Carson was going to find out why.
And he was going to make sure every one of those twelve women got the justice they deserved.
Even if it meant exposing corruption at the highest levels of the department.
Even if it meant discovering that the man who’d mentored a generation of detectives had been dirty all along.
The truth mattered more than protecting reputations.
Justice mattered more than preserving legacies.
And Carson Black was going to see that both were served.
No matter what it cost.
Chapter 19
Carson spread the twelve case files across the dining table, creating a makeshift investigation board with photos, timelines, and notes. It was Saturday morning, and he’d been at it for three hours already.
Nora emerged from the bedroom, phone in hand, and stopped when she saw the setup.
“You’re doing it again.”
“Doing what?”
“The obsessive detective thing.” She moved closer, studying the files. “Tell me you slept at least a little bit last night.”
“Some.”
“How much is some?”
“Three hours. Maybe four.” He rubbed his eyes. “I can’t stop thinking about this. Twelve women, Nora. Twelve thatwe know of. All reporting crimes. All having evidence disappear under Shaw’s watch. How many more are there that we haven’t found yet?”
Nora set down her phone and wrapped her arms around him from behind. “I know. And I know you need to solve this. But you also need to take care of yourself. You’re no good to those women if you burn out.”
“I’m fine.”
“You’re running on four hours of sleep and too much coffee.” She pressed a kiss to his shoulder. “Take a break. Have breakfast with me. Then we can look at this together. Fresh eyes might help.”
Carson wanted to argue. Wanted to say he didn’t need a break, that he was fine, that he could handle this.
But he’d promised Nora he’d stop shutting her out. Stop obsessing to the point of self-destruction.
“Okay,” he said. “Breakfast. Then you can help me find the pattern.”
“Good. Because I already have theories.”
“You do?”
“I’m an accountant, Carson. I find patterns in data for a living. This is just a different kind of data.”
***
Over scrambled eggs and toast that Nora made—because Carson absolutely would have burned it—shestudied the files.
“Okay, so twelve cases spanning Shaw’s tenure. All women. All with evidence mysteriously disappearing.” She made notes on a legal pad. “What were the time frames?”
“Spread out over about fifteen years. Shaw was captain for twenty years total, but these cases are all from his last fifteen.”
