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Darby
Amanda O’Flannigan and I got back to headquarters a little after noon. I handed her, her dog, and her arsenal off to a couple of officers who would take her to a safe house. I then pulled the Flexion around to our slot and scanned the parking lot for Mark’s truck.
I didn’t see it and thought maybe I’d escape him for a while longer. I knew he’d called, I’d heard his message, and needed a little more time to compose myself before I saw him again.
Upstairs, I looked for a report but didn’t find one. Made sense, since my partner was still in the field.
I weighed my options. He’d been pretty blunt on the message he’d left that he wanted to discuss a possible lead with me, and wanted to deal with it together.
So where was he?
I thought about getting up, seeing if Will or my lieutenant or captain were around, but my heart wasn’t in it.
A superhuman was dead. Sure, one I’d thought capable of murder, but a super nonetheless. I had never brought back a super before. If we found his killer, would it be any different?
I picked up the superhero figurine on my desk and stared at it for a minute. A victim’s kid had given it to me barely six months into my duties on homicide. I used it to remind me of what I represented.
I set the figure down and straightened its cape. Life sure wasn’t like in the comic books. Most of my kind didn’t use their powers professionally. A few did, but it was frowned on to have a “secret identity.” It was laughable to me, honestly. Most of our powers were good for party tricks.
I was starting to think about whether I was ready to test my stomach when a paper sack appeared on my desk next to me, and next to it, Mark set down a tall to-go cup of something hot. It smelled of peppermint.
“You may want to eat fast,” he said without preamble. “There’s a lot to go over, and we need to move.”
I squinted at him. “What’s this?”
“Lunch. Figured you’d be ready to try something.”
He put a similarly sized sack on his own desk, took off his jacket, and sat down.
Still giving him the stink eye, I opened the bag and found a container of chicken soup, bread, and a small salad. The cup turned out to be mint tea.
“I’m still pissed off,” I said, even though I’d mostly come to terms on the way out of the city.
“Understood. Accept this food as a small bit of my apology. I made you hurl. I’m trying to make sure you actually keep something down.” He took out a huge sandwich and bit into it. “Because you need to keep your strength up after what happened.”
A glob of mayonnaise dripped onto the wrapper below him. He swiped a finger through it and sucked it off.
I watched him for a moment.
“Go ahead, eat.”
Carefully, I took the lid off and got a whiff of the soup. My stomach growled. I hadn’t realized I was so hungry.
I devoured it in no time, along with the other things he’d brought in. By the time I was finishing up the salad, I felt on a more even keel, less like I was going to snap his neck if he looked at me funny.
“So,” I said, taking a sip of the tea. I wasn’t a huge fan, but he’d been right: it quelled my stomach. “What did I miss?”
In less than ten minutes, we’d exchanged our new information.
“Where does Winifred Labbee live?” I asked Mark as I shifted my focus to my screen to look up the same information.
“Old coffee plant near downtown. You feeling ready to investigate?” He balled up his trash and dropped it in the bin next to our desks.
I sighed. “As ready as I’ll ever be.”
Our drive was uncomfortably quiet, me in the driver’s seat. With a lengthy distraction in having to go to the other scene, I had some distance from that morning’s incident. I’d thought, on the way back at least, that I’d be able to maintain a certain level of civility.
I wasn’t sure if that was possible now.
As I navigated the streets a few blocks from Winifred’s apartment, Mark said, “So, do you remember anything from last night?”
I winced. Did he have to bring it up? Really? “Does it matter?”
He nodded. “It would be nice to know who could have done it.”
I shrugged a shoulder. “That I don’t know.”
“Aren’t you the least bit curious?”
I didn’t answer him right away, hunting for a parking spot. Curious? Of course I was! But I also didn’t like to think that someone had drugged me so they could rape me. I’d been too close to it happening, if what Mark and Melinda said were true.
Mark cleared his throat. “Melinda’s test results came back. You had triple the amount of a typical dose. It should have been enough to kill you, or close to it.”
My hands tightened on the controls. “Are you sure?” My breath came out in a guttural whisper, which I had to clear before speaking again. “I mean, maybe her equipment was wrong.”
“It wasn’t wrong,” he said solemnly. “Someone was trying to knock you senseless.”
“Maybe I need some more tea.” I pressed my hand to my stomach and whispered, “I can’t believe that.”
“You need to, Darby. For a moment, set the fact aside of how angry you are at me. Someone was trying to rape you. You managed to thwart their attempt. Who in the super community would do such a thing?”
I found a spot to park three blocks away from the building, got out and met him on the sidewalk. “I don’t know. That would be a question for Genova.”
“I already asked her.”
“Oh, I’d have loved to be a fly on the wall for that conversation,” I said snidely. We began walking.
He frowned. “She doesn’t think anyone would do it. The only unknown quantity in that room, from her perspective at least, would be your date. Everyone else, she at least knows casually.”
I stopped and stared at his back before he halted and looked back at me. “And I’m supposed to accept that my date, the new department psychologist, is behind my being drugged because he’s the only person in that room who my former best friend doesn’t know? Do you have any idea how insanely jealous you sound right now?”
Mark stepped closer. “Do you have any idea how ignorant it looks for you to totally ignore the idea William could be behind it?”
“What would be his motive?”
Mark stared at me.
My cheeks heated up. “He’s known me for four days.”
“Guys use it on women they met four minutes ago, Darb. Maybe he’s just been sweet talking you this whole time so you won’t believe he’s capable of such a thing?”
I narrowed my gaze. “Where’s your proof? You don’t have any, do you?”
“From what I’ve pieced together only you or he got your drinks last night between the restaurant and the meeting. From what Genova observed, you ordered a double bourbon and stood at the bar while it was drawn up. You’d have seen if someone had dosed your drink. William later brought you wine, which he could have laced before giving it to you.”
I stared up at him. “You’ve been investigating what happened last night?”
“What happened was a crime, Darb. Of course I’m going to investigate it.”
I didn’t know what to say to that. I didn’t know if I’d like the answers he turned up and was pretty sure that even if I asked him to shut it down, he’d say no. There was a look in his eyes, the way he held himself that I just knew.
“Why are you doing this?” The words came out more plaintive than I’d intended.
“You know why.”
Slowly, I nodded. I didn’t, not really, but I’d accept it for now if it meant we could focus on the case.
I closed my eyes and took a deep breath. “Okay, can we follow this lead now?”
“Sure.” He cleared his throat. “Let’s go.”
Winifred Labbee lived on the third floor of the six-story building. We took the stairs as the lift looked like it hadn’t been updated in the last century.
We found Winifred’s apartment and knocked on the door.
And waited.
I knocked again.
“Think she’s home?”
I snorted. “I wish Veronica were here to scan for occupants.”
“That would be nice. Maybe they should attach a super with X-ray vision to all units.”
“Can’t, it violates the Super-Human Bill of Rights.”
“I know, Darb.”
We waited a bit more, then Mark pounded on the door. “Winifred Labbee! This is the KCBPD. Open up!”
I didn’t hear anything behind the door. No movement, no nothing. Hell, I’d be thrilled if I heard screaming. At least that way we could have a reason to enter. Either Winifred was being really quiet, was sound asleep and couldn’t hear us, or she wasn’t around.
I reached for the door release. It opened.
Mark and I both drew our weapons.
“I’ll go first,” Mark said.
I lifted my chin in acknowledgment.
Inside was a studio flat. Bed made to perfection on the left. Kitchen area with a tiny table nearby. Living area with a large screen to the right. Bathroom in the far corner.
“Not much to clear,” Mark commented.
I kicked the door shut behind us. “Yeah. Check the bathroom.”
I holstered my weapon as Mark cleared the bathroom. The apartment was neat. Neater than mine had been when I’d left for work two days ago. Nothing was out of place in the kitchen, and at the corner desk, it was clear of any personal information. It looked like a demo apartment.
Come to think of it, there weren’t any pictures on the walls or any of the flat surfaces.
Using my shirt, I went to the fridge and opened it.
“Mark, how many people leave their fridge off when they’re gone?”
He crossed the room. “Probably the same number of people who don’t keep more than one towel in a bathroom. And not a lick of toilet paper.”
I shut the fridge door and kicked the cabinet. “Damn it, she put the wrong information on her official records. What the hell was she hiding?”