“If Stanton was involved in any way with these crimes, depending on what the information was, he might choose to withhold or alter the information before sharing it to make sure he isn’t caught,” I explained to O’Connor. “If he’s just an overly excited crime nut, he would share all the information as we give it to him.”
“So what do you need from us?” O’Connor asked.
“A couple things,” she hedged. “First, I want you to send in another dive crew to Lake Echo within 48 hours. And we’re going to invite him to come out.”
“Hell no,” O’Connor interrupted. “We have no reason to bring another dive team in, and that’s money and resources we don’t have just to appease some weirdo podcaster.”
“Second,” she continued, ignoring O’Connor’s rejectionof the first request. “I want you to be there, Hector. You had enough years of working undercover with the LVPD to give you insight into people like this. I want you to watch him while he witnesses the fake search dive. See if you can get a read on him one way or another.”
“I appreciate your vote of confidence, but my undercover specialty was the mafia, not potential serial killers.”
Her hands waved in front of her as if she were dismissing my comment as trivial. “It’s still more insight training than I have. My specialty is dead bodies, not live ones.”
She turned to O’Connor and positioned her hands in front of her as if she were about to deal with a petulant child. “And the ISB will cover the cost to bring in a dive team. You just need to provide the park staff.”
“Fine. What exactly do you want them to pretend to do?” O’Connor asked.
“They need to pretend to find something—it doesn’t matter what,” she explained. “Your men will come and talk to Hector and tell him they foundit. Hector, without telling him whatitis, will inform Mr. Stanton that it’s the break you were looking for in the case, because this piece of evidence could be the smoking gun for who the killer is.”
“What if he doesn’t believe it?” O’Connor asked.
“He will,” I said, and Andrews smiled at me, letting me know she was thinking the same thing I was. “If he’s not involved directly in the crime but just doing this to build up his audience or podcast numbers, he’ll be soexcited to get a scoop for his listeners that there's no way you'll be able to get rid of him. If he’s involved, he’ll be too paranoid about what it would mean for him, so his desire to get out of there fast should become more important than sticking around to find out what the piece of evidence is.”
O’Connor nodded in response. “Alright. You’ll have a dive crew for tomorrow.”
He left quickly, leaving only Andrews and me in the office.
“By the way…I passed Diden and Jennings on the way in, and they told me to be cautious entering your office because you were acting weird,” she said to me with a smirk.
“I’ve been tucked away in my office most of the day,” I said. “I can hardly be a dick if I’m not out there.”
“That’s just it,” she said, getting up from the chair. “Diden said she saw you smiling when you walked in today, and Jennings reported you smiling when he walked by your office.”
I groaned. “So first they bitch because I’m grumpy, unapproachable, and don’t smile enough. Now they don’t like it when I smile?”
“I think they just weren’t sure what to make of it,” she said, heading toward the door. “Whoever she is…maybe see her again so you can keep that smile. It’s a good look for you. I’ll be in touch.”
With that, she walked out, leaving me to think about what she’d said.
Iris.
That’s who’d put the smile on my face. Thinking of her naked. Thinking of her with my dog. Thinking of her in my house.
Jesus, I needed to get my shit together. I was acting like some down-bad Romeo. It wasn’t real love—yet. That took time. No, this was just infatuation, a desire to be around her…and only her.
19
“On a map, Red Flag Warnings are actually pink. Because nothing says ‘run for your life’ like Barbie’s favorite color.”
—It’s science
Iris
“I’m guessing you either won the lottery or you got some last night,” Ben said, smirking at me when I walked into the office this morning.
“Wait…Who got some? What’s happening?” Christine popped up from her desk to see what—and more importantly, who—Ben was talking about.
Ben didn’t say a word. He just nodded in my direction, smiled, and went back to work.
