Sketch of a Murder

Chapter 25

Chapter 25

Nita heard Dr. Nelson's light laugh drifting out of Lieutenant Williams' office as soon as she stepped off the elevator. His rumble followed quickly behind, a different kind of rumble than the one she was used to hearing. Relaxed?

As she hurried into the cramped office, Dr. Nelson's smile stayed in place, but his smile quickly pulled a fade-out. She stood at ease in front of his desk. "Might have found something useful for a change."

He struck his favorite pose-settled in his chair, hands clasped loosely over the small belly roll he called his 'famine insurance.' "Well?" His deep voice held none of the mellow she'd heard while in the hall.

"Christina Ryan identified the composite sketch as a close resemblance to a past client at Sisters shelter. Tamara Hines."

He gave his head a half turn and flipped one hand over, palm up while staring at her. "That gives us what?"

"Not completely sure yet. Hines isn't The Avenger..."

"Why couldn't she be? Aren't you the one blathering on and on about how our perp might be a woman?"

Even when her shoulders stiffened she kept her voice even. "She's dead. Suicided two years ago."

"Hmph!" he grunted. "That's one way to be removed from our suspect pool. As interesting as this might be, how does it help us?" He stood and hitched up his pants. "Let's move this to the Command Center. More room in there."

She noticed he held the door for Dr. Nelson as they walked in. Hmmm. What's been going on with these two? She pushed the thought away. Abso-fucking-lutely none of my business.

They settled around the table; the overhead fluorescent light shimmered on the stray silver strands that were curled among the darker kinks of his hair. He looks like he's around my dad's age. A hint of bitterness pulled her lips into a sour frown.

"Well?" His demand broke into her wandering thoughts. "You going to sit there daydreaming or are you going to join us and figure out how this information might help?"

Embarrassed to be caught drifting in the muddy currents of thoughts best left to flow on by, she glanced at Dr. Nelson and the lieutenant. Damn, Nelson has that psych-doc look on her face, the one I always called 'nosy pity' whenever Mom made me go see Dr. Engel after Dad split. Hate that look, but at least it isn't just this side of hostile like the lieutenant's. What is it with the man? I look like an ex-wife, or what?

She derailed those thoughts and said in a level voice, "Thinking. Trying to line up my thoughts before I start talking."

With a sarcastic note in his voice, he asked, "Have all your ducks in a row yet?"

She caught a look flashing across Dr. Nelson's face. Exasperation with the lieutenant? No time to mull over what that might mean.

"Please continue," Dr. Nelson quietly encouraged.

"Tamara Hines failed to list any relatives, except her five-year-old son, Raymond Hines. Shortly after a custody hearing in which Tamara was given full physical custody of her son, during a weekend visit with the boy her ex-husband vanished, taking the child. Six months of searching turned up no real clues, but the PI was convinced Gavin Hines had left the country with Raymond. A few weeks later Tamara committed suicide."

He spread his hands, let them fall into his lap. "Sounds like a dead end to me."

Fist tapping lightly against her lips she held the lieutenant's eyes. "I don't think so."

"You believe there is an unnamed relative who is possibly our Avenger even though no relatives were listed with the shelter?"

The profiler sat very still, gaze absent. After a moment she blinked. "Between my contacts and Mr. Arneau's computer skills, one of us should be able to find a thread leading to Tamara Hines."

***

The following morning Arneau hollered as Nita walked past his open office door. "Come in here."

She twirled around and stepped into his doorway. "You look like hell. Girlfriend keep you up all night?"

"Girlfriend? Who has time for a girlfriend when they're married to a computer?" he quipped as she wove her way through the biggest office in the unit, and the one with the least floor space.

"How can you stand it in here?" she complained. "You probably don't have more than two square feet of open floor space. What are all these machines?" The wave of her hands encompassed the room.

"Not anything you would be familiar with." He didn't look up from the bluish light illuminating his computer screen. Lines of text scrolled from top to bottom.

She put a hand on the desktop and leaned towards the screen as his fingers flew across the keyboard with not a wasted stroke. "I can't get a report typed without having to go back and forth deleting and putting in letters I missed. You win the award for secretarial student of the year when you went to college?"

"Naw," he flashed a white-toothed grin up at her. "I won Admin Assistant of the Year."

She pulled her head back to stare at him. "You are kidding, right?"

"Nope. I was taking all the classes for a tech degree in Admin while I did my computer degree. Figured if I couldn't find a job in my chosen field there was always work for a good admin assistant. Sometimes it pays better, too."

"As tantalizing as this conversation is we need to get to the good stuff here. If I'm late again the lieutenant is going to fry me without using any butter."

"Okay, here it is." He tapped keys, the scrolling stopped, and he rolled his chair to one side. As she read from the screen, he summarized. "Tamara Hines, AKA Tamara Lyn Longshield. Worked in the town of Coos Bay, Oregon, at a place called 'Some Like It Hot.'"

When Nita's eyebrows shot north, he chuckled. "Not like that. It's a coffeehouse. Started in 1970 by a hippie commune. Still serving coffee, scones, and 'the best tea this side of China'-part of their advertisement," he smilingly disclaimed when she gave him a 'what-the-hell' look. "Tamara worked there from May 10, 1997 until June 15, 1999."