That I could believe. “Is that why nobody seemed to care about my issues?”
“Oh, we cared. We have just learned to not wince openly. It makes the newbies nervous. Now, the whole part about telling an incubus no? That’ll go around the precinct in a hurry along with wagers on what sort of man will win you.”
“I’m hardly a prize.”
Jacobson chuckled. “I’m going to do you a huge favor and not tell either chief you said that. Let’s just say I’m single, and there was a wager pool out on when I’ll get hitched and whipped. I won it.”
“You did? How?”
“I said it would be a cold day in hell first. The Devil brought in some snow for Christmas, so I won the wager. I have not been foolish enough to restart a wager pool. In reality, the right woman is never going to come along.”
It took me all of three seconds to take the hint. “You’re looking for the right man.”
“Indeed I am.” Jacobson shrugged. “So far, it has not been going well.”
I tilted my head in Alec’s direction. “What do you think of him?”
“I’d date him if he rolled that way, but he doesn’t.”
Interesting. “In good news, that doesn’t stop you from admiring the scenery, right?”
“You got it in one, McMarin. Buckle up, this is going to be a wild ride.”
No kidding.
Within four hours,I accepted the reality of the situation. It would take months to fully register the cases and discover the commonalities between them. Or, as the case was, the utter lack of commonalities.
Nothing matched, from murder method to cause of death to culprit. The only apparent common thread between them was the sole witness, one Alec Mortan. While location overlapped, I suspected it had more to do with Alec’s presence than anything else.
I blamed the Devil for having inserted the concept of a curse into my head.
The subject of my thoughts sat beside me, working on his laptop. I wondered what he did to fill the time, as he did his best to keep from interrupting me or Jacobson. I hoped he was able to do something fulfilling, something that let him escape from the reality of his situation.
In his shoes, I doubted I would handle the stress even half as well.
Then again, considering my promotion, I would find out how well I handled the stress soon enough.
I considered asking heaven for some help, but having met the Devil, I worriedHemight answer—and a brush with an archangel decided me. Divine intervention might seem like a good deal on the outside, but everything came at a price.
In my case, a fist to the gut and sore ribs.
Forcing my concentration back to my job, I ordered my growing spreadsheet by cause of death. “Until today, I didn’t know there were so many different ways someone could die from a knife wound. A severed carotid. A severed jugular. A knife to the heart. A stab to the thigh. A punctured kidney. A punctured lung. Multiple lacerations leading to death through bleeding out. A lobotomy via steak knife. If anything, this case is the start of a horrific guidebook.”
“101 Ways to Die?” Jacobson asked, holding up his notepad. “I’ve been making a list of causes of death, too, and while there are multiple counts during the same incident, I’m finding the same. If our lists fail to have any overlap, I’ll be impressed. How many causes of death do you have so far?”
“Twenty-nine. You?”
“Twenty-two.”
I handed Jacobson my laptop. “Input yours into the spreadsheet. It’s worth looking into, mainly because the only connecting link we have is our primary witness. A lot of these cases are cold, too.”
“Get used to that,” Jacobson warned. “Our precinct is where cold cases go to languish in the freezer until a lead is discovered. Bailey doesn’t care if the case is thirty years old. If we have the resources to look into it, we do. She’s seen the anguish of cold cases, and she can’t abide by it, so she tries to get closure for the victims whenever possible. Have you been given the speech yet?”
“About what?”
“How we are to handle cold cases.”
“Considering I was just made a detective before being handcuffed to our witness, no.”
