cryptic warnings served to magnify the uneasy feeling she already had about the course Teresa’s murder investigation was taking. From past experience she didn’t need any reason to mistrust Garrison, but now Drake and the rest? Twice she picked up the phone to call Nick and tell him his best friend was crazy. But she hung up when a small voice intruded: What if Jeff is right?
At EOW the phone rang just as Carly was about to step on the elevator. She leaned over the counter and picked up the receiver.
“It’s Joe. Are you on your way out?”
“Yeah, what’s up?”
“I’ve got something to tell you. I’m in the locker room changing. I got an early out. Are you up for coffee?”
“Sure. Harbor House?”
“I’ll meet you there.”
Carly acknowledged for about the hundredth time how lucky she was to have Joe as a partner and friend. He hadn’t been a cop as long as she had, but he was a guy who seemed born to the uniform. When they’d first started working together, she’d been concerned about Joe’s age since he was five years younger than she was. The last thing she needed was a hotshot partner getting her into trouble. Joe proved to be mature, solid, and dependable, with great instincts for the job—everything that made for a good partner.
As she drove to Harbor House, Carly wondered at the urgency in her partner’s voice. What could have happened that made him take an early out?
Harbor House was a twenty-four-hour diner just outside of Old Towne. It was a place Carly and Joe visited often when they worked together. The setting was great for informal debriefings. Neither of them drank, so a bar wasn’t an option. And when something happened at work that required they unwind, Harbor House was the place. Joe’s wife, Christy, or other cops used to meet them at the diner. Before the divorce, Nick often tagged along. It was therapeutic to talk and debrief one another over coffee after a stressful incident.
Joe met Carly at the door. “Hey, it’s been a while since we’ve come here, huh?” The last time they’d stepped inside Harbor House was after her shooting. Today, he’d just gotten a haircut, and it made the thinning spot on the top of his head more pronounced. Carly decided to hold back on the teasing.
“Yeah, too long. We should visit once in a while to catch up.”
Their favorite corner table was available. The restaurant was fairly crowded for 2:30 in the morning, as much because of the good food as the fact that not much else was open in the area. The waiter recognized both of them, and coffee came quickly. He left a carafe on the table so they would be undisturbed. Carly took a seat in the booth, feeling as relaxed as if she were sitting in her own living room.
“So what’s up?” she asked Joe while he doctored his coffee.
“There was another homicide tonight.”
“Oh, no wonder it got so quiet. No one arrests juvies when big stuff is happening in the field. Where and who?”
“On the west side. I drove over to check the scene out.” He paused, looking grave and older somehow. “It was Cinnamon, two bullets to the head, execution style.”
Carly’s coffee cup stopped midway to her mouth. “No way.”
“I couldn’t believe it myself.” His voice lowered to a whisper. “When I got there, they were still waiting on the coroner to check her for ID. I told Corbin who she was. His team drew the case.”
“Did you tell him we talked to her the other night?”
“No, after I told him who I thought she was, he really wasn’t interested in what I had to say. I told him I knew her from my beat. She was quite a ways out of her neighborhood when she was killed.”
Carly set her cup down. Did this new twist have something to do with Jeff’s ravings? I trust Joe, no matter what Jeff said. “I think I should tell you about a strange conversation I had with Jeff Hanks.”
“Jeff Hanks? The guy in dope?”
Carly nodded and gave Joe the play-by-play.
Joe listened
At EOW the phone rang just as Carly was about to step on the elevator. She leaned over the counter and picked up the receiver.
“It’s Joe. Are you on your way out?”
“Yeah, what’s up?”
“I’ve got something to tell you. I’m in the locker room changing. I got an early out. Are you up for coffee?”
“Sure. Harbor House?”
“I’ll meet you there.”
Carly acknowledged for about the hundredth time how lucky she was to have Joe as a partner and friend. He hadn’t been a cop as long as she had, but he was a guy who seemed born to the uniform. When they’d first started working together, she’d been concerned about Joe’s age since he was five years younger than she was. The last thing she needed was a hotshot partner getting her into trouble. Joe proved to be mature, solid, and dependable, with great instincts for the job—everything that made for a good partner.
As she drove to Harbor House, Carly wondered at the urgency in her partner’s voice. What could have happened that made him take an early out?
Harbor House was a twenty-four-hour diner just outside of Old Towne. It was a place Carly and Joe visited often when they worked together. The setting was great for informal debriefings. Neither of them drank, so a bar wasn’t an option. And when something happened at work that required they unwind, Harbor House was the place. Joe’s wife, Christy, or other cops used to meet them at the diner. Before the divorce, Nick often tagged along. It was therapeutic to talk and debrief one another over coffee after a stressful incident.
Joe met Carly at the door. “Hey, it’s been a while since we’ve come here, huh?” The last time they’d stepped inside Harbor House was after her shooting. Today, he’d just gotten a haircut, and it made the thinning spot on the top of his head more pronounced. Carly decided to hold back on the teasing.
“Yeah, too long. We should visit once in a while to catch up.”
Their favorite corner table was available. The restaurant was fairly crowded for 2:30 in the morning, as much because of the good food as the fact that not much else was open in the area. The waiter recognized both of them, and coffee came quickly. He left a carafe on the table so they would be undisturbed. Carly took a seat in the booth, feeling as relaxed as if she were sitting in her own living room.
“So what’s up?” she asked Joe while he doctored his coffee.
“There was another homicide tonight.”
“Oh, no wonder it got so quiet. No one arrests juvies when big stuff is happening in the field. Where and who?”
“On the west side. I drove over to check the scene out.” He paused, looking grave and older somehow. “It was Cinnamon, two bullets to the head, execution style.”
Carly’s coffee cup stopped midway to her mouth. “No way.”
“I couldn’t believe it myself.” His voice lowered to a whisper. “When I got there, they were still waiting on the coroner to check her for ID. I told Corbin who she was. His team drew the case.”
“Did you tell him we talked to her the other night?”
“No, after I told him who I thought she was, he really wasn’t interested in what I had to say. I told him I knew her from my beat. She was quite a ways out of her neighborhood when she was killed.”
Carly set her cup down. Did this new twist have something to do with Jeff’s ravings? I trust Joe, no matter what Jeff said. “I think I should tell you about a strange conversation I had with Jeff Hanks.”
“Jeff Hanks? The guy in dope?”
Carly nodded and gave Joe the play-by-play.
Joe listened
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