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Ignoring the rumbling in his stomach, he began reading the comments. Someone, likely a public relations rep, had posted the news of the devastating death of Gabrielle and the critical injuries suffered by her partner, Henry.
Every comment, and there were literally hundreds of them, were messages of shock, sympathy, and grief. After going through half of them, he decided to switch gears.
The shooter wasn’t going to post on social media that they deserved what had happened to them. He was smarter than that.
If their perp knew Gabrielle on a personal level, it was more likely he’d be featured in previous posts. Not the most recent ones. He scrolled through them, overwhelmed by the sheer number, and tried to find any photos of Gabrielle with a man who wasn’t Henry, her ice-skating partner.
After a solid twenty minutes, he had nothing to show for his efforts. Then he realized he should be looking at their personal pages, not their professional ones.
Mentally kicking himself for being stupid, he found Gabrielle’s personal page. To his surprise, that one wasn’t private. And he found one photo with Gabrielle smiling into the camera with a man beside her. He stared at the image for a long moment, but the guy’s face didn’t match the sketch Elly had done.
Still, he made a point of digging further to find the guy’s name. Keith Daniels. He made a note of the name, then checked the simple case search to see if the guy had been in trouble with the law. Since he didn’t have a date of birth, the results were inconclusive.
He’d have to check with Steele on whether he could find any intel on the guy. He didn’t honestly think Gabrielle’s boyfriend, if that’s who Keith was, would have hired the shooter to do the deed. But they needed to cover all their bases and follow up on every possibility.
No matter how remote.
“Joe?”
Hearing Elly’s husky voice sent a ripple of awareness shimmering down his spine. He glanced over to find her sitting upright on the sofa, her auburn hair mussed from sleep.
“Hey.” He smiled. “You look better after your nap.”
“It was nice to sleep without dreams,” she admitted.
Her comment hit him hard. He hated knowing she’d suffered nightmares after the shooting event at the parade. Granted, her nightmare had meant she wasn’t lying in bed when the guy had taken his third attempt to kill her. “I’m sorry about the nightmares, Elly. They’ll get better over time, but you may need to see a specialist.”
“I’ve considered that.” Her smile was sad. “It seems wrong to be so traumatized when others lost their lives. Their loved ones.”
“Everyone suffers in an event like this.” He longed to pull her into his arms for a kiss but stayed where he was. “Don’t downplay the actions you took last night. You ran into danger to help others.”
“Surprised myself,” she murmured. “Basically, I acted without thinking.” She hesitated, then added, “Honestly, a lot of that was because of you being there too. When I saw Kyle lying on the ground, bleeding, I feared the worst.”
He tried to think of something else to say. Her comment about his being there was humbling. They’d both done their jobs, yet here they were, spending time together because the danger was still out there.
“I know God was watching over us, Joe.”
He nodded slowly. He knew the Finnegan family was big into their faith and church. He used to attend church as a kid, but that had changed when his father began drinking. Maybe he needed to reconsider going back at some point.
She yawned, covering her mouth. “No coffee?” She looked disappointed.
“I held off because I didn’t want to wake you.” He jumped up, anxious for something to do. “I’ll make it now.”
“Thanks.” She rose and tugged the blanket off the sofa. “I’ll be back in a few.”
He nodded, busying himself with the in-room coffee service. What was wrong with him? He needed to bring his emotions down a notch. Or two.
Or ten.
He’d known Elly for years. Granted, he’d only gotten to know her a little better during this past year when it seemed the Finnegan family was constantly in danger. He needed to think of her as Rhy’s baby sister.
When Elly emerged from the bathroom, he knew his attempt to keep her at arm’s length was failing badly. Yet he did his best not to let his feelings show. He poured a cup of coffee for her, then found the powdered creamer and sugar that he knew she liked. “Here you go.”
“Thanks.” She smiled gratefully as she doctored her cup and took a sip. Then her gaze darted to the computer. “What are you doing?”
He drank his coffee black, the way most cops did. He set his cup near the computer and dropped back into his seat. “I’m digging into Gabrielle and Henry’s social media posts. I keep thinking there might be a reason she was the first victim.”
“Can I help?” Elly pulled the other chair over to sit beside him. He wanted to protest, but of course, he couldn’t.
