“It doesn’t matter,” she said shortly. “We have a job to do.”
Greta, the dispatcher, looked up from the PBX system, slid her earphones off and smiled broadly at Regina. “How are you feeling?”
Regina smiled back. “I’m good. Sore, but nothing about twelve hours of sleep won’t cure.”
Greta nodded. “Try some lemon tea. It’ll make that throat of yours feel better. You look awful, honey.”
Regina laughed, and it came out as a croak. “Thanks, Greta. I can always depend on you to be honest.”
Greta thumbed in the direction of a nearby office door. “Chief’s waiting on you. Go on in.”
Regina walked with as much confidence in her stride as she could muster and stuck her head inside the chief’s office.
He looked up and motioned her and Jeremy in. As she went forward, she saw Carl Perkins push off the wall where he’d been leaning. Regina frowned. What was he doing here? He wasn’t a day-shifter.
“Sit down, Regina. Get comfortable. No need for you to be standing,” Chief Witherspoon said as he gestured to the leather chair in front of his desk.
Trying not to show how grateful she was to be issued that particular order, she perched gingerly on the edge and then relaxed, leaning back into the soft chair.
The chief glanced up at Carl. “Carl is going to head up the investigation into the murder. Jeremy will be working with him and cooperating with the state police and the sheriff’s department.”
Regina sat forward. “Sir, I want this case.”
The chief shook his head. “You’re not even coming in for a while, Regina. I don’t want to see you for at least a week and even then you’ll be pushing paper.”
She blew out her breath in frustration. “He killed that woman. He tried to kill me. I want to nail him.”
“And we will,” the chief said patiently. “Right now I need you to tell us everything you can remember about what happened that night.”
“Who was she?” Regina asked softly.
“Misty Thompson.”
Regina’s brow furrowed in concentration.
“Did you know her?” Carl asked.
“Yeah. I mean, not well. I remember her from high school. She dated Hutch Bishop for a short time.”
“Well, we need to determine how she came to be in that farmhouse. She lived in town with her husband and three children.”
Regina winced and sighed. Her head ached a little more as she imagined three children who’d never see their mother again.
Carl leaned forward, putting his hands on the desk and staring at Regina. “What can you remember, Reggie?”
Her head jerked and she frowned hard. “Regina. Not Reggie.” Then her mouth remained open as a hazy memory filtered back.
I’ve been waiting for you, Reggie love.
“What is it?” Jeremy demanded.
“Reggie. He called me Reggie.”
“Sorry,” Carl offered in a confused voice. “Didn’t mean to offend you.”
She shook her head. “Not you. Him. The guy who killed Misty and attacked me.”
“Okay, back up,” the chief said. “Start from the beginning and tell us everything.”
