by Jet MacLeod
“Do you think they’d let me?”
“Why not?” Grace asked.
“Because we are both women,” Sam answered.
“If you pass your detective’s exam, it won’t matter. Plus, I’m sure that your mom has enough pull and the ‘cohunes’ to pull it off with the chief of detectives. That is if you think you can deal with me as a partner, Rookie.”
“I’ll learn,” Sam stated.
“Sounds good,” Grace told her.
“You talked to Tabby?”
“Yeah.”
“And?”
“She told me what she needed.”
“Okay?” Sam inquired.
“I talked to Reagan.”
“How’d she take it?”
“She said yes before I could tell her everything.”
“Really?” Sam asked.
“Yeah,” Grace said, simply.
“How are you taking it?”
“Not as well.”
“I can see that,” Sam replied.
“Sorry.”
“Don’t apologize. I agree with you. I’d be doing the same thing.”
“I just hate to see her in pain, you know?”
“We all do, Grace. We all do. Why do think I shut down with Tabitha so quickly. That is why I brought it to you. I know how to deal with CI’s and other civilian help. It was you…I wasn’t sure about,” Sam admitted.
“What that mean?” Grace asked.
“I didn’t know how you’d react if I had just gone straight to Reagan.”
“Meaning?”
“I like being alive and well.”
“Funny.”
“Seriously, true story,” Sam replied.
They both laughed. They both needed it. Grace, more than Sam, needed the release. Sam knew that Grace was just gonna let it build until she blew up. Now, that Sam felt actually like Grace’s partner, Sam couldn’t let that happen. They were gonna need each other. They both knew it. It had become a silent agreement between them both.
“I need you to call Tabby and set up an appointment, today.”
“When?” Sam asked.
“Sometime this afternoon, if possible, and at her place, I don’t want to bring Reagan into the station, again,” Grace answered.
“Okay, you going, too?”
“Yeah, I promised Reagan I would.”
“She ask you?”
“No, she told me to come if it would keep me calm.”
“Ah, so peace-of-mind, then?”
“Yeah,” Grace answered.
“This has got to be hell for you,” Sam stated.
“You have no idea.”
They arrived back at Jessica Reilly’s place. Sam noted, mentally, how ordinary the house looked considering. She knew what horrors that had happened outside in the back yard and inside Jessica’s own bedroom. The house didn’t reflect any of it.
“Do they always look like this?”
“Like what?” Grace asked in response.
“Normal,” Sam replied.
“Most of the time, yeah, they do.”
“Great.”
“Kinda makes your apartment look—“
“Like home. Yeah, well, it’s where I lay my head. It keeps me warm and dry. But, this is supposed to be the American Dream. How had this…how does this become the American Dream?”
“The crime isn’t. The life and house are, though. It is one of the reasons I became a cop. I wanted to help people keep this. I wanted to help preserve the dream even though I know the horrors behind the veil.”
“Whoa,” Sam replied.
“Whoa, what?”
“It just got really deep.”
Grace punched Sam in the arm, then she smiled.
“Oww!” Sam exclaimed.
“Don’t even. That did not hurt. Come on. Let’s go look at your spot.”
Grace got out of the cruiser before Sam could reply. Sam was out of the cruiser and behind Grace in a split second. Cormack was already at the front door, waiting on them.
“Ready?” Cormack asked them, as she handed them booties.
“Yeah, you bring the log back out?”
“Of course, O’Shea, both of you sign in and follow the diagramed path to the bedroom and we can proceed,” Cormack told them.
“Sometimes I hate procedure,” Grace mumbled.
“I do, too, but it wins cases,” Cormack replied.
“Your find, you’re first,” Grace stated pushing Sam.
Sam led the way to Jessica’s bedroom. She followed the path that had been laid out during the initial investigation. None of them varied from it because they didn’t want any transference or contamination.
As they entered the room, the rough metallic blood smell hit them all. Cormack looked for a place to set her kit and opted for the clean patch of carpet in the hallway. Sam and Grace knelt down near the bed, careful not to set their knees on the floor. Once they were all set, Grace reached out and was handed the camera by Cormack. Grace handed Sam the camera and reached back to Cormack for the rulers. Grace handed those to Sam as well.
Sam laid the rulers around the blood spot. Once she was satisfied with the layout, she began to take some shots for the file. She handed the camera back to Grace. Grace gave it back to Cormack.
“Should we cut it out?” Sam asked.
“Yeah,” Grace stated.
“Be sure to make it as big as you can to include the entire spot,” Cormack told her.
“Pad too?” Sam questioned, pulling out her own knife.
“Yup,” they answered.
“Okay,” Sam stated, cutting the patch of carpet very carefully, “Now, what? Do we have something to put this in for evidence?”
“Hold on,” Cormack answered.
Sam pulled up the piece of carpet. She was careful to keep the pad unattached from the cut carpet. She handed the carpet piece to Grace and began to cut and pull the pad up away from the subflooring of the house. Cormack had come back with some large paper bags. Sam and Grace watched as she cut them apart so she could make a bigger bag for both the carpet and the pad.
“Carefully, hand me the carpet,” Cormack told them.
Grace passed her the cut piece of carpet. Cormack carefully laid it in the cut up bags. She carefully made a bag around the piece, making sure that the bag didn’t touch any part of the carpet. Grace then passed the cut piece of pad to Cormack, who bagged it, too.
Grace looked at the subfloor. Sam already had her hand out. Cormack and Grace handed Sam the camera and rulers again. Once Sam started positioning the rulers for more pictures, Cormack took the two bags out to the CSU truck and catalogued them into evidence.
“That is an obvious shoe print,” Grace stated.
“Yup, size thirteen or fourteen, I’d say,” Sam replied.
“Well, the male vic’s shoe size was a twelve, so it’s not his,” Grace said.
“This it’s the killers?” Sam questioned.
“Probably. We need to get a template made so we can compare it. We need to get a definite shoe size on it. I would like to know brand, too.”
“Yeah, that could help us narrow down the perp. Not many places around carry that size shoe. It’s probably a special order or buy. Do you see any distinct wear to it?” Sam asked.
“Not yet, but I’m sure that we will once we process everything,” Grace stated.
“Well, let’s go, then.”
“Hold up, Rookie. We need to talk with Tabby today, for Reagan’s sake. I want to get it over with. I know Reagan does. Cormack can start processing the evidence. Besides we are still waiting on the ME’s reports on the dead couple. There are things that need to be done,” Grace told her.
“I know that. I understand that. I just want to catch this guy.”
“You aren’t the only one,” Cormack added, rejoining them.
“And, processing evidence takes time. Meanwhile, we canvas and do interviews. Once all the evidence had told us everything it can, we either re-intervie
w or interview new suspects. We can’t rush it,” Grace stated.
“Rushed evidence is sloppy evidence. Sloppy evidence doesn’t convict. No conviction means the asshole walks to strike again. Then, we have to have crazy amounts of evidence and a confession or it looks like we are targeting the suspect for any new crimes,” Cormack added.
“I understand that. I just want to stop him. I want Reagan to find some peace,” Sam replied.
“So do I. Let’s go,” Grace stated. “Cormack, we’ll see you later.”
“I’ll be at the lab,” Cormack said, as they left the house.
Chapter Eight
Sam had driven from the station to Tabitha’s apartment studio. She was sitting outside. She didn’t know what to say to Tabby. Sam wanted to make things easier for Reagan when she and Grace got there, but she wasn’t sure what to say. She had called Tabitha on the way over to tell her that they were coming, but now Sam couldn’t even make herself get out of the car.
Sam’s thought were broken by a tap on her car door window. It startled her and she slightly jumped. She turned to see Tabitha beside her car.
“Coming in?” Tabby asked.
Sam smiled and nodded. She opened her car door and got out. She followed Tabitha back inside the apartment. Sam couldn’t keep her eyes off Tabitha’s ass. Sam shook her head but couldn’t shake her thoughts about Tabitha.
“How can she look so damn sexy in those sweats? It has to be the accent. Maybe, it’s her eyes. Nope, it’s definitely her butt. I want her,” Sam mused.
“Sorry?” Tabitha asked.
“Huh?”
“What did you ask me?”
“Oh…has Gracie called you yet?” Sam asked, blushing.
“Yeah, she told me that she’d be over soon with the victim.”
“She tell you who it was?”
“No,” Tabitha answered, but suddenly looked worried, “Do I know them? I know them?”
“Probably,” Sam answered.
“Probably?”
“Look, it’s not my place to tell you. But…I need you to be objective. I…Grace doesn’t want you to freak out. If I tell you now, you freak out now, not later.”
“That seems like sound logic. I’ll do my best. It must be someone important for you and Grace to go through all this trouble to protect them.”
“It is. Sit down, please,” Sam started, and continued once they were both seated, “Grace is extremely protective of them both.”
“I know that. I just don’t know why,” Tabitha replied.
“Tabitha, our living victim is Reagan Knightley,” Sam told her.
“Reagan Knightley, as in CEO, founder, president, et cetera of KnightTech.”
“The same,” Sam answered.
“So, why so much secrecy about her? I don’t get it. Why couldn’t you just tell me it was her before?” Tabitha asked.
“I didn’t have clearance.”
“Is she top secret or something?”
“Well, no,” Sam answered.
“Then, why could you tell me?”
“She is Grace’s partner,” Sam told her.
Sam saw the look of shook come over Tabby’s face. Sam watched as the realization of Grace’s predicament and her over-protection set in. Tabitha’s astonishment turned into respect for everyone.
“I know how hard this must be for all of you, now.”
“You have no idea,” Sam replied.
“I understand why you’ve done what you’ve done. Everything makes sense now. I’m sorry I pushed you so hard the other night. I just don’t like secrets. Don’t misunderstand me, though. I understand why I can’t know everything about the case. Don’t worry about it. Never mind. Just forget it. Just know that I understand your reasoning.”
“Good, but now I need you to act all professional when they get here.”
“You mean don’t act weird,” Tabby stated.
“Yeah, I don’t want anyone feeling weirder than they have to.”
“I understand. I’ll do my best. This will give me a new focus for the project. We should make a schedule up so we can work on the program when you aren’t too busy, with the case and all,” Tabitha said.
“I have no idea when that’ll be. But, what about you? Aren’t you working on a new show?”
“I do art when I’m moved to do art. I may have a deadline for my new show, but that has never stopped me before. Besides, I always have some reserve collections no one has seen or it has been a long time since they have been shown that they can fill in any gaps.”
“Reserves?”
“Did you think that an artist puts all new work in a show?”
“Well, yeah,” Sam answered.
“No, darling. If we did that, our souls would be bare. We reserve the right to show what we want and to even sell it. There are some pieces that I have never sold, even though I’ve been offered a substantial amount for some of them. They are too intensely personal to let go of, though. I’m sure you can understand that,” Tabitha told her.
“Absolutely. I just hope that you would still share that artwork with the world. It would be a shame to be locked up and never shown. But, then again, art is my escape, so I understand.”
“Your escape?”
“Yeah, when I’m upset, I visit a gallery.”
“Interesting,” Tabitha replied.
“Why do you say that?” Sam questioned.
“You’re more of an enigma than I originally thought.”
“An enigma?”
“You’re a puzzle. A puzzle I plan on cracking and solving, but a puzzle to me nonetheless. At least, it will be interesting.”
“Huh?”
“Nothing, don’t worry about it. I’m sure even a great detective like you will figure it out later. Until then, I deal with you how I see fit.”
“What the hell does that mean?” Sam asked.
Tabitha just laughed in response. Sam sat there dumbfounded. She had no idea that Tabitha was flirting with her, now.
“Relax, Sam, it’ll be okay.”
“It’d better be,” Sam replied.
“Or what?”
“Or…I don’t know, yet, but it’ll be bad, very bad.”
“I’m sure,” Tabitha stated.
Sam sat there staring at Tabitha, trying to decide if she should be angry or not. Sam had to admit that no one riled her like Tabitha did. She was glad they had just met, because Sam was beginning to wonder what a long term relationship with Tabitha would bring her. She sat there pondering, but secretly hoping that Grace and Reagan would get there soon.
As if divine intervention, Tabitha’s doorbell rang. She got up to answer the door. Sam hoped it was Grace. Sam was rewarded when Tabitha came back in the room. She came back with Reagan and Grace.
“Good afternoon, Reagan, Lieutenant,” Sam said, greeting them.
“Afternoon, Sergeant,” Grace replied.
“Good afternoon, Sam. How are you doing? Working hard, I see,” Reagan said.
“Trying to.”
“ ‘Ello, Reagan. I don’t think we’ve been properly introduced. My name is Tabitha Grey. I am an artist consultant with the Lexington County Sheriff’s Office. I am trying to help Sergeant Wannamaker and Lieutenant O’Shea solve their case. I understand that requires me to sketch you from a few different angles. I apologize for any discomfort or inconvenience this may cause you in advance,” Tabitha stated.
“Trust me, Tabitha, you aren’t the one that has inconvenienced me.”
“Gracie, why don’t you and Sam go work on your notes or your photo program while Reagan and I work together,” Tabitha suggested.
“Good idea,” Sam answered, taking the hint.
Grace kissed Reagan and then said, “I’ll be over there with Sam if you need me, Baby.”
“I’ll be fine. Go on and do your work. Let me do mine,” Reagan replied.
Grace smiled at her. Tabitha and Sam both smiled at the situation. Reagan smiled because she knew that everyone was tre
ading lightly for her sake. They were all glad the tension had finally lifted.
Tabitha waited for Sam to gather Grace up and get her out of the actual studio before she had Reagan follow her to her “printing lab.” Tabitha motioned for Reagan to have a seat on a padded stool. Reagan sat down without any fanfare. They were both glad that the other understood each other’s discomfort.
“So, president of KnightTech?” Tabitha asked.
“Yeah.”
“That must be interesting,” Tabitha said, trying to lighten the mood.
“Not really,” Reagan replied.
“Reagan, relax. I’m not trying to take a deposition. I’m trying to make small talk. I’ve found it helps my clients relax,” Tabitha told her.
“Clients?”
“Would you prefer I called you a victim?”
“No,” Reagan answered, “I’m sorry. I tried to forget everything and then last year, the bastard started again. This time it was deadly.”
“I know. I am sorry. I know that I cannot understand your pain, but I am just going to sketch you. If at any time you‘re uncomfortable or you need a break, tell me.”
“Thank you,” Reagan replied.
“For what?”
“Being reasonable.”
“I try to be, anyway.”
“You have a better bedside manner than most detectives,” Reagan told her.
“I try. But then again, I don’t have to deal with what they deal with every day. I paint. I sculpt. I just happen to also be a consultant for sketches for the sheriff.”
“Is that why you are working with Sam?”
“Yeah, she has a good mind for computers. She just doesn’t have the eye for art. Her program needs us both. That is where I came into this case,” Tabitha explained.
“Then, we are both working on the same thing.”
“How so?” Tabitha questioned.
“I’m helping Sam with the code. It’s what I do. I made a deal with Sam and the LSO for the rights to the program once it’s finished,” Reagan stated.
“Meaning?”
“They get the program and any of the updates for free. I get to sell it on the open market to other agencies. However, I already told Sam that all the profits were going into further R and D and the LSO officers’ fund.”
“That’s good. Wait, stay right there, don’t move,” Tabitha stated, changing positions but not stopping her sketching, “Please continue.”