I waited for hours for Logan to show up. I glance up at the clock on my wall and see that it’s only two-thirty. JoJo and the rest of the team arrived ten minutes ago with bins full of evidence. Mostly from the Houston nightclub, there was also some from Dallas, New York, Orlando, and Los Angeles. And being the only one to actually get a glimpse of the guy, I was stuck here for the night going over anything and everything to see if I could jog my memory. I’ve considered doing hypnosis but the mere thought of being forced to dig back into my memories almost triggers my PTSD.
Every few minutes, I look outside my open office door, hoping to catch a glimpse of Logan. When I finally hear a knock at my door, my heart falls a little when it’s JoJo instead.
“Hey man, we’ve got the evidence downstairs in the conference room, including the stuff from yesterday. Want to head down with me?”
I let out a sigh and nod. “Yeah, sure.”
“Everything okay?”
“It will be. Is Logan coming?”
“There was a bit of a family thing so I told him to come in tomorrow.” He turns around and walks off with his half-assed excuse.
“Of course,” I grumble. I straighten the papers on my desk, stalling until he leaves. What we’re about to do is more important than some family issue. “It’s only Brad’s fucking killer.”
“What is it now?” JoJo bites back. I look up and see him staring at me. The annoyance is evident. I’ve been moaning and moping for the better part of the day, getting none of the work done that’s been piling up on my desk. I’ve only been back a day and I’m starting to think that JoJo’s trying to keep another incident like yesterday from happening. Instead of near-misses of cars and melt downs, I’m drowning in paperwork.
“Nothing.” The word comes out short but I can’t help it. I feel like shit, Logan is ignoring me, and this day is dragging on. The only thing that seems to make me happy is the thought that I’ll be balls deep in evidence for the next few hours, trying to catch the fucker who is hell bent on destroying my life even more.
I watch him sigh, still looking at me through slanted eyes until his face softens a bit. “Lindsay’s home.” He walks out the door without saying another word.
Suzie’s words swim in my head. Don’t give up on him.
But it’s hard not to when things like Lindsay finally coming home doesn’t even warrant a call from him.
I swipe my hands across my face and let out a deep breath. I slowly stand up at my desk and walk to my door. Since my office is the furthest one from the staircase, I have a bit of time to think before making my way down to the conference room.
Suzie has no idea how much I’m taking her words to heart. I can’t give up on Logan; there’s no other option. But does he have to make everything so damn hard?
“Clear your head, Gable. Stop thinking about Logan and the bigger mess you’re making over him than is necessary. He means nothing. Absolutely nothing.” I try to give myself a pep talk but it’s useless. I can’t stop thinking about him and the way his hands glided over my body last night, the way his tongue and mouth devoured me, or how his ass perfectly clenched my…
“Doc, you coming in here or you just going to stand out there all day talking to yourself?” Startled, I look up at JoJo and realize that I’m downstairs. There’s a few apprehensive eyes glancing in my direction but I ignore them and make my way into the conference room.
* * *
“Anyone know what this is?”
I let the guy – Johnson or Jackson; I can’t remember – hold up a small piece of paper inside a small, clear evidence bag. It’s ripped at one of the corners and the ink is smudged. Almost like he meant to erase something.
I take the piece of paper from him to examine it closer. “You don’t know yet?” I give him a skeptical look as he narrows his eyes.
“We haven’t had time to log all the evidence in yet as we’ve made Houston our base of operations. Two hits in Texas in this short of time makes us wonder if the asshole is from here. Having everything sent to us from all over the country has taken some time to sort everything out.” The guy crosses his arms and strides over to me, his eyes still gleaming at me from behind horn-rimmed glasses. “Excuse us if we’re not up to speed, your highness.”
“Johansson! Cut it out. Lose the attitude or face another write-up!” I hold back a smile as he turns red at the authoritative voice.
Unimpressed by the giant lug in front of me, I give him a smirk before turning to the voice. I notice the older man is the same big guy that JoJo was accommodating yesterday. He sticks his hand out to me, and I take it in my own.
“Assistant Director Wilkerson, sir. I’m sorry I missed the briefing earlier, but your partner tells me you’re one of the best in the city –”
“– world.”
“– has to offer. Please excuse the snarky assholes that work for me. Some of them like to cause trouble and think they’re lead investigator of this operation when I’m not around.”
I slide my gaze to where Johansson sits and he shoots his eyes down quickly to the large bag in front of him.
“No worries, sir. Some dogs are just untrainable.”
A small chuckle passes through Wilkerson’s lips with a nod. “Too damn right. So, Rodriguez tells me that you’ve been MIA for a bit. That gonna be a problem because he said that you were my contact for this?”
“As I told JoJo yesterday, I might have been playing doctor for a bit but I’m ready. Nothing will keep me off this investigation and you can bet your balls that I’ll do what it takes to keep on track. Even going on my own if your men get in my way.” I hold my stance as our eyes meet, neither one of us blinking or letting down. JoJo may have been joking when he said that he didn’t want us going rogue, but I was more than ready to do just that if these feds try to throw me aside.
“Okay.” He finally says. “There’s no need to go off the grid. But we need to be in constant contact at all times.
I only nod my head and we finally make our way back to the tables that have the Houston evidence lying around.
“Unfortunately, Johansson was right. HPD could only do so much with the evidence as each attack on the clubs around the country has been declared an act of terrorism. Each city has their own ongoing investigation but we’re the top of the food chain. Nothing gets released – evidence, statements, or press conferences – without our say so.
“There’s something about this guy, something big that we’re missing. He’s about to make a huge mistake, I can feel it. You’re the only person that has seen this man. Twice. He’s already starting to slip up, and it’s only a matter of time. Once we get all this stuff organized, we’ll have a clearer idea of where to really start digging.” He finally takes a breath and looks at the bag in my hand. “We may as well start somewhere. What’s that you’ve got there?”
“Well, before your man went apeshit on me, I was trying to figure it out. Who’s had a chance to look at this?” I wave my hand over the evidence, trying to find some sort of organization. But it’s still just a pile of bags and boxes.
“Unfortunately, not many people. We’ve been going through everything from the beginning with fresh eyes. We haven’t touched the Dallas or Houston boxes much. Feel free to start, though.” As if on impulse, he takes the bag from me and studies the writing. “Some of the letters and numbers can’t be made out. If I didn’t know any better, it looks like a flight number or a hangar number.”
I squint my eyes and take a better look. “Oh yeah. See the last four letters of this part here? It looks like it’s part of a logo. See this bit here? It’s got a plane wing just above the letters RT, but I can’t quite make it out. It looks familiar but I can’t place it.”
“Look, I’ve got a meeting with the mayor in less than an hour. Why don’t you start sorting through the evidence bins and see if anything sticks out? Delegate where you have to. Come back to that paper later.”
I give my head a firm nod and turn toward the bin in front of me.
“Cameron?”
I swivel back around and Wilkerson’s hard look softens a bit. “We’ll catch this fucker. It might take some time, but we’ll get him for you.”
I watch him walk away without another word.