Chapter 8

• She listened carefully as Detective Jordan led her to the doorway of a large room filled with desks and busy people. He skimmed over the names of people in the room and explained what they were doing, not that she’d remember. She was shocked to see that so many people were working on the case, if she’d heard right there were six other officers and three people basically just answering tips calls. What are you doing here, Jac? She stood on the other side of the door hoping he wasn’t going to tell her to go in and jump right into things. She couldn’t work surrounded by this many people. Her mind was so preoccupied, causing her to miss whatever he said as he started walking away and going down the stairs. She caught up to him in time to hear that she would be working in the basement with him and his partner.
• Reid took his time following them downstairs. He stopped to talk to Daniel, who was waiting for calls on the hotline. There hadn’t been any calls that led anyone to believe anything would turn up. He looked over the latest list of dead-ends that had been checked out. Having nothing else to stall from going downstairs, he sighed and walked out the door.
• By the time he got downstairs his partner was setting files on the large table, and she was typing into her cell phone. He glanced at Brent who shrugged and sat down by the table.
• Jacinda’s phone rang before she could send the text message. She knew it was Sandy before she even answered it. Her friend was into her rant before she got a word spoke. “Sandy, I don’t care if it’s a dinner for the Queen of England, I can’t make it tonight.” She sighed and nodded. “Yes.” She sighed again. “I’ll call you if I get done earlier.” She nodded. “Fine.” With that she hung up the phone and stuffed it back in her pocket. She clasped her hands behind her back and looked at Detective Jordan. “Sorry.”
• He shrugged. “No worries.” He motioned to the files on the table. “That’s all we have at this point.
• She nodded and sat down at the table. “Okay.”
• ~
• Brent got up from his desk; after an hour of silence. Other than a few questions from Miss Brown, no one made a sound.
• Reid hadn’t moved from his desk either. Brent walked over to look at the monitor his partner was studying. His eyebrows shot up when he saw what his partner was doing.
• The normal database searches were open, and his brooding friend was digging into Miss Jacinda Brown’s past. Before he could be considered an accessory, he walked around and leaned against the desk. Reid looked up at him and shrugged. He cleared his throat. “I’m going to go get a coffee. Anyone want anything?” Reid nodded and looked back at the monitor.
• “No thanks.” Jac looked at him for a second then back down at the papers she had spread out on the table.
• When she heard him leave the room, she glanced up to see what Detective Merritt was doing. Satisfied he wasn’t paying any attention to her, she picked up the photos she’d been flipping face down as she read.
• Victim one, as it was labeled, she now knew as Clair White, age thirty-six, brown eyes, red hair, five foot ten inches and one hundred fifty pounds. Number two was Theresa Woodward, age twenty-seven, blue eyes, brown hair, five foot six inches and one hundred sixty pounds. The third, Desi Sloan, age thirty-one, brown eyes, black hair, five foot nine inches and one hundred forty-five pounds. She had only skimmed some of the reports and print-outs in the file, not understanding what the toxicology and laboratory tests actually said.
• She didn’t need to read Elaine’s file to know these women had nothing in common. They lived in different areas, were of different social statuses, their jobs weren’t similar, just as their appearance wasn’t.
• All had been dressed differently, and although it sent a chill up her spine, she knew from the reports that their clothing had been immaculately clean, if not freshly pressed.
• She looked over at the detective. “There is nothing remotely the same about these women.”
• He looked up from his computer. “Yeah, we know that.” He sat back and clasped his hands behind his head. “Now would be the time to impress me with that ability of seeing things no one else does.”
• Her shoulders dropped as he threw her words back at her. “Really? I wasn’t aware that I needed to impress you.” She stood up and stretched.
• He smirked. “If you can find anything remotely close to a lead, I’ll be impressed all to hell.”
• “Mmhmm.” She blocked him out and walked around the room. “You’d have checked places of employment, clubs, memberships…” She paused to look at him as he nodded. She sighed. Right now, she was wishing she hadn’t accepted that check from Mandy Azaire. “Have you…” Could it be as simple as money? “Checked financial activity?”
• He dropped his hands down. “It’s all in those folders; we checked credit card transactions, payroll…”
• “No.” She walked over and stood in front of his desk. “Not the usual things. Financial as in, inheritances, windfalls, trust funds…” She frowned. “Or if they’ve been in the news in any way, well, except Miss Azaire, I’m sure she has.”
• “Can we keep her?”
• They both looked around to see Detective Jordan walking back in carrying two coffee mugs and a bottle of water. He handed one mug to his frowning partner. “She’s thought of a few avenues we haven’t ventured down.”
• He turned around and handed her the water. Even though she had said she didn’t want anything, she opened it and took a drink. “So, give me a computer and I’ll do the one thing I do very well, research.”
• Detective Merritt still hadn’t said a word; he just sat there watching her. He watched Brent lead her over to a computer in the corner.
• Jac sat down, careful to not let her hands rest on the desk or chair. This was something she knew she could help with. She watched the detective type in a password then motioned to the keyboard.
• “Database programs we access are in the menu.”
• “Thank you, detective Jordan.” She rummaged around in her purse. If she put on gloves to type, she’d probably be escorted out. She’d have to type fast and not let her hands linger on the keyboard.
• He smiled. “Brent.” She beamed up at him as she pulled her hair with quick motions up into a hair clip.
• “Thank you, Brent.”
• Reid looked over at her for a minute as she began entering names into the search.
• Brent sat back at his desk and grinned over at him. “I’ll call the Captain.”
• Reid just nodded without looking away from her. She may have found the lead. She turned and looked over at him.
• “How far back in the news am I going?”
• He shrugged. “Start with six months.”
• She nodded and turned back towards the screen.