Chapter 27
Alex Lanen
July
Alex stepped off the elevator, and the smell of eggs hit him like a wall.
“Welcome back, Lanen,” he muttered to himself as he lifted a hand to his nose. “Jesus.”
Sam Haugen must be in the building.
Alex had left this place eight days ago for sunshine and salt air, for mornings that started with the sound of waves instead of Haugen’s breakfast sandwiches and ended with cold beer instead of a homicide case.
Now, standing in the doorway of the bullpen with his duffel bag slung over one shoulder and a tan that was already drawing a few glares of jealousy, the Gulf Coast was nothing but a distant memory.
“Lanen! You’re back!” Sam’s voice boomed from across the bullpen.
The older detective had a breakfast sandwich half-wrapped in one hand as he advanced down the hallway, his large frame occupying most of the available space, holding up his other hand to indicate he wanted the elevator held.
Alex stuck his foot back to wedge the door.
“Thanks, buddy. Levick is busting my chops already this morning. I swear, at this rate, I’m going to put in for a new partner by the end of the month. ”
“Have a good day, Haugen.”
“Catch anything worth bragging about?” Sam asked as he stepped onto the elevator, the smell of eggs and processed cheese intensifying in the enclosed space.
“A forty-pound tuna. Other than that, we ate everything we caught,” Alex replied, removing his foot from the door. “I’ll show you pics later.”
The elevator doors closed, and the air quality in the hallway improved by several degrees.
Alex made his way into the bullpen, where a few other detectives called out greetings, asked about his trip, and made the predictable jokes about him going soft on vacation while they did the real work.
He responded with the expected banter, but his attention was already fixed on the corner desk where his partner sat.
Kinsley was drinking her coffee, her blonde hair pulled back in its usual messy bun, and she was tilted back in her chair while in deep conversation with Toby Drewett.
The officer was dressed in his patrol uniform after his week as a temporary detective, but there was a confidence in the young man’s posture that hadn’t been there before.
He stood straighter. Spoke with more certainty.
“…best week of my career,” Toby was saying as Alex approached within earshot. “I know I’ve still got a lot to learn, but working this case with you, Aspen, it was…”
He shook his head, apparently unable to locate words sufficient for whatever he was trying to express.
“Thank you. For choosing me. For trusting me with something this important.”
“You earned it, Drewett. Every bit of it.” Kinsley flashed a smile in Alex’s direction before focusing back on Toby. “Seriously, take the detective’s exam. You’re a natural. I’ll write you a recommendation letter myself. And speaking of people who wear shields, look what the tide washed back in.”
“Hey, Kin. Drewett.” Alex dropped his duffel bag beside his desk and reached over to shake Toby’s hand. “Heard you two had an interesting week.”
“That’s one way to put it.” Kinsley grimaced, and Alex figured he was about to hear about his tan again. “Great. I’m going to look like Casper standing next to you for the rest of the summer.”
“How was the fishing trip?” Toby asked, taking a step back to give Alex room to settle in.
“Excellent. Caught a forty-pound tuna, drank too much beer, and successfully avoided all responsibilities for eight consecutive days.” Alex pulled out his chair and immediately noticed that someone had been at his desk.
His stapler was two inches to the left of where it should be.
His pencil holder had been rotated forty-five degrees.
And his nameplate, the wooden one his mother had given him when he made detective, was facing backward.
“Izzy. I swear, I’m going to hide her car keys.
Better yet, I’m going to fill her locker with packing peanuts. ”
“I should probably get going,” Toby said, and Kinsley mouthed wise choice behind Alex’s back. “Thanks again, Aspen.”
As soon as Toby was out of earshot, Alex stood and began to shed his suit jacket.
“Speaking of thanks, I appreciate you keeping an eye on Mom while I was gone.” He hung his jacket on the coatrack behind him. “Turns out, Paul is a lover of snakes.”
“What?” Kinsley let her chair drop back to its original position and stared at him with an expression of undisguised horror. It was good to be back. “Please tell me you’re talking about the plumber’s snake and not snakes, snakes.”
“Snakes, snakes. Multiple aquariums in his living room. Some of them had heat lamps.” Alex reclaimed his seat.
There was something different about the bullpen, and he finally realized that a brand-new monitor, maybe seventy-five inches, had been mounted on the far wall while he was away. “What the hell is that?”
“You didn’t read through your emails yet, have you?” Kinsley glanced to her right at the new system. “We’re integrating a new software system for case assignments.”
Alex didn’t see their names on the monitor, which apparently meant they weren’t catching anything new this morning. He was already sensing the tension in his shoulders. Maybe he should have taken two weeks.
“Anyway, Paul was shown the door,” Alex replied, turning his attention back to Kinsley. “Respectfully, of course.”
“Like your mother knows any other way,” Kinsley said with a laugh. She stood and held out her hand. “Give me your mug. I need another refill, anyway.”
“Hey, I am not filling out any paperwork on the Bell case.” Alex snagged his mug before she could come around the side of the desk. “I wasn’t here, Kin. Not for any of it. Plus, you still owe me for the Scriven paperwork you left me to handle on my own.”
“The paperwork on the Bell case is already finished,” Kinsley stated, flashing him the kind of smile that usually preceded the discovery that she’d gotten away with something.
“Well, the majority of it, until the prosecutor’s office requests supplemental reports.
Did I not mention that Toby is remarkably gifted in that particular area of expertise? ”
Alex wanted to ask how that was even possible, given that the arrest had been made the previous afternoon, but movement near the elevator caught his attention.
Izzy Martinez emerged carrying a box of donuts and heading their direction with the grin of a woman who knew exactly what she’d done to his desk.
“Lanen! You’re back!” Izzy set the box on Kinsley’s desk, and Kinsley had already abandoned the offer to fill his mug in favor of a chocolate icing donut. “How was the Gulf? Did you catch anything impressive?”
“A forty-pound tuna.”
“Pictures or it didn’t happen.” Izzy perched on the edge of Alex’s desk, deliberately knocking his newly corrected pencil holder askew with her elbow.
“Hey, did you hear about the new AI dictation software? They installed it yesterday. Toby was the first one to try it out. He dictated every report from the Bell case, start to finish. Done in three hours.”
Alex arched a brow and gave Kinsley a pointed stare. She had half the chocolate donut shoved in her mouth and mumbled something completely unintelligible through the icing, already backing away toward the break room.
“I just busted her, didn’t I?” Izzy said, snapping her fingers. “Damn it. Kin, come back! I’m sorry. I didn’t know…”
Izzy hopped off Alex’s desk and followed Kinsley through the bullpen, their voices fading into the ambient noise of the department. He shook his head and was about to investigate the new software himself when his cell phone chimed with an incoming call.
He wheeled his chair back, retrieved his phone from his suit jacket, and glanced at the screen. His stomach tightened at the sight of Max’s name.
“Max,” Alex said quietly, catching sight of Kinsley and Izzy disappearing around the corner toward the break room. “Tell me I don’t have anything to be concerned about.”
“I wish I could, man.” Max was about to deliver bad news. “I ran the background check like you asked. Deep dive, everything I could access without raising red flags at the office. And Alex, this guy has a serious obsession with your partner.”
“Define obsession.”
“It appears that Serra has been investigating Kinsley for months, possibly longer.” Papers rustled on Max’s end.
“I found credit card records showing purchases at a surveillance equipment shop in Bismarck back in February. High-end stuff. Long-range cameras, audio recording devices, GPS trackers. But that’s not even the part that concerns me the most. It’s his contacts. ”
“What do you mean?”
“Serra has been tapping people for information he couldn’t obtain through legal channels, if you get my drift.” Max paused, letting the implication settle. “Someone I know personally provided him with her financials. Bank records, transaction history, the whole picture.”
“Please tell me that you’re going to get that person fired.”
“I’m handling it.”
Alex wanted to push the issue, but he trusted Max. He rubbed the back of his neck in irritation.
“You’re saying that Serra’s been stalking her,” Alex reiterated, doing his best to focus on the main subject matter.
“I’m saying he’s been conducting surveillance.
Whether it crosses into stalking territory from a legal standpoint is a gray area, but from where I’m sitting, it’s close enough that the distinction doesn’t matter much.
” Max cleared his throat. “He’s been interviewing people in Kinsley’s life under false pretenses.
Her neighbors, people at her gym, the owner of that coffee shop she goes to every morning.
It’s like he’s building a profile on her, Alex.
The kind of profile you build when you’re trying to understand someone’s patterns. Their habits. Their vulnerabilities.”
“How the hell would you know all of this?”
“You don’t want me to answer that question.” Max steered the conversation forward without apology. “But here’s what I think you need to understand. I’m not convinced it’s Kinsley herself that Serra is obsessed with. I think it’s the killer who got off on a technicality. Calvin Gantz.”
“Gantz?” Alex’s voice dropped, and he leaned forward in his chair, pressing the phone harder against his ear.
“Isn’t that the guy Kinsley’s father got acquitted? The one who walked because of prosecutorial misconduct?”
“Yeah,” Alex murmured in response. “What does Serra want with Gantz? The man disappeared. Nobody’s seen or heard from him in almost two years.”
“That’s exactly the point.” Max’s voice took on a harder edge, the kind of tone he used when he was done delivering information and had moved into delivering warnings.
“Serra covered the Gantz trial as a journalist. He wrote multiple pieces on the case, the acquittal, the public outrage. And when Gantz vanished, Serra didn’t move on to the next story the way most reporters would.
He kept digging. Kept pulling threads. And somewhere along the line, those threads led him to your partner. ”
Alex sat very still in his chair, the bullpen noise around him receding into something distant and irrelevant.
“Are you ready for this?” Max asked. “As of last Friday, Serra signed a six-month lease on an apartment in downtown Fallbrook. Two blocks from the police station.”
Alex didn’t respond immediately. He stared at the break room doorway where Kinsley had disappeared, where she was probably refilling coffee mugs and laughing with Izzy, unaware of just how deep an obsession Serra had with her.
“Alex? You still there?”
“I’m here.” Alex’s jaw tightened, thinking maybe it was time to have a one-on-one conversation with Beck Serra. “Send me everything you’ve got, Max.”