The Detective

Chapter 15 - Bingo

For the rest of my weekend with Shannon, I was flooded with phone calls from my mother, my sister, and even Chuck. Lara was the least delicate of the bunch, threatening my life if I married Shannon or accidentally got her pregnant. Mom was polite, but she apologized for forcing the family dinner so quickly. And Chuck...well, his response was 'If it doesn't work out, send her my way. She's hot and I'm sure she can make a sandwich.' He's a classy dude, my brother.

We didn't go to the game either. I didn't even get to watch it on television because Shannon wanted to go see some romantic comedy with that blond chick from Grey's Anatomy, whose last name looks like a vagina exercise. It was an excellent way to spend a Saturday. Right.

Shannon left early on Sunday and I watched the game on DVR. But because I have a police scanner, I already knew who won. It wasn't nearly as much fun watching, knowing State lost 63 to 54.

And before I knew it, Monday arrived and I was pulling back into my parking space at the sheriff's office—at the exact same time as the lieutenant. I muttered a few explicatives before getting out of my SUV.

"Good morning, Lieutenant." I carried my hazelnut coffee around his car. "Did you have a nice weekend?"

"Reese said that you made a connection with the break-ins." He slammed his driver's side door. "Why wasn't I briefed on it?"

The muscle worked in my jaw as I tried to calm my temper. "You were out on Friday, sir."

"I have a phone."

I nodded and fell in step behind him. "Yes, but there was no reason to bother you on your day off, so I decided to wait until first thing this morning."

He spun on his heel toward me. "Detective, you're on thin ice with me as it is. I don't think you're pulling your weight on this case. So I suggest that any time you have even the smallest crumb of information, you pass it along to me directly." Droplets of spit sprayed my sunglasses. "Your job depends on it!"

Frozen to the ground, I watched as he stormed inside the building. What I had done to make him hate me so much, I wasn't sure. This conversation confirmed it though; Carr was gunning for my job. After a moment, I trudged inside after him.

Marge looked worried. "You all right?"

"You heard that?"

She just nodded.

I forced a smile. "I'm fine. How was your weekend?"

"The grandbaby shoved seven rolls of toilet paper down the toilet, then flushed it." She looked at me and frowned. "He's a little less cute now."

I laughed. "Have a good day, Marge."

"You too, Detective." She smiled. "Keep your chin up."

Sucking in a deep breath, I pushed the office door open and walked in like I hadn't just been verbally kicked in the nuts outside. When I went into my office, I shut the door behind me, but by the time I'd made it around to my desk Reese had reopened it and walked in.

"Morning, sunshine," he said.

"Ugh."

He sat down across from me. "That good, huh?"

I relayed the conversation with our boss.

When I was finished, he shook his head. "What's the deal with you two? Did you screw his daughter or something?"

I tossed my hands up. "I don't freaking know!"

He folded his hands behind his head. "There's got to be a reason."

I rolled my eyes. "Well, I hope I figure it out before he fires me."

Reese smirked. "He's not going to fire you."

"Easy for you to say." I turned on my computer. "Please tell me there wasn't another break-in over the weekend."

He shook his head. "Quiet as church."

"That's good." I tapped a pen against my desk. "I doubt there will be any more."

"Really?"

I nodded. "Yeah. They upped the ante to homicide now. They're scared."

He blew out a slow breath. "I hope you're right. So you think they were just after the cash?"

The question made me think. "I don't know if it was just the money or the thrill of getting away with it too. You should've seen how Morgan lit up the other day, telling me about what he could pull off as a hacker."

He grinned. "Think it's Morgan?"

I laughed. "That would be impressive." I pulled out a pad of sticky notes. "I need to remember to go check and make sure he got his zombie shows this weekend." In all caps, I wrote 'SEE DENNIS MORGAN' and stuck it to the top of my computer screen.

My office phone beeped, and Marge's voice came over the loudspeaker. "Detective McNamara, the State Crime Lab is on line four."

"Thanks, Marge. Put 'em through." I looked at Reese. "Cross your fingers." I pressed the blinking line four button on my phone and left the speaker on. "Detective McNamara," I said.

Reese got up and closed my office door.

"Good morning, Detective," a woman said. "My name is Deborah Jacobs at the State Crime Lab. We met last year on the Hilton murder case."

My brain churned on her name. Deborah Jacobs—brunette, mid-forties, double-D's. "Hi, Deborah. I remember you. What can I do for you?"

"I wanted to let you know that we were able to pull a fingerprint off your murder weapon."

I bolted upright in my seat. "Oh, really?"

Reese leaned over my desk toward the phone.

"We lifted a right thumb print off the barrel. And we have a match for it."

I stood so quickly, I knocked over my office chair. "Who is it?"

"I'm sending over the info now, but his name is Kyle Anthony Culver. Twenty-seven, lives in Millbrook." Papers rustled on her end of the line. "He was fingerprinted during a college internship for a weapons vulnerability software company in Raleigh."

I slammed my palms down on the desk. "Bingo."

Reese backed toward the door. "I'll get the DA on the phone."

"Thank you, Deborah. I owe you my first-born," I said.

She chuckled. "Not necessary. Check your email."

After disconnecting the call, I downloaded her report to my computer and printed two copies. One of them, I carried straight to Carr's office. The door was closed, but I walked in anyway. The sheriff was sitting in front of his desk, but I didn't care.

The lieutenant's face flushed red with anger. "McNamara, what makes you think you can just barge in here—"

I cut him off by slamming the report down on his desk with the full force of my hand. "There's your shooter, Lieutenant."

The sheriff stood and leaned over the desk. "The Withers girl's murderer?"

I looked down at him. "Exactly. The State Crime Lab just called."

Sheriff Tipper slapped me on the back. "Good work, son."

"Reese is getting started with the warrant, sir." I lowered my head so I was eye-level with him. "I may need you to make a phone call to help push this through, so I can go get this guy immediately."

He nodded. "Of course I will. Go get him."

I smiled, my heart pounding with excitement. "10-4, sir."

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