DETECTIVE McPHEE

There’s something so forlorn about a cold and windblown November rain. McPhee shivered in her car, watching waves of water slap against the windshield. She checked her watch. Just after six and already totally dark. It would be good to spend the evening at home, if she ever got there, although nothing would keep her brain from puzzling over Azalea Court and Iris Blum. There was nothing else for her to do here tonight, except worry. She might as well head back to the station, write up her report, and talk to the night shift detectives. Make sure a patrol car drove around Azalea Court and the surrounding streets every couple of hours. Just in case.

She looked down at her notebook and checked the residents off her list: Eric Golden and his kids, Jess Simon, Evelyn Turner, and the new guy in Number Five. The neighbors didn’t seem to have any relevant information, but she had to go through the motions. And besides, you never knew what little tidbit might come out if you kept asking the right questions. Something that could make all the difference. Not something that was pure fantasy, like the Witness Protection Program rumor. She’d check it out, of course. But, really, how silly.

The canine team handler called and reported that the dog picked up Mrs. Blum’s scent along the river and at the burial ground bench but lost it again on the road near the dog park. Nothing after that. She texted the drone operator, but he didn’t see anything either. He promised to send McPhee the video file, so she could look for herself.

In the morning she’d return to Number Six. She didn’t think there was anything to it, but she had to follow-up on the report of a stranger wearing a hoodie seen at the burial grounds, in the vicinity of a woman who fit Mrs. Blum’s description. Elder Services had promised to come by first thing in the morning. And at some point, she’d have to bring Dr. Blum to the station for a formal interview, videotaped and following all the rules and regs. In the morning, she’d gather together the neighbors who wanted to help search. No reason they couldn’t begin that tomorrow, if the weather cooperated.

But this evening, she would try to relax. Her wife had the night off too. Maybe they would order take-out sushi and build a blaze in the fireplace. But even with a glass of wine, she knew she wouldn’t sleep well. She never did during a big case. Especially one like this, where all the personalities and histories and secrets swirled in her head. No, she would be awake most of the night worrying about what could have happened to Mrs. Iris Blum.