The ride back to central California had proceeded in quiet, and now the night’s watch witnessed Tori and her partner reconvene in the borrowed office breakroom. Tori leaned against the cool metal frame of her borrowed desk, arms crossed over her chest, as she watched Javi pace the length of the precinct's fluorescent-lit room. His footsteps echoed a rhythmic tap against the linoleum floor, each step punctuated with the frustration that had been simmering between them since Tally clammed up.
"Any word on Tally?" Tori asked, her voice cutting through the low murmur of detectives and ringing phones.
Javi stopped pacing and turned to face her, his dark eyes reflecting the strain of the case. "Nothing. The guy's a fortress. Lawyer is moving at a snail’s pace." He ran a hand through his hair, a telltale sign of his irritation.
"Still?" Tori's fingers drummed against her bicep. "So, we're at a dead end?"
"Seems like it." Javi threw up his hands in exasperation before letting them slap against his thighs. "He lawyered up fast. And not just any lawyer, either. We're talking high-powered defense that doesn't come cheap."
"Then we'll just have to find another way in," Tori said with determination, pushing off from the desk to stand upright. "There's always a crack somewhere, Javi. No matter how small."
"Agreed." Javi nodded. “Whoever asked him to pay the Whitmores off…”
"If anyone did. What if he paid them off.”
“And hired someone to kill those women? And what about Jane? She was hours away when we apprehended him.”
“Yeah…” Tori trailed off, biting her lower lip. “It’s flimsy. I know that.” She scowled. “So let’s say he’s telling the truth.”
“Not telling much.”
“I know. But let’s just say for argument.”
“Right,” he said slowly. “Then whoever asked him to help as a favor…”
“That’s the killer?”
“Can we access his phone?”
“Lawyer put a stop to it. Privacy rights. Going before a judge over the weekend.”
Tori scowled. “We don’t have time for that shit.”
Javi just shrugged helplessly. Clearly equally irritated. “So what about your end? Records from the Early Response HQ?”
She nodded, turning back to her laptop sitting on the desk. She paced back and forth in irritation, glaring at the screen. "Let's go over what we have again," Tori said, motioning towards the screen. "We'll turn this case inside out if we have to."
"Right behind you," Javi replied, drawing closer to peer over her shoulder at the display.
Tori's fingers flew across the keyboard, the click-clack of keys a staccato rhythm in the quiet precinct. On the screen before her, the digital gateway to Early Response's employee records awaited, its cursor blinking like a challenge.
"Here," she said, her voice low but firm, "If Tally won't talk, maybe we can find something that will."
Javi rolled his chair closer, their shoulders nearly touching as they huddled around the monitor. The list of employees cascaded down the screen, names and titles blurring into an indistinct river of potential leads.
"Start with the disaster sites," Tori instructed, her eyes never leaving the screen. "Anyone who had access or was assigned there around the dates of the murders."
"Got it," Javi responded, pulling up a separate database on another monitor. He keyed in search parameters, filtering through the list with practiced efficiency.
"Pause there," Tori said suddenly, tapping the screen where a name intersected with the date of the first murder. "Cross-reference this one. Any anomalies in their schedule?"
Javi obliged, cross-referencing the name against the company's activity logs. They worked in tandem, Tori driving the exploration of the employee records, her gaze sharp and discerning as she scanned for any thread that might unravel the mystery before them.
"Look at this," Javi murmured, pointing to a timestamp that didn't align with the rest. Tori leaned in, her stormy eyes narrowing as she spotted the discrepancy.
"Flag it," she said, her mind already racing ahead. Every name held a story, every anomaly a secret.
"Anything else?" Javi asked, his own intensity a match for hers.
"Keep going," Tori replied. "Every victim, every site. There has to be a link here somewhere."
Together, they continued to sift through the virtual paper trail, their focus unwavering. Each name was a potential key, each record a possible door to the truth that lurked just out of reach. But Tori knew they were getting closer, and she wouldn't stop until they found what they were looking for.
Tori's fingers danced across the keyboard, a rhythmic tapping that accompanied the hum of electronics in the precinct's cramped resource room. The dim glow from the monitor cast ghostly shadows on her face, but her expression was resolute, etched with the determination that had become her signature since Sammy's death.
"Naomi Fisher," she read aloud, the name slicing through the silence like a beacon in the fog. Her eyes, those blue-gray pools reflecting years of loss and resolve, lingered on the screen. "Disaster response team leader."
"Sounds important," Javi noted, rolling his chair closer to peer over her shoulder. His own eyes, dark and steady, scanned the details that began to populate their digital canvas.
"Important could also mean well-informed," Tori said, her voice low and contemplative. She reached for a notepad, scribbling down the name. "We need to understand her movements. If there's a connection between her and the victims, we'll find it."
"Let's dive into the activity logs then," Javi suggested, already navigating to the relevant database.
The pair entered a world of timestamps and locations, every entry a piece of an intricate puzzle they were desperate to solve.
"Here," she pointed to a sequence of entries on the screen. "Early Response sent relief teams to all three disaster sites." Her brow furrowed as she followed the trail of deployments. "And each one right after the murders."
"Coincidence?" Javi asked, though skepticism laced his tone.
"Three times over? I don't buy it," Tori replied. Her instincts, ever sharp, were tingling now. "Check who authorized these missions."
Working side by side, their search narrowed, converging on a single point of interest. Naomi Fisher's digital signature appeared repeatedly, authorizing each deployment. The pattern was too consistent to ignore, too deliberate to be dismissed.
"Naomi Fisher was the one sending out the teams," Javi confirmed, leaning back in his seat. "Every time, just after the incidents."
"Doesn't necessarily mean she's involved," Tori mused, her gaze fixed on the endless scroll of data. But even as she voiced her caution, the sea within her eyes churned with suspicion.
"Maybe not," Javi conceded. "But if she's not the key, she might at least point us to the lock."
Tori nodded, her white hair shimmering briefly under the fluorescent lights as she turned to meet Javi's gaze. "We need to talk to Naomi Fisher."
"Agreed," Javi said, standing up and stretching his arms. "But let's tread carefully. We're stepping into deeper waters here."
"Deeper waters," Tori echoed softly, almost to herself. A grim smile touched her lips. She was no stranger to the depths, after all. “We need to locate Ms. Fisher first.”
“How hard could it be?” Javi said sarcastically. “A disaster response specialist? Gonna be a walk in the park.”