“Don’t ever stop, Kobe.” I touched his face, brushed his cheek with my thumb. “I have fallen for you, too. Don’t doubt me. It’s scary. Loving you comes with a lot of other emotions I’m still trying to process.”
“I know.”
“My life ended two and a half years ago, and I didn’t think I would ever find happiness again. I wasn’t sure I wanted to.”
“Have you? With me?”
“Yes, but it’s terrifying.”
I closed my eyes and burrowed into Kobe’s warm embrace. As I fell asleep, I wondered what this new year would have in store for me.
For us.
35
Kobe
I left Dominique andCosette curled on the couch watching cartoons the following morning. Cosette didn’t want me to leave, but her much more reasonable father understood when I explained I needed to take advantage of a quiet holiday to go through notes for the case and poke around with theories while Rue and Golding weren’t around.
Megan hadn’t messaged, but I wasn’t surprised. She had anticipated a busy night and told me it might be a couple of days before she got back to me. I hadn’t asked for her number in return, nor did I get a last name, so I had no way of connecting with her unless I returned to the hospital.
I hoped she didn’t change her mind.
It was eight when I got to the office with take-out coffee in hand. The bullpen was busier than I expected, but I quickly learned it was partly due to the night shift spillover—extra report writing and booking people into holding cells took time. The drunk tanks would be overflowing with guests sobering up afterthe biggest drinking night of the year. I didn’t miss street patrol and the headaches that went with it.
By ten, the room had mostly cleared out, apart from a few random officers catching up on work. I spent hours digging deeper trenches into our victims’ lives, looking for crossovers that we might have missed, forming new theories only to sack them within minutes. I remained convinced that the crime revolved around sexual assault and that Navid’s involvement was either drug-related or due to his incompetence as a physician.
By eleven, I abandoned the effort to force solutions and focused on the teen girls and the mystery boy from three years ago, knowing with my whole chest this was the right direction. If I could only figure out who they were.
At quarter past eleven, the landline lit up with a call from the front desk. “Haven.”
“I thought I saw you come in.” Jim Belfries was a middle-aged officer I vaguely knew who picked up extra hours working reception on holidays and weekends. Rotator cuff surgery had taken him off patrol while he healed. “I’ve got a young lady here who wants to talk to you. You got a minute?”
“She asked for me?”
“No. She asked for Hayashi but said you would do. It’s about the university murders.”
“She have a name?”
“Jolie Aubert.”
I sat straighter, mentally flicking through the endless list of women we’d interviewed, but I didn’t recognize it.
“Send her back.”
A few minutes later, Jim appeared, escorting a pensive-looking teen into the bullpen. She didn’t appear old enough to be in university. A senior in high school at most.
Jim pointed, and the girl turned a wary gaze in my direction. She didn’t advance and seemed to take a minute, as though debating if she wanted to come forward or turn around and leave.
Bundled in a trendy pink thermal coat with a matching hat and mittens, it was difficult to get a proper read on her physique. Slight. Five four at most. Her ivory skin made her rosy lips stand out. Blond curls framed her face, where they stuck out the bottom of her hat. She had enormously wide eyes—sad eyes—framed by unnaturally dark lashes, although she didn’t appear to be wearing makeup. She looked like one of those Bratz dolls my sister used to collect, except less glitz and glamor and more girl-next-door innocent.
Jim said something.
The teen nodded.
Jim waited until she seemed to find the courage to approach. I gave the man a reassuring nod, letting him know I would take it from here, and Jim returned to his station.
Sensing the teen’s discomfort, I drew on my bashful, Big Brother persona, hoping to set her at ease. “Hey. I hear you wanted to chat.” I stood and offered my hand. “Kobe Haven.” I dropped the title. It was less daunting that way.
