RELIEF.

Abby rubbed her neck and yawned. Her bruised shoulder screamed, but now she could finally let herself wind down. Page flashed a smile and a thumbs-up as he led Lil’ Sporty away to be booked. Jacoby and Roper were equally congratulatory.

While the brief admission was not a full confession, it was a start. Grandma’s address was listed on his last arrest report. They had probable cause to search the place and enough to hold Davis for a preliminary hearing while they worked to build a strong case. Abby felt confident that the serial killer was in custody and the killing would stop, and she knew she could do the work so that the rest would fall into place.

Roper left with Bandit to let Abby finish up some arrest paperwork, and she was glad to ride up in the elevator alone. Rollins should be overjoyed that there was already a suspect in custody.

Will I ever feel like that where my parents are concerned?

Stretching, she approached her office, needing coffee and a second wind to prepare the declaration for the search warrant. The only fly in the ointment was overtime. DC Cox was known for being stingy under normal circumstances. There was no exigency on a search with a suspect in custody, and Abby doubted hers would be approved in any event. Cox would send her new partner, she bet.

She stepped into the homicide office and stopped. Not only was most everyone back from lunch, but Deputy Chief Cox stood next to her desk conversing with Roper. Bandit was back in his place on her visitor’s chair.

Lieutenant Jacoby was homicide’s direct supervisor, but Cox commanded the entire detective division. She wore a sharp tailored black suit with a thigh-length skirt, a dark-red blouse under the jacket. She looked good and seemed calm and composed, so Abby guessed she’d gotten a handle on the press situation.

“Hart, I hear you have a solid suspect.”

“Yes.”

“I think you’ve done enough for today. Roper can take it from here and call you if he encounters any problems.”

Roper cleared his throat. “Uh, Chief, this is Detective Hart’s baby. I think she deserves to be in on all of it.”

Abby looked away, wishing she could have stopped Roper from pushing that button.

Cox straightened and looked down her nose at Roper, speaking as if she were talking to a four-year-old. “Are you responsible for addressing the city council when overtime runs over budget? I don’t think so. Detective Hart has completed her shift with an arrest. You are more than capable of taking it from here and assisting CCAT with a search warrant.”

She tapped a toe of her high heel shoe on the floor before turning to leave, but not before pausing to look directly at Abby. “The only dogs allowed in the station are working dogs.”

Abby arched one eyebrow but said nothing as the chief continued her exit.

“Pick your battles,” Woody would say.

Roper waited until the chief had disappeared. “Wow, I knew she was tough, but that’s the first I’ve seen her like that.”

Abby turned to Bandit, who stood in the chair, tail wagging furiously. Seeing the little dog made her smile and forget Cox.

“Don’t worry about it,” she said as she picked Bandit up. Irritation fled as she held the furry body and let him lick her hand. “I need to review all three crime reports carefully anyway, and I can do that at home. You surely served a lot of warrants in narcotics, so you’ll know what to look for when you get in the grandmother’s house.”

“Thanks for having faith in me. You don’t even know me and you trust me with this huge case.”

“I trust you to do your job. We have time to build a court case. If you mess something up, then we will have issues. Right now your slate is clean.” She closed her desk drawer for emphasis and gave Roper her best Asa look, a look he’d given her often when she was green. “See that it stays that way.”

He smiled and for the first time she saw a competent, confident cop, not a nervous new guy. “You got it.”

“Have you looked over the first granny murder?”

“Yep, it was the first on my list.”

“Touch base with Page about the search warrant. He’ll know about how long it will take to get it signed off. While he’s doing that, put together a six-pack of photos and show it to our witness, Luke Murphy. I know he said he didn’t see the suspect’s face clearly, but give it a shot anyway.”

Roper grinned. “I’ll get right on it.”

“Also put the Jenkins file next on your list.” She pulled her yellow pad from under a stack of reports and tore off the top sheet. “This was my to-do list on Jenkins for today, but the callout canceled it for me. He was beaten to death at an unknown location and then left in his car in his driveway for his wife to find. But I can’t find anything —no enemies, no arguments, nothing that would cause someone to want him dead. If you can make any of these calls today, great. I’ve hit dead ends for two weeks.”

He took the paper from her. “Will do.”

Grabbing her bag, she looked at her new partner. “I’m gone. If Murphy can help with the six-pack or if you find anything at Grandma’s, call me; I don’t care what time. Other than that, see that everything is cleaned up by tomorrow or we’ll be starting off on a really bad foot.”

Abby hated to admit she felt relieved about going home. The lack of sleep, the brush with the train, and this case that might bring her face-to-face with Lowell Rollins all conspired to throw her off-balance. She felt a little punch-drunk when she got back in her car. She’d decided to make a stop to pick up some dog food for Bandit when the missing flyer and the picture of the smiling young girl caught her attention again. She picked it up and studied it for a minute.

“Why are you running, Nadine?”

Sighing, Abby knew she had to make an additional stop before going home. It wasn’t about Murphy; it was about a young girl, possibly in danger. There was a westside hangout called Destination X that had a reputation for attracting runaways and lost souls. It had been on the PD’s radar for selling alcohol to minors in the past. That would be the place to ask pertinent questions.

A few minutes later she pulled into the parking lot. Luke Murphy, if he were good, would have been here already, but Abby still got out of the car and headed inside. She knew as she stepped through the door, smelling sweat and stale beer, that if someone had asked her why she was there, she would not have had an answer. She showed the flyer to the manager and received a surly grunt and shake of the head.

“Look —” Abby smacked the counter so the guy would look at her —“this kid is underage. Your license goes if I find out you’re harboring an underage runaway. You’ve lost it before for a similar reason.”

“I don’t harbor anyone.” His piggy little eyes narrowed. “I kick her out two days ago. She tried to sleep here. I kick her out.”

Jaw tight, Abby pulled one of her business cards from her pocket and wrote on it, Call me. I want to help. She pushed it toward him.

He grunted and glared, clearly not wanting anything to do with her card.

“If she comes in again, just give her this.”

Still facing reticence, Abby pulled a twenty out of her pocket. “Here.” She handed the card and the twenty to the piggy-eyed man. “If you see her again, give her this card. If she calls me, there’s another twenty in it for you.”

The money and the card disappeared into his pocket as he pursed his lips.

Abby yawned on the way back to the car, thinking not only had she lost sleep over the runaway, she was out twenty bucks as well.