Chapter 22

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

“Patterson!”

She jerked in her desk chair. After doing the research for Wolf, she had eaten a huge meal, gotten some paperwork done, and just found herself asleep in an upright position. Her mind coming online, she unfolded her arms and turned, recognizing Waze’s voice.

“Sir.”

Waze stood at the end of the squad room, a shoulder bag slung across his chest. He had been gone all afternoon at press conferences and meetings. He went to his door and unlocked his office. “Come in here, please.”

She stood. What time was it? Her watch said 4:25 p.m.

She jumped up and down a few times to get the blood moving. Her muscles relaxed as she walked through the squad room toward his office. Damn it. She hated that she had been caught sleeping. Maybe he hadn’t noticed.

“You in trouble?” Nelson asked.

She gave him a good-one smile and went to Waze’s door. “Sir? ”

“Come in, please. Sit.”

She entered and sat down. Annoyingly, he had the blinds to the windows behind him shut against the afternoon sun and the blinds closed to the well-lit squad room inside, creating a dungeon effect lit by the artificial bulbs above. When she’d been in this office at this time of day, she had always let in as much natural light at her back as possible. It had been her favorite time of day in the space.

“I saw your update on the APB.”

“Yes, sir.”

“What’s Wolf doing now?”

She checked her watch. 4:26. A minute had passed since the last time. She sucked in a breath, willing herself to fully wake up. “I’m not sure.”

“What’s new with the case?”

She told him about Dolores Russell and her son Mitch and the discovery of Dolores’s involvement with Lawrence Hunt.

“They’re for sure dating?”

“I sent you links to the Facebook account,” she said.

He tapped his keyboard, and she waited while he pulled up her email. A minute later, he sat back, staring at the screen. “Okay, yeah. Definitely looks like it. So…what now?”

“Wolf and the sheriff went to talk to the seller of the Honda Civic. They got a phone number Hunt was using to communicate with the man. I did a trace on the number, and found it was shut off immediately after being used up in Green River. Hunt either ditched the phone, or he’s using multiple SIMs. And the phone he’s using doesn’t have GPS.”

Waze sat back. “The guy’s clever. I’ll give him that.”

“Former Green Beret,” Patterson said .

Waze bridged his fingers. “And what about this call I got from Lorber that Rachette’s brake lines were cut last night at his kid’s baseball game?”

She blinked, shifting upright. “Excuse me?”

“You didn’t hear?”

“No. I didn’t. I mean, I was there. He said he had brake issues. I didn’t know they were cut.”

Waze folded his arms. “Severed with ‘sharp ass tin snips,’ as Lorber put it.”

“Any fingerprints?”

“No. Nothing.”

She shook her head. “Shit.”

“Yeah. Where’s he now?”

“He’s home,” she said. “Taking the day…after last night. He texted me and said it was a late one.”

“But he didn’t mention that he took the truck to Lorber and got him to look at it?”

She shook her head.

“Why would he keep that from you?” Waze asked.

“Good question.”

“And why would he not be answering my calls?” he asked.

She blinked. “I’m not sure, sir.”

“This is big,” he said. “That’s attempted murder. And now poof. Where is he?”

She shook her head again, thinking back on the night prior. He had been acting so strange, and now she knew he had known right then and there what had happened. Why was he hiding it? She pulled out her phone and checked. No missed calls.

“Are you listening to me?” he asked.

She lowered her phone. “Excuse me? ”

“I said keep me 100 percent in the loop on this.”

“Yes, sir.”

“I’m not liking the direction this is going.”

“No, sir.” She stood up. “I’ll get on this.”

Waze turned to his computer. “Bye.”

Back out in the squad room, she went to Nelson’s desk. “Have you seen or heard from Rachette today?”

“He was in first thing this morning,” Nelson said.

“He was? I didn’t see him.”

“I think you weren’t in yet.” She must have been at Yates’s.

“What did he say?”

Nelson thought about it. “Not much. Actually, he seemed preoccupied…went to his desk, did something on the computer, then left. Haven’t seen him since.”

She sat back in her chair. “Damn it, Rachette,” she breathed, dialing his number. “What are you doing?”

The phone went straight to voicemail without ringing as if it had been turned off. “Rachette,” she said. “It’s me. Give me a call when you get this. Immediately.”

She hung up and tried to get into the mind of Rachette.

His family had been threatened. What would she have done in this same situation? With a lack of evidence, there would be little to do except stay vigilant with her husband and children in plain sight.

She looked over at Charlotte’s desk, which sat vacant. She had every second Friday off, and she hadn’t been in today.

Patterson dialed her number.

“Hello?”

“Hey, it’s me. Is Tom there?”

“No. He’s supposed to be with you. ”

“Oh. Okay, never mind.”

“Wait a minute. What’s going on? He came home really late last night. He said everything was figured out, but he was acting weird.”

“Nothing,” Patterson said. “He just left and I thought he went home. I think he was going to get food. I’ll call him back.”

“I can’t get hold of him. It keeps going straight to voicemail.”

“He’s probably just eating, screening everyone. He does that, you know.”

“Not to me.”

“It’s okay. Listen, I’ll keep you posted.” Patterson hung up.

“What did he do now?” Nelson asked.

She dialed Lorber’s number. The ME answered on the first ring.

“Hey, what’s up?”

“Hey,” Patterson said, “What happened with Rachette last night?”

“With his brake lines? Did you not hear?”

“Yeah, I know about it. I just want to know what happened last night exactly.”

“Okay. He called me at eight or so, all in a fit. Had me come down and examine his truck at the lab. He got a tow truck to bring it in for him.”

“And?”

“And it was clear the lines had been cut. Severed with tin snips.”

“No fingerprints?”

“None,” Lorber said. “I dusted every piece of metal on the underside and outside of that truck, and there wasn’t anything but his and his family’s prints. Took me three hours.”

“Okay. And did he mention who might have done it?”

“No. He said he had no clue.”

“Okay. Fine. Thank you.”

She hung up and stared out the windows. Without evidence, there was nothing Rachette could do, right?

Unless he had evidence and he wasn’t telling anyone.

“You idiot,” she said under her breath, standing up. “What are you doing?”

“You need help?” Nelson asked.

She shook her head. “No thanks.”

Snatching up her keys, she turned and left, headed to the only person she could picture offering any help when it came to the mind of Rachette: Yates.