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The captain nodded. “All valid. What does the ME say? Has he confirmed cause of death?”
“She’s doing the autopsy this afternoon,” Kit said. “Dr.Batra is on the case.”
“She’s good,” the captain said. “We’ll wait to see what she says. If she believes there is any reason to doubt that he hanged himself, we’ll act accordingly. And if she concludes that Driscoll killed himself, then we still need to find those answers. Especially if there are more victims. And we need to identify the two bodies that are still Jane Does.”
Navarro had moved his gaze from Kit to Baz. “What are you thinking, Baz?”
Baz leaned back against the door, scrubbing his palm over his face. “Right now, I’m thinking I want to go to sleep. But mostly I’m thinking that this guy confessed. We’ve been stymied on this case for fifteen years, ever since we found that first body. For a lot of us, this is the case that keeps us up at night sometimes.” He glanced at Kit, his eyes full of regret. “One of the cases,” he said, and Kit knew he meant Wren’s murder. “I want this to be true, Reynaldo. It quacks like a duck.”
Kit’s chest tightened. All three of these men had worked Homicide for years, were familiar with this investigation. Of course they’d have an emotional component to wanting to solve it. She did on the fresh cases she’d caught for the past four years. She did on the cold cases as well. She gave Baz an understanding smile, the band around her heart loosening when he smiled back. Argument settled. They were good.
Navarro nodded grimly. “I want this to be true, too. We’ll wait to see what Batra says after she’s done with the autopsy and then we’ll go from there. Go home, both of you. Get some rest, because either way, we need to know what Driscoll was up to. And we need to reopen the investigation into the unidentified victims. We need to give their families closure as well.”
“Yes, sir,” Kit murmured.
Baz simply waved. “Night, all.”
“Wait,” the captain said. “This psychologist. Reeves. Are we sure he’s on the level?”
Baz nodded. “His boss confirms his story. Seems like this guy just wanted to do the right thing but was between a rock and a hard place with his personal and professional ethics.”
“In fact, I’d like to request a letter from the department, sir,” Kit added. “Thanking him. It will also go to show that his arrest was a misunderstanding. Something like that could damage his career and he already risked it to help.”
“I’ll draft it up today,” Navarro promised. “You can look it over before I send it out.”
“Thank you. Come on, old man,” she said to Baz. “I’ll drive you home.”
CHAPTER SIX
San Diego, California
Saturday, April 9, 3:15 p.m.
Oh my God.” Ann Reeves put a hand to her throat as Sam finished the tale of his overnight adventure. “They arrested you?”
He and Joel had come straight to his parents’ apartment after picking up Siggy, and now the four of them were gathered around the dining room table, surrounded by remnants of their late lunch—leftover lasagna from the night before.
“And then they let me go,” Sam assured her. “It was just a misunderstanding. Everything is fine, Mom.”
“But your face.” His mother stared at the bruise darkening his cheek. “They hit you?”
“Not exactly,” Sam told her. “They were arresting me and I... well, I...” He drew a breath. “They grabbed my arms.”
“Oh,” his parents said together.
“You struggled,” his mother said quietly.
“I did. One of the detectives was maybe a little rougher than she needed to be.”
He wasn’t going to mention that the detective in question was six inches shorter and sixty pounds lighter than he was. That was humiliating.
Ann’s mouth tightened in fury. “We should sue them.”
“No,” Sam said quickly. “I did my duty. I just want to walk away.” With what’s left of my dignity intact.
Bill Reeves turned to Joel, who was consuming his second plate of lasagna.
“This won’t hurt his career?” Bill asked.
