Page 92 of Not My Type 2


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After sipping my coffee, I tuck my gun into my waist and head out of the office with my partner right behind me. I nod firmly at the police officers as they greet me on my way out.

I get in the car and watch as Rachel speaks to an elderly woman at the gate. I hiss under my breath and press the horn a few times. “This is exactly why I hate working with people,” I mumble. Rachel quickly slides into the passenger seat.

“I’m sorry about that, Detective,” she apologizes, and I nod before I speed off. No time to waste.

I didn’t plan on wasting any quality time here, and that’s exactly why I’m pushing to close this case before the Christmas holidays. And I’m damn sure I’ll solve it before Christmas Eve. Heh. Our killer might think he’s smart, but there’s no way he can outsmart me. I can already imagine the stupid look on his facewhen he realizes that he didn’t get away with it all. I’m sure he forgot about that girl in the hospital. I chuckle to myself.

Rachel looks over at me. “What’s funny?” she asks.

“I can’t wait to see the jerk behind all this… see how smart he thinks he is,” I say, eyes on the road.

“I just want him off the streets, cold-blooded killer,” Rachel says as I turn into the hospital parking lot.

“I’m gonna get him,” I say, parking the car.

We step out and head inside. I talk to the head doctor, then follow a nurse who directs us to the room. When we arrive, she smiles at us.

“This is her room… detectives,” she says. I thank her, and she leaves. I pull the door open. Lorie’s back is to me, probably still asleep since she didn’t respond. Rachel locks the door behind her, and I move to the other side.

“Good morning, Miss,” I say. She opens her eyes and stares at me, slowly sitting up. I flash my badge. She looks broken.

“I’m Detective Mario,” I say, glancing at Rachel. “And this is my partner, Officer Rachel and you are?”

She nods. “I’m Yanique Gray… call mi Lorie” I knew she went by Lorie but was about to confirm.

She’s cooperating already, and I like it. “How are your wounds?” I ask, easing into the reason I’m here.

She sighs. “They still hurt real bad, and the doctor nuh update me yet, so I’m not sure,” she says.

“I’m sorry you have to go through this. But don’t worry with the questions I’m going to ask, your shooter will end up behind bars,” I say confidently.

“I talked to another witness,” I continue, “and she couldn’t describe him. But she said you were talking with him. Is he someone you know?”

Silence.

“Miss Gray,” Rachel says softly.

Lorie looks at her, then back at me, tears welling in her eyes as she shakes her head. “I’m sorry. I wish I knew who he was.”

What? I was told he was talking to her. How does she not know him? He didn’t even speak to the other woman, yet he broke into her house just to torture her, that’s what it looks like to me. And she doesn’t know who he is? She’s hiding something.

“You weren’t having a conversation with him?” I press.

She nods.

“What was it about?”

“Uh… he was saying he was gonna, um, kill me,” she says, fidgeting with her fingers.

I don’t need any more signs, she’s lying. Why is she hiding something about him? I stare out the window, thinking. That’s how I work best. Hm. My gut tells me she knows exactly who he is but is too scared to say. Why lie? What’s she protecting?Could be her life.

Why do I get the feeling he knew I was coming? It seems impossible, but it’s the only explanation. How did he know I was coming? He was probably… tipped off.

I look back at her. “Who was your last visitor? When did they come?” I ask, warning her, “And don’t lie.”

“Mi mother come yesterday,” she says.

“Nobody else?” She shakes her head. Obviously, she wouldn’t say yes.