Uncovering Officer Smith (The Discovering Trilogy #2) (8 page)

“I wish. It’s not even like that. I just couldn’t sleep.”

“Sure,” Matt teases. “So, what did the lab want?”

“I was just checking on that sample I’d sent.”

“The girl from the bar last weekend?”

“Yeah.”

“She’s really got you in a funk, huh?”

“What?” My arm falls flat against the desk.

He looks at me over his glasses. “Smith, that was the first Friday in like two years you haven’t taken a girl home for sex.” He pauses. “Since then, you’ve become like obsessed with her date-rape case.”

“
Attempted
rape,” I correct. “And it almost happened right under my nose – wouldn’t that bother you?”

“Nothing happened. You have a hard-on for this girl.”

“I do not. She’s not my type.”

“What type is that? Smart? Morally sound?… Or is it because she’s
blonde
?”

“All of the above.” I stifle a laugh.

“Face it, Smithy, this girl’s got you by the balls.” His hand reaches out and cups the air for emphasis.

“You’re delusional. This is just business.”

“Smith.” Chief Carson’s voice resounds across the precinct. She stands at the edge of the hallway with both hands on her hips, a stance I’ve grown to learn she means business. “My office, now.”

“Good luck,” Matt whispers, keeping his eyes down. If there was one thing we’ve learned with our new chief, it was to always look busy. She’ll find something for you to do, even if it means scrubbing toilets. I close the folder on my desk and shove it into a drawer before following her. She’s seated behind that ridiculously huge desk of hers—Took four grown men to get it inside.

“Chief, what’s up?”

“Have a seat.” She indicates a chair in front of her desk.

Oh great, this is going to be a long one
. I walk inside, making myself at home in her leather chairs. She took no time redecorating after the old chief of Angelica passed away from a heart attack – too many donuts. The office now looks like a rich person’s study, not the commanding officer of a small town police force. But, what do I know?

“So.” She shuffles some papers on her desk. “Have you confirmed GHB was used at The Bar?”

“Not yet. Still waiting on the lab; I touched base earlier.”

She nods. “I want to keep an eye on this. A college town does not need this kind of reputation. We need to nip the situation in the bud now. I want these culprits prosecuted. They need to be made an example of so it doesn’t reoccur.”

“Don’t worry, I’m on it. Still going through security footage; I’ll have an ID soon.”

“Good.” She nods, loving to feel like she’s in charge. “Now, anything on the mysterious disappearances?”

“No new leads.”

“Well, I need answers. Dig up some dirt; go back to the first disappearance, retrace your steps. I need to tell these families something. It’s been almost two years and we haven’t turned up anything. We look like morons. A good precinct would have some clues by now. People don’t just disappear without a trace.”

“I agree, but that’s how it appears.”

“Was it a cult? Religious sacrifice? Murder? Where are these people, Smith? Ask a set of fresh eyes to review the case files. I’m giving you permission to start a task force. I want some news or leads soon.”

I nod. “Yes, Chief.”

She looks around before responding. “You know, Smith, you’re the only one with any brains here.” I glance up. “I think you would make a great detective. Show me you can handle this, produce something I can bring to the commanders, and the promotion is yours.”

My eyes must be bulging out of their sockets right now because I have to remind myself to blink. I blink three more times before opening my mouth to respond. “Yes, Thank you, Chief.”

“Good, now go. Send Todd in here. “

I wince at Matt’s last name. They call him by it so often people actually think that’s his first name. Much like me, I guess. His head is still down when I reappear. He’s furiously writing something down.

“You’re up, partner.” I palm his desk.

“Oh, joy,” he deadpans. “If I’m not out in five minutes come interrupt about a call we have to take.

“You got it.”

Instead of watching the clock, I fold my arms and rest my head.

Matt straps his seat belt back on in silence. He’s still rather pissed at me for not pulling him out of that meeting—Reamed me a new one when he found me face down on my desk again. He hasn’t really said much to me since. Chief Carson came out from the commotion and sent us both out on a call: numerous calls, actually. On one, a man was running around covered in blood, scaring folks.

I don’t even have the cruiser in park before we spot the man everyone was calling about. He’s running down the street, covered head to toe in dried, maroon-colored blood.

“Holy shit.” Matt mumbles.

We double park and leap out of the car, sprinting after him. He has a head start on us.

“Police! Stop!” Matt attempts to call to him.

The man stops short. His back straightens. Slowly, he turns to face us.

I hear Matt gasp when he does. The man’s eyes are wide, crazy. There is blood everywhere. It’s dried into his hair, smeared across his face, down his white shirt, and he’s leaving remnants with every step he takes.

The stranger blinks. “Where am I?”

“Nice try,” Matt replies, slinking behind him and slapping a pair of cuffs around his wrists.

“What is going on?” The man tries again. His eyes lock with mine and they look genuinely confused. He then glances down at himself. “Whose blood is this? What happened?” He starts shaking.

“We were hoping you could tell us.” I finally find my voice. “Where did you come from?”

“I don’t remember.”

“Do you live around here?” I maintain eye contact with him. He glances around.

“Around the corner. 235 Maple.”

“Put him in the car. Let’s go check this out.”

Matt tosses him in the car. We draw our guns and follow his bloody footsteps back to 235 Maple Ave.

The door is wide open as we enter a definite crime scene. The house is a mess. Furniture is broken and scattered. Papers are thrown about the room. A window is broken, blowing warm air into the house, curtains slumping on the floor.

“There was definitely a struggle.” Matt states the obvious aloud.

“There’s so much blood. But no body.”

“Unless he disposed of it already.”

“Does that guy look like he knows what he’s doing? He’s running around covered in blood.”

“Psych defense?” Matt offers.

“It just seems… off.”

I follow the bloody footsteps to a wall. I knock my fist in a few spots, but it’s solid. Gliding my hand across the wood, I find no edges, no openings.

I glance down at the footsteps. They appear to be coming out from this wall. “Call the Chief. We need detectives down here.”

The walk back to the car is silent. Both of us have a lot on our minds. Mostly, because we have no idea what we just witnessed. Climbing into the cruiser, we ignore the questions from the bloody stranger in the back seat, heading back to the precinct.

First disappearances, now strange blood-soaked men: what is going to happen next? Something strange is going on in this small town of Angelica, NY. I’m determined to figure out what it is.

By the time I arrive to my brother’s ‘little get together’, the only parking space available is two streets down. Meggie found other plans, so I’m forced to arrive alone and face bodily harm from my older brother. The front door of his lake house is wide open as I make my way between people, recognizing a few faces from Bedford’s high school football team and others from his fraternity.

I continue weaving my way inside when my eyes find Courtney. Her exotic eyes catch mine halfway across the house before she comes bounding up to me.

“Becca! I’m so happy to see you.” Her dark hair encompasses me as I’m pulled into a big hug—Obviously, alcoholically enhanced. “It’s been so long.”

“Hey, Court, have you seen my brother?” If anyone knows where he is, it would be her. They have been best friends since sixth grade. She’s been over to my house more times than I can remember. She taught me how to use a tampon and walk in high heels. She’s the person I turned to for things I couldn’t ask my uptight mother. I swear she and Bedford are perfect for each other, but they are the kind of best friends who would never cross that line. I think part of their friendship magic is because she’s the only girl who didn’t fall for his charm. That’s just what he needs: someone to put him in his place. But still, deep down I have hope for it.

“I think I saw him out on the deck.” She points to the back of the house. “Have you seen his hot Wall Street friends?” She winks at me. “You should go check them out.”

She slips past me, waving to someone behind me, and I take my leave. Heading through the wide living room towards the deck, I happen to notice all the renovations he’s made to the house. A new entertainment center is propped up on the wall, bigger than my entire bed. Black leather couches line the walls in an L shape with a glass table in the center, which I personally wouldn’t have around this kind of crowd. But if anyone can afford a new one, it would be my brother. Ever since his financial internship from college turned into this huge job offer and promotion upon promotion, I doubt he even has to worry about money. Like father, like son. Meanwhile, I have to worry about something as simple as a cell phone payment.

Through the screen door, I can see him. My brother is wearing the most obnoxious red, white, and blue shirt imaginable. He has sunglasses and a belt to match the hideous shirt. He’s topped the look with a rolled up, red bandana around his forehead. Bro’s taking his yearbook vote as ‘Most School Spirit’ just a little too seriously. I’m silently regretting coming, having a million other things I should be doing right now, and fun is not one of them. I can have fun like this when I find as much success as Bedford has. A drunken girl pushes me. She practically tosses me into the side of the couch before bursting through the sliding door screaming something about needing someone to lift her up for a keg stand. Once her commotion is over, Bedford’s eyes meet mine and I know there’s no way I’m going to be able to get out of here.

“Becky! You made it! Come here.” He motions me to come out onto the deck. “There’s someone I want you to meet.”

“Yeah, you know Beddy, I really should get back... I have some work…”

He puts his arm around me, guiding me over to a table set on the deck with a perfect unobstructed view of the lake. “Becky, you remember Rod and Hunter.” He drunkenly points out all his friends from high school that I’ve met tons of times, mainly when I was cleaning up their puke from the bathroom floor.

“Then this here is Kevin and Mike.” Kevin and Mike are new to me. They must be the Wall Street boys Courtney was talking about. I can see what she meant; totally gorgeous in that I’m hot-and-I-know-it kind of way.

“Where is… Here he is! Smith, meet my little sister, Becca.” He spins me just in time to meet the eyes of Officer John Smith.

Well, I’ll be damned
. My brother talks about his friends a lot, but when he mentions his crazy partner in crime named ‘Smith’, I never thought it would be the hot bouncer from the bar.

He looks good. He has this red tee shirt on that makes his arms bulge and tan really pop. He’s trying to juggle five beers in his hands when his mouth drops open at the sight of me. I almost do the same. The sight of him off duty—he’s different. At the bar, he’s always stern, calculated. When I caught sight of him in uniform, he has that same professional vibe to him. I think seeing him in casual clothes with beer in his hands, makes me a little curious.  

“John Smith.” I nod. “So we meet again?” My tone is mocking when he finally smiles.

“Becca.”

I feel my brother’s eyes on me. “You two know each other?” Bedford’s a little uncomfortable, apparently knowing John’s reputation.

I pat my brother on the back. “That’s the thing about small towns, Beddy.” I lean over and steal a beer sliding from John’s hands before mockingly saluting him and spinning on my heels, heading down the deck stairs to the backyard.  

I tried to avoid interaction the entire night. I made the mistake of texting Meg that John was here, and I’d wished she had come. Just one text brought on an onslaught of them, which I’m still trying to respond to. She asks me more questions than my law school application and above all, she’s trying to convince me to talk to him. I know I want to. I know I should… but it’s going to take a little liquid courage. So, that’s what I’m doing as I sit here in the green and white-checkered lawn chair, staring out at the lake. Games of beer pong are being tossed around behind me, and I’m noticing others taking a long stroll through the foliage beside the lake. I’m watching the couple out on the edge of the dock kissing, when my mind wanders enough to realize the things missing from my life. I have a plan and know what I want. I promised myself I wouldn’t let anyone get in the way of that, but would it kill me to have a good time occasionally? Am I going to become a boring old stiff no one wants to be around? What I would give to have a man look at me—with desire. I’m at a point where even my vibrator has given up on me. Even all my desire and needs went into hibernation mode. Will I ever get it back? Will they make a movie about how I got my groove back? Meggie jokes that I won’t even remember how to do it… maybe she’s right. Maybe I'm a lost cause. I was so hurt, so closed off after my high school boyfriend, that I focused on my schoolwork and it turned out to be a good thing. My grades soared and so did my goals and confidence. Now, schoolwork has become my crutch. I swig another bottle of beer before stumbling out of the chair and calling dibs on the next game of beer pong.