Dead Woman Crossing by J.R. Adler (books on motivation .txt) 📗

you take the first six months of notebooks and run all the names through our criminal database? Anything that pulls, I want to see it right away.”

The deputies nodded, opening up their laptops and flipping through the spirals.

Kimberley didn’t see the point in any of this. This was supposed to be the burn room, but with Sam’s shortness and abrasiveness, it was becoming like a walk-in freezer to Kimberley.

She opened up a notebook, logged into the criminal database on her laptop, and started running the names through it too. The sooner she got Sam’s wild-goose chase done, the sooner she could focus on actually solving Hannah Brown’s murder.

Sam stood up and left the room without a word. Kimberley was unsure if he’d return and with the way he’d been acting, she hoped he wouldn’t. But less than five minutes later, he reentered the room with his laptop. He got to work running the names through the criminal database on his computer as well, not saying a word.

“How do we know these people wrote down their real names?” Kimberley asked.

“We don’t.” He didn’t look up at her. His response was curt.

“What can I help with?” Barb asked.

“Coffee,” Sam said, pushing his cup toward her.

Barb pursed her lips but picked up the carafe and filled his cup anyway.

Kimberley looked over at Barb and then at Sam. Something was wrong, because he wasn’t just being rude and short with Kimberley. He was doing it to Barb too.

An hour or so in, all the notebooks combined had produced a decent quantity of hits, but none so far that would suggest murder. Almost everything had related to speeding, drunk driving, late child-support payments, and petty theft. The most severe cases of battery and domestic abuse cases were often spurred on by fits of drunken stupor and were messy and loud ordeals, nothing like the calculated cleanliness of the scene at hand. Bearfield and Hill had packed up to go and patrol as there wasn’t much else for them to do here.

Sam leaned back in his chair. Kimberley matched his stance, leaning back in hers. Barbara was still combing through the notebooks. She wanted to double-check everything, although Kimberley didn’t know exactly what she was double-checking, but she appreciated the effort.

“Alright, I’m going to head out. I’ll pick this back up tomorrow,” Sam said, standing up from his chair.

Kimberley looked at her watch. It was a little after three in the afternoon, quite early for Sam to be leaving work, especially since there was an unsolved murder in his town. Kimberley shook her head, trying to shake Sam and the day off of her. He had been rude all afternoon, so she was glad to see him go. Maybe he’d be better tomorrow.

“I’m surprised he came in at all,” Barb said, looking up from the notebook.

“What do you mean? Is he sick?” Kimberley leaned forward in her chair, tilting her head.

He hadn’t seemed sick, but maybe Sam was one of those tough guys that didn’t look sick, injured, or hurt, even when they were.

“It’s just a tough day for him,” Barb said, flipping a page.

Kimberley furrowed her brow.

“Why? What’s today?” she pried.

“It’s not my story to tell. I’ll pass out the cookies, but not the tea. Isn’t that what them younglings call it these days?” she said with a laugh.

Kimberley pursed her lips together.

“Oh, I’ve gotta go pick up my grandson. I’ll come in early tomorrow to go over these again.” Barbara said, rising from her chair.

Kimberley was too wrapped up in thinking about Sam and her case to say anything other than, “Sure.”

Barb told Kimberley to have a good night before collecting her things and leaving.

She turned her chair around, facing the whiteboard. Hannah’s name was in the center and her web of people around her—co-workers, Kimberley, Isobel, Tyler, daycare center staff, her mom Lisa. She could see the problem right in front of her. They knew nothing about Hannah Brown.

Her cell phone rang and she quickly answered it.

“Chief Deputy King.”

“Hey, this is Officer Cariello from Houston Police Department. Apologies for the delay. Took a while to track down Mr. Tyler Louis. We spoke to one of his neighbors. Tyler’s out on an offshore oil platform, thirty miles off the coast. He’s completely unreachable.”

“Shit. When will he be reachable?”

“He’s due back on land tomorrow afternoon.”

Kimberley breathed a sigh of relief.

“Good. Can you make sure he calls me?”

“Sure thing.”

“I appreciate it, Officer Cariello. You have a good night,” Kimberley said, ending the call.

She looked down at her watch. Somehow, she had gotten so caught up in the case and Sam that it was now after five. There was nothing more she was going to accomplish tonight. She was just going around and around in circles, like she was on a merry-go-round that never stopped. Everything was a blur and just out of reach. She packed up her stuff and headed out of the office to her Ford.

26

At the four-way stop, Kimberley glanced over at The Trophy Room. It had reopened, which she figured it would, since Ryan had made bail earlier in the day. There were a few men standing outside—the same men that were there every night, their faces engulfed in puffs of smoke. Kimberley glanced at the parking lot, spotting Sam’s vehicle. What in the hell was he doing at The Trophy Room? She put her foot on the gas, but at the last minute, jerked her car left, pulling into the lot. Kimberley parked her car right beside Sam’s vehicle. She wasn’t sure what it was he was doing here, but she was going to find out.

Kimberley stared down the men as she walked past them into the bar. Two of them averted their eyes, the others stood their ground, puffing out their chests, raising their chins, and narrowing their eyes. They knew who she was, and Kimberley was sure they held her responsible for having their precious watering hole closed for one night.

Entering the bar was the same as the past