“If you can call a Popsicle busy, I’m swamped.”
I start toward her desk, pulling my note pad from my pocket. “Can you research something for me?”
Her eyes light up, and I forgive her for the mini skirt. “I’d love to.”
I reach her desk and flip through my pad. Finding the sheet I’m looking for—a page on which I’ve written down the names of everyone involved with the disappearances—and I tear it from the pad. “Take these names and hit a few search engines. See what pops.”
“You looking for anything in particular?”
“A written confession on some blog would be nice,” I mutter.
She hefts a laugh. “That might be just a tad optimistic, Chief.”
I motion toward the paper in her hand. “Some of the people on the list aren’t directly related to the disappearances, but I still want to look at them.” Sometimes those are the people whose names eventually make their way to the top.
“Tax records?” she asks.
“Sure. Anything you can think of.”
“When do you need it by?”
“Yesterday.”
I spend an hour catching up on administrative tasks and following up on queries I put out the previous day. The CSU working the scene where Mandy Reiglesberger saw Sadie Miller calls at 8:00 A.M. and informs me the blood found at the scene is indeed human. As is usually the case, the lab is backlogged and the blood typing and DNA will take a few days. But at least now I’m relatively certain we’re dealing with a crime scene. Not the news I wanted to start my day off with.
Tomasetti calls midmorning and I relay the news.
“Damn.” He sighs. “I wanted to let you know we executed the search warrant for Stacy Karns’s house and property. Get this: We found a photograph of Annie King.”
Shock punches me hard. “Karns shot the photo? It’s his work?”
“He’s not talking. But it looks like his style. You know, black and white and kind of noir. There’s a definite sexual element.”
“That son of a bitch lied to us.”
“Makes you wonder what else he lied about, doesn’t it?”
“It makes me wonder if he had a relationship with her.”
“Does he have an alibi for the night Sadie Miller disappeared?”
“He’s not talking. Asked for a lawyer. We’re waiting for him now.”
“Bastard.” I realize I’m grinding my teeth and make myself stop. “That makes him look guilty. Like he’s hiding something.”
“I don’t know if it will stick, but we took him into custody on an obstruction charge. He’s cooling his heels here at the county jail.”
I think about what this means in terms of the case, in terms of finding Sadie. “Tomasetti, the photo you found. Is it pornographic?”
“She’s topless. Her back is turned to the camera, but part of one of her breasts is visible.”
Fury stirs in my chest, but I tamp it down. I can’t afford to let those emotions out of their cage. I know from experience they can suck the energy right out of you. “So we’ve got him,” I say harshly. “Even if we can’t get him on murder, we’ve got him on child porn.”
“Second offense, so he’ll do time,” he tells me. “As soon as I get a scan of the photo, I’ll e-mail it to you.”
“An underage Amish girl.” I spit the words. “What kind of man does something like that?”
“Pedophile. Sociopath. Self-important prick. Take your pick. If I get the chance, I’ll take a shot at him for you.”
“I hate to admit it, but you’re actually making me feel better.”
“That’s my girl.”
“What really pisses me off about this is that he’ll use this as publicity to promote his photographs and books.”
“Nothing we can do about that.”
“Do you think he killed Annie King?” I ask.
The miles between us hiss; then he says, “I don’t know. Initially, I didn’t think so. I still don’t, really. But, Kate, that photograph and the fact that he lied to us are hard to ignore.”
The connection between Karns and Annie King is undeniable. So why don’t I feel better about it? “Have you found a connection between Karns and any of the others?”
“Nothing yet, but we’ve confiscated his computer. We’ve got a lot of material to comb through.”
The silence that follows lingers an instant too long and I sense our thoughts have ventured back to this morning. “What about you, Kate?” he asks. “Everything okay there?”
“The CSU finished processing the scene.” I’m well aware that he wasn’t asking about the case, but I fall back into cop mode anyway. Safer ground, I realize, and not just for me. “There wasn’t much.” Thinking of the blood, I sigh. “The traffic-accident specialist tried to piece together what might have happened, but he didn’t have enough for a definitive scenario. He suspects the victim may have been struck by a vehicle and received abrasions from the asphalt.”
At this point, that’s a best-case scenario, but neither of us says it.
“Are you driving up here?” he asks.
“I hate to leave with Sadie still missing, but I’m spinning my wheels here.”
“Kate . . . I wanted to tell you I know I shouldn’t have laid all that on you this morning,” he says. “I mean about moving in together.”
“It’s okay,” I say quickly. “You just caught me off guard.”
“Bad timing on my part.”
“It was just . . . unexpected. Things are a little muddled for me right now. I mean with the case. I think I just need a little space.” I cringe, hating the way the words sounded, wishing I could somehow take them back.
He sighs. “They’re getting ready to interview Karns. I’ve got to get in there.”
In that instant, more than anything else in the world, I want to be there. I want to be with Tomasetti. I want to be there when they question Karns. If the man is guilty of murdering Annie King, there’s a high probability he’s involved with the disappearance of Sadie Miller.
“Tomasetti?”
“Yeah?”
A hundred words dangle on my tongue. I want to say something that will make all of this awkwardness between us go away. I want to let him know we’re okay, that things really aren’t muddled and the problem is that I suck at honest communication, especially when there’s so much at stake.
“I’m thinking about it,” I blurt.
The statement needs no explanation. “Okay,” he tells me.
I close my eyes. “Let me know how it goes with Karns.” And I hit END before he can respond.
I’ve barely hung up when my cell goes off. I look down and see Auggie’s name on the display and groan inwardly. For several seconds, I debate whether to answer, because I already know the direction in which the conversation will go.
“Kate, look, I just wanted to let you know I’ve talked to the county attorney about the charges against Bradford.” He begins the conversation as if my only thought in the world is the state of his son’s life. “I also spoke with Judge Seibenthaler. They suggested I speak with you. I thought we could discuss it and perhaps get the charges bumped down.”
“Auggie, I’ve got my hands full with the Sadie Miller case.”
“I’m not asking you to drop the charges. . . .”
He drones on as if I’m not there, and I realize that no matter how I handle this, I’m going to lose. I hit END, grab my keys off the desk, and leave my office.
In the reception area, I find Glock standing at Mona’s station. “I could shoot him for you,” he offers without preamble.
“Might not go over too well with the town council,” I say.
Mona snorts. “On the other hand, it might help get that new budget passed.”
“You know I could charge both of you with conspiracy to commit murder, right?”
The three of us break into laughter, and another layer of stress sloughs off my back.