Page 24 of In His Sights

“He’s already done it.”

Gary turned. “When?” As a rule, Del didn’t work weekends, although there was usually one forensic pathologist working Saturdays.

“He came in Saturday morning. Riley attended. We were here doing stuff for Travers.”

A wave of gratitude crashed over him. “You all went to a lot of trouble. I do appreciate that.”

“We didn’t want you to have to confront all the prelim work. You didn’t need that.”

Gary sighed. “Sometimes you can be a real pain in the ass, you know that, right? And then you go do something like this.”

Lewis shrugged. “You’d do the same for me if the roles were reversed.”

“Is that why you haven’t mentioned that you saw Nina Peterson?”

Lewis arched his eyebrows. “Travers said I was to keep you away from this one. So in my book, you didn’t need to know.” Another shrug. “If you’ve got a problem with that, take it up with Travers.”

“That’s why I didn’t mention it either,” Riley said from the doorway. Gary knew Riley’s softer tone was meant to placate him.

“What about the photo Cory sent her? Did you get a result?” Gary glared at them. “You can share that much, surely.”

Lewis took a moment before replying. “No luck. It was another stock photo.”

Well, fuck.

“We’re gonna get a break on this, you know that, right?” Riley’s voice rang with confidence. “Who knows? This Porter guy might be it.”

Gary ignored Lewis’s barely stifled snort.

A taped box sat on the corner of the desk. Gary pointed to it. “That looks like evidence,” he remarked, noting the seals.

“That’s because it is. Travers had me and Riley go down there—on Saturday morning too—and pick out stuff that had belonged to all the victims. Mostly jewelry, watches… I guess it’s for Mr. Psychic.” Lewis made a spooky noise and waggled his fingers. “Get your tickets here for the first performance.”

“Just can it, will you?” The phone burst into life, and Gary grabbed the handset. “Okay. We’ll be right there.” He replaced it. “Travers wants us in his office.”

“Now what?” Lewis muttered as they headed in that direction.

Gary ignored him. As they entered Travers’s office, the man seated in front of his desk rose, rubbing his hand down the leg of his pants as he did so. He was about Gary’s height, maybe a little shorter, with warm brown hair styled in an expensively cut quiff sweeping up from his forehead. His shirt was deep purple, as was his tie, and his waistcoat and pants were dark blue. A jacket hung over the back of the chair. He stood still as they approached the desk and met Gary’s gaze with an unblinking stare.

It wasn’t a face that would have stood out in a crowd. A nondescript kind of face. Hazel eyes appraised Gary, the corners of his mouth turned slightly upward but not smiling. A square jaw with only the faintest hint of stubble. The guy exuded a calm that Gary envied.

“I’d like to introduce Dan Porter.” Travers gestured to them. “Mr. Porter, these are Detectives Gary Mitchell, Lewis Stevens, and Riley Watson.”

Mr. Porter gave a polite nod, which Gary returned. Riley took a step forward. “Hey.” Lewis hung back by the door, silent.

“This is the lead squad on this case,” Travers continued, “so you’ll be working with them. We’ll be interested to see what you can come up with.”

Lewis folded his arms. “We don’t need to tell you anything, do we? All we have to do is hand you something that belonged to the victim andyoucan tellus.” His smug smile made Gary’s hackles rise.

Mr. Porter’s polite expression didn’t alter. “You’ve been checking up on me.”

Lewis scowled. “No.”

“Yet you know I work by touch a lot of the time?” Mr. Porter’s tone was even.

“I’m not stupid. I watch TV.”

For God’s sake….The guy was there to help them, and Lewis was being a dick.

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