, life mattered to him too. He believed in celebrating the good stuff because there was always plenty of death and darkness.
The next morning in the bullpen, he was right back in the thick of it, burdened with the growing awareness that a certain “counselor” was on the right track about Daniel Pereda.
As he reviewed the photos and statements they’d gathered so far, a potential motive was forming. And all of it underscored Norris’s theory. He shoved back from his desk and went for another cup of coffee.
If she was so damn right, logic dictated that she must’ve been involved somehow. Except the evidence didn’t support that logic.
“I hate psychics,” he muttered. Gulping coffee, he tried to make Ms. Norris fit into the case properly before his next person-of-interest arrived.
The mistress, Tansy Milton, had been found holed up in a hotel across town from the residence. She’d used her sister’s name to check in, but used her own credit card for the room and the rideshare service to get to the hotel from the spa. A criminal mastermind, she was not.
When confronted by officers this morning, she agreed to come in and talk to Cade.
Would the “counselor” be as cooperative when he called on her? The woman scared him more than a little. Not because she spouted off knowledge she shouldn’t know. He didn’t believe in her counselor-psychic woo-woo babble.
She was a glorified con artist as far as he was concerned.
Despite her claims to the contrary, Nell must’ve had some idea her husband was cheating and Norris had picked up on the tension or emotional cues or something. Then she’d conflated a theory so she could insert herself into the crisis and subsequently milk Nell for more money.
A small voice in the back of his head told him he was full of crap, urged him to review the facts he valued so highly.
Too bad. He wasn’t ready to listen to that voice just now.
Psychics were always working an angle. They spewed vague guesses and insinuations, consistently interfering with the process.
Sparking hope at best. Derailing solid investigations at worst.
Those tips and advice never panned out like they promised. They stole money from vulnerable families and didn’t look back.
So why was Cade back at his desk, staring at Norris’s website? The one that didn’t mention anything other than counseling and consultations.
He skimmed the testimonials and silently blamed people for being suckers.
For believing what they wanted to believe in.
He didn’t have a problem with people seeking comfort or encouragement or a motivational boost to accomplish some goal.
But there was no way this one woman could be feeding people viable answers about their lives.
He quickly closed the tab when Milton walked in, flanked by the two officers who’d escorted her from the hotel.
She sat, still as a statue beside his desk while he reviewed the statement she had given the officers, asked a few additional questions, and was satisfied he had the whole story.
Damned if it didn’t line up with Nell’s account and Norris’s theory. He stared down at the file while he debated his next move.
“They told me you have him in custody,” Milton said.
“That’s right.” They’d picked him up and dumped him in holding after taking Nell’s statement at the yacht club.
“So, um.” She fidgeted with the strap of her purse now. “You’re not buying all that crap about a break-in, right?”
“Also correct. Are you telling me you staged that scene and filed a false report?”
Milton shook her head. “No. We argued. About all of it.” She tipped her head to the open file. “He got physical with me. Shoved me. I didn’t make that mess or call the police. He did all that.”
“And yet you cooperated, went along with him. Drove his wife’s car to a spa.”
Her lips trembled. “I-I know I’m the other woman.
I know our relationship is, well, wrong.
” She swallowed. “The fight yesterday morning was eye-opening. Scary. That’s a side of him I’ve never seen.
As for his wife, he told me she moved out.
Left him months ago. That was the first time I’d been to his house. ”
“And you saw them there together. Saw that she hasn’t moved out.” Nothing quite like learning the truth.
“You’re telling me.” She scooted the chair closer to his desk until it thumped against the side panel. “I’m really sorry that I helped him at all. Yes, I did what he asked. I drove Nell’s car to the spa. Daniel was scary. You weren’t there. I didn’t have a choice.”
“Without once calling the police.” Cade tapped his fingers on the file. Her fear was obvious, but her actions made her an accessory.
“He said he’d find me if I didn’t do it,” she explained, her eyes pleading. “He threw the keys at me. Nell was... Well.” Milton swallowed. “I wasn’t a part of hurting her. Or anything after.”
“Did he tell you what he had in mind for Nell?”
She chewed on her lip as tears welled up in her eyes. “He said...he said he’d take care of it.”
“It?” Cade pressed.
“Her. Her. Okay? Nell. He told me he was going to take care of the body.”
That wasn’t in the file yet. “He said body?” She nodded, once. “Did he mention how?”
“He did.”
Cade waited.
She swallowed, her face was pale. “He said he’d take her out in the boat and toss her in the lake. That we could be together. He said we wouldn’t have to worry about her ever again.”
“And knowing all of that, you drove her car away from her house, left her with a man threatening to kill her and never called the police.”
“I’m sorry. I was terrified. He’s never been like that before. I knew it wouldn’t matter what I said. I wouldn’t change his mind. He got in my face.” She swiped a tear from her cheek. “Told me if I argued or called the cops or didn’t follow through, he would find me. Kill me too.”
Cade made a note, adding more charges to the long list Daniel Pereda was facing.
“He said he wasn’t going to jail alone. I don’t know what happened after I left. I just knew I had to try and get away when I had the chance.” She gripped her purse with both hands. “I’m so sorry. Nell’s okay, isn’t she? I saw on the news you rescued her.”
Cade didn’t correct her about who had done the actual rescuing. He wasn’t about to publicly praise a self-proclaimed psychic. Ms. Norris hadn’t argued about letting the police take the credit. Cade still hadn’t decided if that was a point for or against her.
“The doctors expect Nell to make a full recovery,” he replied, sticking with the more relevant issue. He was here to do a job.
And after... Well, there was always more work for a cop to do. But he’d missed a critical personal milestone yesterday and today, he vowed to do better. He’d finish this interview, get his notes in order, and then he had a babymoon to plan.
Cade asked Ms. Milton a few more questions, mostly about how long she’d known and been involved with Daniel Pereda and if she had any insights into the man’s habits. She was more than happy to spill every detail she could think of.
When she ran out of steam, he cut her loose, cautioning her to stay in town.
“Will I be charged with a crime?” she asked, her voice cracking.
“That’ll be up to the State’s Attorney’s office. They’ll review the case and confer with Mrs. Pereda before they decide.”
Milton nodded, tears welling in her eyes. “All right. You don’t have to worry. I won’t leave town,” she promised. “He wasn’t... I mean, I wouldn’t have stayed if...” She swiped a tear from her cheek. “I didn’t know he was capable of this.”
They never did. Cade couldn’t reel in his dark thoughts as he walked the woman out of the station.
Some days just didn’t have much light at all.
Though Nell was safe and Milton had likely escaped a similar fate at some point in the future, he didn’t feel the usual full satisfaction of a good arrest.
Didn’t take a shrink—or psychic—to uncover why. He was all for teamwork, he just preferred the official Chicago Police Department team. The Norris woman had interfered and muddied the waters.
He couldn’t say for sure that her involvement would prevent justice, but he couldn’t rule it out.
“Laurier!” Over his shoulder he saw another detective holding up the handset on his desk phone. “Phone call.”
He’d come to that conclusion on his own, thank you very much. “Detective Laurier?”
“Yes.”
“This is University Hospital. You’re the emergency contact for Samantha—”
“Yes. Yes.” He reached for his jacket. “What happened?”
“The doctors are with her now, sir. There seems to be a concern with the pregnancy.”
“I’ll be right there.” Cade didn’t wait. He dropped the handset into place and flew out of the bullpen.
And he was still too late. Not that his presence would’ve helped anything at all. The baby was gone. Samantha was hemorrhaging. He’d never felt more helpless or lost. He didn’t know who to call, so he sat in the ER until a nurse led him upstairs to a room.
He waited there, in shock, until they wheeled in Samantha, looking pale and weaker than he’d ever seen her. A doctor gave him facts and details that didn’t cut through the fog of grief.
Once she was settled and the nurses left them alone, he crawled into the bed and held her.
“Whatever you need,” he promised. “I’m here. I love you.”
She only wept.