Connor stepped closer.“Please let me do this.”
That word did more damage than his temper could have.
Please.
The younger Connor had not used it often.He had joked, argued, bluffed, and charged ahead.This man stood in front of her with grief in his face and a badge on his chest and asked once, quietly, to be trusted.
“All right,” she said.
Relief crossed his face so fast she almost missed it.
“But if I hear you raised your voice past what’s useful, I’ll pull you back from him and I won’t apologize for it.”
“Fine by me.”
“And call me when you’re done.Not Arnold.Not Cheryl.Me.”
Connor nodded.“I will.”
He turned for the door.
At the threshold, Selena nearly called him back.Be careful sounded too intimate.Don’t be stupid sounded too much like marriage.So she said nothing.
Connor left.
The door closed behind him with a soft click that seemed far louder than it was.
Arnold waited three seconds before speaking.“He’ll be fine.”
Selena looked at him.
“You don’t sound convinced.”
Arnold rubbed the back of his neck.“I’m convinced he wants to be fine.”
“That’s not the same thing.”
“No.This has hit him hard… I’ve never seen him take something so bad.”
Selena turned back to the evidence board.Carl Higgins had earned a place on it now, but no photograph yet.Just a name in her notebook and a threat spoken on a porch.Motive, perhaps.Opportunity unknown.Access unknown.
The photograph of Victor drew her eyes again.
Shot in his own chair.Television loud enough to bring a neighbor over.Door unlocked.Killer close enough to fire from above.
Beside him, Warren Holt sat in death at the lodge, the blank page beneath his hand.
Two victims with business disputes.Two men Connor was close to.Two crime scenes linked by blank pages of paper.
Selena's phone buzzed across the desk.
MEG CALLOWAY
She answered on the second ring.
"Hey boss.Please tell me you've got something useful."
"I might," Meg said.Papers rustled at her end."Your request for Warren Holt's financial records got expedited."
