The Detective(21)

She circled her arms around my neck from behind. “What are you doing in here?”

“Working.” I pointed to the map. “I think I just figured out something important.”

“Oh yeah?” she asked.

I nodded. “Either there’s another missing woman in Asheville or there’s about to be.”

She yawned. “Is it going to happen before breakfast?”

“Uh, I don’t think so.”

She tugged on my arm. “Then come back to bed with me. You can figure it out tomorrow.”

* * *

The next morning, I went for an early run before Shannon woke up, and on my way back to the apartment stopped and got the mail that had been piling up in my mailbox all week long. When I walked back through my front door, I could smell sausage sizzling in the kitchen. Shannon, still wearing nothing but my t-shirt, was standing at the stove.

“Breakfast?” I asked, walking up behind her.

She looked back over her shoulder as I deposited the mail on the counter and slipped my arms around her waist. “I found the sausage in the freezer, but it didn’t have a date on it, so I’m praying it doesn’t kill us. The only thing else you have to eat here is an alarming amount of candy.”

I laughed. “That’s why I run.” I kissed the bend of her neck as she turned a patty. “I could get used to this.”

A small moan escaped her throat. “Do you have to work today?”

I nodded and pulled away from her. “Yeah.” I started flipping through the mail on the counter. “And as much as the guys at work would love to meet you, you’ll have to stay here.”

“I assumed as much. I brought my laptop to keep myself busy,” she said.

Underneath my March copy of Maxim magazine was a flyer for Daycon Securities. I picked it up and read it aloud. “Top of the line wireless security… remote web and mobile access… secure remote video monitoring.”

She giggled. “You really do need a security system to protect your television and recliner.”

I pinched her side. “Shut up.” Leaning against the counter, I tapped the flyer against my forehead. Dots were desperately trying to connect in my brain when it hit me. “Remote web access.”

“What?” she asked.

Excited, I kissed her cheek. “I swear I think better when you’re here.”

She held up a piece of sausage to my lips. “I’ll take that as a compliment.”

I bit into it and smiled. “I’m going to go take a shower.”

“Need some help?”

I laughed as I backed out of the kitchen. “Woman, I’ll never get to work!”





NINE





IF I WERE a skipping kind of guy, I would have skipped into the office that morning.

Margaret noticed my chipperness and lowered her reading glasses to look at me. “Morning, Detective.”

I slapped my palm down on the surface of her desk. “Good morning, Marge! Glorious day, isn’t it?”

Her right eyebrow peaked. “You’re making me nervous.”

I rubbed my palms together. “It’s going to be a good day. I can feel it!”

“Good luck with that,” she said, chuckling to herself.

“Marge, have you seen Detective Reese yet this morning?” I asked.

She shook her head. “Not yet. Want me to try and get ahold of him for you?”

I knocked my knuckles against the table top before stepping toward the office door. “Nah, I’ll take care of it. Have a great day.”

She went back to pecking away on her computer keyboard. “You too, Nathan.”

The office was quieter than usual, but it was Friday, so that wasn’t a surprise. Lieutenant Carr’s office door was closed, and his light was off. I silently thanked God for small blessings. As I walked to my office, I pulled out my cell phone and called Reese.

“Yo,” he answered.

“Where are you?”

“Pulling in the lot,” he said.

I stuck my key into my door. “Awesome. Meet me in my office.”

“10-4.” The line went dead.

Turning on the light as I entered, I dropped my stuff on my desk and flipped on my desktop computer. As it booted, I picked up the office phone and punched in the extension for the jail on the back of the property.

“Master control,” a man answered.

“This is Detective McNamara. I need inmate trustee Dennis Morgan sent to my office as soon as someone can escort him over,” I said.

“Roger that, Detective,” he said.

I cradled the receiver just as Reese walked through my door, shaking his head as he crossed the room. “You’re way too productive too early this morning.” He flopped down in one of my arm chairs. “What’s going on.”