Criminal puzzles In Texas

Chapter Six

Victoria stood in front of the mirror, smoothing the front of her tailored blazer with a steadying hand. The morning sun spilled through the bathroom window, casting warm streaks of gold across the sink and tiles. Her reflection stared back — calm, collected, professional. But beneath the surface, her nerves simmered like a storm just out of sight.
Her fingers hovered over her necklace, adjusting it slightly, then she checked the time. She had half an hour before her official check-in. Samantha had already left for school, still buzzing from yesterday’s discovery of the backyard pool and already mapping out her swim schedule. It helped, knowing her daughter had something to look forward to — something to distract from the upheaval of the move.
The air in the house was quiet now, filled with the low hum of the refrigerator and the occasional creak of settling beams.
Victoria grabbed her ID, a folder of onboarding paperwork, and her keys, then slipped out the front door and into the crisp Texas morning.
San Antonio spread wide around her as she drove — historic buildings shoulder to shoulder with clean-lined modern towers, mesquite trees casting dappled shade over sidewalks still wet from the early watering cycles. The roads were already humming with commuters, but traffic flowed easily enough. Her GPS directed her past the old mission district and toward the west side of the city.
The CSI complex rose like a pale monolith from a landscaped block, all sleek marble, glass, and brushed steel. The building was shaped like an elongated oval, curved at the edges, with two main wings stretching out like open arms. A badge of authority and innovation — imposing, but not cold.
She parked in the visitor lot and stared at the entrance for a bit longer than necessary. This was it. First day, new department. New boss.
Alan.
The name curled around her thoughts with frustrating ease.
It had been sixteen years, and still, she remembered everything — the quiet intensity in his voice, the way he stood when he was explaining something he believed in, his dry humor laced with precision. And those damn sunglasses. He had a way of wearing them indoors without ever seeming ridiculous, like they were a natural extension of his self-possession.
Back then, he’d carried himself with the kind of quiet confidence most people had to fake. She’d been twenty-five, green but eager, and he had been the name everyone already knew. She’d thought it was just a professional crush — until one night proved otherwise.
Victoria shut off the engine and stepped out into the morning warmth, adjusting her jacket again before making her way through the revolving doors.
The lobby was bright and high-ceilinged, a calm expanse of polished marble and soft lighting. A digital screen behind the reception desk scrolled through recent departmental achievements — accolades, updates, commendations.
The receptionist, a cheerful woman with coiled hair and a smart navy blouse, looked up with a practiced smile.
“Good morning! New arrival?”
“Yes,” Victoria said. “Detective Victoria Stewart. I’m transferring in today. I’m here to check in with Lieutenant Alan Caine.”
The name still tasted strange in her mouth, even though she’d rehearsed it in her head all morning.
The woman’s eyebrows lifted slightly, not in surprise, but recognition. “Ah, yes — he mentioned you’d be arriving. One moment.” She typed quickly, then handed Victoria a printed badge and a small info packet.
“You’ll want to head straight down that corridor — last door on the left. You’ll see his name on the glass. He’s expecting you.”
“Thanks,” Victoria replied, her voice level despite the steady drumbeat of nerves in her chest.
The corridor stretched out in front of her, long and bright with clean-lined sconces casting diffused light along the cream walls. Framed photos lined one side — glimpses into past casework, community collaborations, retired honors.
She walked slowly, her heels echoing faintly on the tiled floor, taking in the environment. Through narrow windows, she caught glimpses of labs already in motion — gloved techs bent over microscopes, slides under light, evidence trays being cataloged with precise labels.
This wasn’t just a workplace. It was a machine — efficient, sharp-edged, fast-moving. She was going to have to prove herself again, all over.
And Alan was at the center of it.
Her steps slowed as she reached the last door.
There it was: Lieutenant A. Caine etched neatly into the frosted glass. The light inside glowed amber through slatted blinds. A dark silhouette moved — tall, shoulders squared, hands tucked into his pockets. Just like she remembered.
Victoria stopped. Her heart thudded once, hard, before she drew a quiet breath. She wasn’t ready. Not yet. Not for him to see her face.
She turned slightly, taking in the layout of the office wing. Several doors nearby were still closed — the rest of the team probably hadn’t trickled in yet. She had a few minutes.
She took the long way around the corridor, absorbing the rhythm of the place. There was a forensics suite behind tinted doors, another labeled “Trace & Audio” with faint humming behind it, and one with a subtle plaque: Dr. A. Thomas, Chief Medical Examiner.
Names she would come to know soon. Colleagues she’d be working alongside.
She glanced again toward the end of the hall.
Just a few more steps, and it would begin. But not today. Not this moment. She needed one last breath of stillness before the world shifted again.
Victoria sat down on the bench by the window and pulled out her badge, running her thumb over its smooth surface.
She didn’t know what Alan remembered, or what he’d see when he looked at her now. But tomorrow, or the next — they’d face it.
For now, she just stared out at the morning light spilling over the city and gathered her composure.