THE BRIDGE
it.”
    “Neither do I, sir.”
    “Now, do your job and—” he waved one hand over the box on his desk “—take this thing with you.”
    Sean picked up the box and walked out of the captain’s office, his back stiff and his chin held high. If just one person mentioned his father, he’d deck ’em.
    He strode down the hallway, holding the box in front of him, daring anyone to make a comment. Nobody even seemed to notice what he was holding.
    Blowing out a breath, he poked his head into the lab. “I think you guys are waiting for a finger.”
    Tom Kwan, one of their forensic guys, smirked. “I could go all out with the black humor of that comment, but you already look like you’re in a black humor so I’ll keep my mouth shut.”
    “Good idea, Kwan.” Sean placed the box on one of the chrome tables. He could exchange gallows humor with the best of them. It blew off steam, made the unbearable bearable. But with Elise out there in danger, it didn’t seem right.
    “When are we getting the finger, and I don’t mean from the captain.” Jacoby had burst through another door and stopped short when he saw Sean. “I guess you heard.”
    “Heard,” Sean flicked the box, “and saw. We’ve got one twisted individual on our hands. I thought he’d kept the finger as a trophy.”
    “I’m gonna take the print, but we all know it belongs to Katie. Same blue polish, same missing digit. Elise Duran was one lucky lady.”
    Kwan tapped his chin. “I wonder if he took the finger before or after he killed her. That’s gotta hurt.”
    “I’ll leave you to figure that out. I’m outta here.” Sean backed out of the lab with a queasy stomach. Kwan’s morbid fascinations had never bothered him before. Before Elise.
    That’s why you never make it personal, son.
    His father’s voice rumbled up from Sean’s subconscious. Where had that come from? Was it something his father actually said to him?
    Jacoby’s head popped out of the lab door. “Brody, I meant to tell you, I didn’t get any prints from Elise’s house other than Elise’s.”
    “Yeah, I guess that’s what we figured anyway.”
    “Her house was clean. Doesn’t look like she has anyone over—ever.”
    Sean raised an eyebrow. “And your point?”
    Jacoby shrugged his pumped-up shoulders. “Just thought I’d let you know. In case you want to make a move.”
    “Why, do you?”
    “You’re the hotshot detective.” Jacoby dove back into the lab to dodge the barb Sean was getting ready to fling at him.
    Sean dropped into his chair and shuffled through a few messages at his desk. Nothing from Elise. That didn’t mean he couldn’t check on her. He should’ve never kissed her, but it didn’t mean he couldn’t call her. Did it?
    He dug into the pocket of his jacket and pulled out Courtney Chu’s business card. She’d scribbled her home phone number on the back.
    He ran his thumb along the edge of the card once, twice and then punched in the number. With each successive ring, the knots got tighter in his gut. When he got Courtney’s voice mail, the words rasped from his dry throat.
    “This is Detective Brody. I’m calling...”
    “Hello, Sean? It’s Elise.”
    Her breathy voice capped his growing dread, and he slumped in his chair. “For a minute there, I thought you two had gone out.”
    “My leg’s feeling okay but not that good, and Courtney stayed in with me and cooked dinner.”
    “Your leg’s bothering you? Do you need to go back to the hospital?”
    “It’s throbbing a bit, but I can handle it with a little ibuprofen.”
    “Take a lot if you need it.”
    “Any new developments in the case?”
    “Some things I can’t share.”
    “Not even with someone who’s intimately involved...with the case?”
    Sean hunched over his desk and cupped his hand around the receiver. “I’m sorry about...about what happened in the hallway.”
    “No apology necessary, but an explanation would be nice.”
    “An explanation?” Maybe he’d have to

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