Rebecca shook her head. “We’re tracking him down. The only contact number in her purse is a cell, and he’s not answering.”
“Hell of a way to find out about your wife and kid.” Jordan ran her hand over her jaw. “I don’t mean to be an ass, but I’m thinking it’s time to lay everything out on the table. Whatever issues we have, catching this guy needs to come first.”
Rebecca narrowed her eyes. “I don’t need you to tell me how to do my job. I’m well aware of how important catching this guy is.”
“Whoa!” Jordan held up her hands defensively. She stepped closer and lowered her voice. “I realize I may have rattled you at the bar, but that’s no reason to make this investigation more difficult.”
“First off.” Rebecca held up her finger. “You did not, nor can you, ever rattle me, and second, don’t for a minute think that I would let whatever personal issues you have get in the way of an investigation. It may behoove you to remember that you came to me, Special Agent Gray, not the other way around. My continued allowance of your involvement is a personal favor to your boss, nothing more.”
Jordan’s mouth dropped in shock. Rebecca lived up to every stereotype about redheads and tempers. She toyed with putting the Detective in her place and decided against it. What she really wanted to do was laugh. It had been a long time since anyone had spoken to her like that, and truth be told, when Detective Foxx got all worked up, she was downright beautiful. “I’m going to check on Riley. Please let me know if there are any developments in the case.”
Jordan spun around and walked off in search of her partner. She had a name at least and figured that a little homework of her own might produce a lead. First thing she was going to do was a little research on the victim’s husband. It wasn’t so far-fetched to imagine that the husband had something to do with it. Some lunatic commits a string of murders to cover the one that mattered. It was a sick thought, but Jordan had met enough wackos that she would buy anything these days.
She caught up to Matt and grabbed his elbow. “Come on.”
He looked relieved. This case wasn’t sitting too well with him. He preferred the high tech cases, the ones that required chasing white-collar criminals. The ones like this almost sent him over the edge. He didn’t do blood and guts.
“So, what’s your take on this?” Jordan asked after a few moments of silence, broken only by the well-tuned hum of her 370Z.
Matt shook his head. “This guy’s a fucking nut job. I’ve never seen someone mess women up like this. You gonna ask Redmond?”
Julien Redmond was a criminal profiler and a genius at giving them something out of nothing. Asking him meant alerting someone else that she and Matt were working a case that wasn’t technically the FBIs to work. Normally, she would worry about that, especially since Assistant Director Mitchell had specifically said under the radar. The less she pinged on the radar, the better. “I thought about it. Detective Foxx hasn’t given me the go ahead, but something tells me we are going to have to do some investigating outside of what we share with the CDD.”
“Think that’s a good idea?” Matt asked quietly.
Jordan shrugged. “Maybe, maybe not.”
“Don’t tick her off, Jordie. In case you hadn’t noticed, she’s not exactly thrilled the FBI is sticking its nose in where it doesn’t belong.” Matt’s tone held a friendly warning, but buried beneath that was something else. Something Jordan couldn’t quite put her finger on, but it was something akin to admiration, maybe even like. “She’s given us more than I thought she would; now she’s even letting us into the crime scenes. That’s more than the CDD has let us do before, and I’m guessing if we fuck it up, the shit will hit the fan.”
He didn’t have to say Assistant Director Mitchell would have their heads on a silver platter. It wouldn’t matter anyway, if Jordan messed everything up, she would feel worse about it than her boss could ever make her feel. Besides, staring into those lifeless eyes tonight had triggered a primal need inside her, and she knew that whatever it took, she would catch him. She would make him pay. “You don’t have to tell me, alright? I was there. I saw her face. I know what this means to her, to Julie and now to Detective Foxx. It’s personal. Believe me, I don’t intend to mess this up.”
“Good.” She could see Matt’s appeased smile in the dashboard’s glow. “Listen, I gotta ask you about Detective Foxx. Do you think she would…well, you suppose…”
Jordan had a sneaking suspicion of what he was trying to say and rather than help him, she opted to remain silent and prolong his misery.
“Hell, after this is over, I want to ask her out. You think she would be interested in me?”
The look he gave her was so innocent and hopeful that she didn’t think she could crush his feelings now. She had only seen him interested in one other woman in the time they had been partners. That had ended badly, and if Jordan was even half way right, this one wasn’t starting out so good either.
“I don’t know, Matty. I think you would have your hands full with that one.” It was the safe answer she knew, but something told her to go with safe for now. “She’s certainly attractive, though.”
“Yeah, yeah, she is.” Matt agreed appreciatively. “Can you imagine the make-up sex a fight with her would lead to?"
Truth be told, Jordan might have already thought of that. Detective Foxx didn’t do anything half-heartedly. She could only assume that her bedroom manner mirrored her fiery personality. “Just keep this idea of yours on the DL for now. I’ve already overstepped our bounds with her, and I don’t want to give her anymore reason to shut the door on the little bit she is feeding us.”
“No, I know.” Matt shook his head up and down. “So, tomorrow we find the husband?”
Jordan smiled. She and Matt often thought alike, and tonight was no different. He had already figured out what she decided they would do anyway. “Yep, and we’ll see what Redmond thinks about this guy.”
Somehow, they drove to his place without realizing it. “Get some sleep, Matty. It’s gonna be busy tomorrow.”
“Ha, ha, I will.” He slid out of her car and poked his head back in. “I’ll bring coffee.”
“Thanks.” She threw him a mock salute and put the car in first, easing her foot off the clutch and lowering the gas pedal with skilled precision.
Here in her car, gliding through the deserted streets, was her sanctuary. At least, it should have been. Tonight, she couldn’t turn her mind off. She couldn’t make the events of the last few days stop colliding like pieces of flotsam floating around in troubled waters. She needed something to take the edge off, and when her car pulled up in front of her local bar, she knew she had no choice but to try and silence the voices with a little help.
Jordan slid on to a barstool and ordered a whiskey. She held up two fingers signaling she wanted a double. She didn’t nurse the first drink, merely leaned back and threw the contents of her glass down her throat. It stung momentarily, and when she winced, there was a second that her mind was empty. That was the peace she was looking for and had been evading her lately.
She was about to order another when a flash of red on the TV at the end of the bar caught her attention. “Hey, turn that up.”
The bartender slid a remote down the bar and nodded when Jordan held up two more fingers. When he set the drink in front of her, Jordan’s attention was already on the TV. A local reporter was interviewing Detective Foxx, who looked none too happy to be in front of the cameras.
“Do you have any suspects in this case?”
Rebecca gave the standard answer. “We’re investigating all possible leads.”
“Detective Foxx, this is the seventh victim. The citizens of Chicago would like to know if the Chicago Detective Division is getting any closer to making an arrest in the attempted murder of Julie Keppler and the other homicides?”