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“I’m aware,” she said with a grin. She reached across the table and pulled a marker from a cup. “Which is why—” She paused as she circled the top names in red. “—I had the names listed in order of most frequent contact.”
I took the paper and looked the names over.Kiera Martin. Sean McCormick. Daniel Pisner.
“Kiera’s the last witness to see her, so that leaves these,” I remarked. Andraya nodded as I moved my finger down to the name just under her bleeding ink. “Callum McPhearson.”
“I figured you’d choose him instead, which is why I pulled information for those three boys as well.” She slid over her next group of papers. It was a report of their basic information and history with law enforcement alongside their current picture for the student IDs issued.
“Fantastic,” I praised as I took the documents from her and skimmed for the usual red flags, but I found hardly any.
My eye caught on one key fact.
“They’re all in the same fraternity?” I questioned. Andraya’s head did a slow bob as she pursed her lips. “It’s Sigma, where Kiera said they were for the night.” I flipped back to Callum’s document. “If Callum is the president, then I want an interview set up with him next week.”
“I have it on my to-do, sir. It’s not going to be easy. He comes from old money. He has connections. When I start snooping, his father, if not his grandfather, won’t be happy to see light shed on them related to this incident.” She spoke with true concern. McPhearson was a name that carried weight here. Politically, their fingers were in many pots.
“We operate as close to the book as possible. Nothing happens without proper channels and requests. If Callum knows anything, I want to know it too.” I pulled the notebook from my back pocket and scribbled down the names for later.
“Outside of that contact, we pulled her emails. It was mostly spam, shipment notifications, alerts for notifications that we had already combed through. Do these kids even use email properly?” She pushed more papers over. These were pieces of conversations.
“What the hell do these names even mean?”
“They’re dating apps of sorts. We went through her phone applications as well and pulled conversations from the most recent people.” She tapped the username and picture on the first page. “She had just met up with this one: Keith. She had plans after the fraternity party to meet up with this one.” She pointed to another paper that said BJ, but it didn’t have a photo of a person. The information was overly generic as well.
“I can’t look for a building to arrest,” I muttered as I pulled the paper closer. “Does this BJ have a real person behind it that I can find?” She looked away from me, tucking her lips as the realization dawned on me.
“I’m still working on it, Noah. That account leads to an internet cafe each time we trace a sign on.”
“Any cameras?” I inquired. She shook her head in response. “He has to have made an error somewhere.”
“I agree. If it’s there, we’ll find it. I took the liberty of printing vague things we found just in case you might see something we didn’t. Her interactions weren’t abnormal for a young woman her age.” She stood and took another look at the grim pictures. When she made her way across the room, she pulled the door closed with a soft click behind her.
I ran my hands down my face. My cheeks were rough from not shaving, and my skin was fatigued. I glanced at my watch, confirming the time on the wall clock. Grabbing the overnight bag I kept in a cabinet drawer, I headed to the locker room.
It was late; there was only a skeleton crew for investigative services. The regular night shift crew were already dispatched to their locations, which meant the locker room was quiet as well. I stepped into a shower bay and pulled the curtain closed as I set my bag on the stand.
I unbuttoned my sleeve cuffs, freeing my wrists. I reached for my tie, and the air felt hot and thick. Thoughts of Trisha’s mutilated body, a killer at large, and the painful screams of a mother suddenly made it hard to breathe. I yanked on my tie; the knot wouldn’t budge as my hand began to shake.
Get it together, Noah.
I took a steadying breath and pulled my tie in the other direction. The loop loosened in two motions, and I slipped it off and stowed it in the bag. I made quick work of undressing the rest of the way and turning the shower on.
Without caring about the temperature, I stepped into the stream. A hiss left my teeth as the icy-cold water felt like shards. My muscles tensed. Everything screamed to step back, but I fought against that urge and lowered my face into the cold curtain of water.
DNA. Patterns. History. There’s a story here that holds the answers.
I let the cold offer my mind clarity, and just as a shiver set in, the water began to shift from lukewarm to blistering hot.
It washed away the grime left on me from the gruesomeness. A quick maneuver of body wash and shampoo and I was ready to track down this abomination.
I turned the knob and toweled off quickly. I wanted to finish the paperwork I had on my desk and take the rest of the night to be with my family.
The clock on the wall continued to tick away, but this time the ticks of my wristwatch had joined in the worst symphony, guaranteed to drive a man mad. 11:30 p.m. and I was no closer. Paperwork forgotten, I had become locked in a stare down with my evidence board.
“Bishop.” Detective Hatcher suddenly burst through my door, causing me to nearly leap out of my chair. “Sorry, boss,” he offered when I dropped my head to my hand.
“You’re fine, Hatch. I’m just exhausted.” I waved him in and motioned for him to take a seat in front of my desk.
“Understandable, we’ve all been pushing our limits. How’s the wife taking this?” My wife, Diane, was not taking it well at all.
