with identification on the victim. "Warwick."
"Detective. You're a hard man to catch up with."
The
soft feminine voice belonged to Dr. Erica Christopher. She was the department
shrink. Crap. She handled the mandatory mental health evaluations for the
department and his number had come up more than a few times since last summer.
He'd played by the rules and had gone to her counseling sessions but this last
month he'd slacked off. She was getting a little too close to matters he didn't
want to discuss, so he'd canceled his last session. He had promised to
reschedule but hadn't. She'd been after him since, but so far, he'd done a good
job of dodging her. And he planned to keep ducking. He was tired of digging
deep into his thoughts.
Jacob
dropped his gaze. "I'm on my way out. Can we talk later?"
Zack
raised a brow, noting the change in Jacob's voice. He sipped his coffee and
watched, unashamed that he was eavesdropping.
"No."
She'd been easygoing up until this point, but there was no missing the steel in
her voice. "You and I need to schedule another appointment."
He
drummed his fingers on the desk. "I'm right in the middle of a murder
investigation."
"You're
always in the middle of something. But so am I." He heard the rustle of the
pages of her appointment book. "I'm at the hospital on Saturday afternoon.
How's three sound ?"
The
muscles in his back tensed like when he was boxed in against the ropes. "Not
good."
"Unless
you're donating an organ, Detective, I expect you to be in my office." He
imagined her piercing blue eyes peering over the edge of her black
half-glasses. She'd done that a lot during their sessions last fall. She was
savvy and she knew how to ferret out weakness.
"No
can do."
"Do
I call Ayden and have you put on leave until you do?"
Jacob's
temper rose. "Like hell you will."
"Get
in my office and we won't have a problem. Ditch this appointment and we've got
trouble."
She
had him by the short hairs and there wasn't much he could do about it. "Fine. Three. Saturday."
"Good."
He
slammed the phone. "That doctor is going to drive me insane."
Zack
tapped his finger against the side of his Styrofoam cup. "Dr. Christopher, I
presume."
"Yeah."
"She's
a smart woman who knows her stuff."
"I've
seen her six times. I've done my due diligence. There's no more sense in
digging up the past. What's done is done. Time to move on." He said that a lot and most days believed it.
"A
few more visits won't kill you. Just do your time and be done with it."
In
the ring when he was against the ropes, he knew what to do: he came out
swinging. But with the doctor she made him think about things he flat out did
not want to consider.
The
phone rang a second time. He snapped it up. "Warwick."
It
was Connie Davidson with the missing persons division. Her gravelly voice
grated over the lines. "I think I might have a match for that Jane Doe you
found this morning."
"Great."
Paper
rustled as she flipped through notes. "We got a call from a Betty Smith. She
says her neighbor has been missing for a few days. The woman's name is White
and she fits your Jane Doe's description."
"What's
her full name?"
"Jackie
Taylor White. Lives at one-oh-three Mayberry Drive, Richmond."
"Jackie?"
That didn't fit. "The charm around her neck read Ruth ."
"Can't answer that one."
Jacob
frowned. "Right. Thanks." He hung up and brought Zack
up to speed.
Zack
nodded. "I'll get my coat. We can drive over now."
Within
fifteen minutes the two were in Jacob's car, the heater blasting, headed south
on Parham Road. Rush-hour traffic combined with lingering ice slowed their
progress. It took almost twenty minutes before they pulled up in front of the
small, one-story brick house.
White
snow blanketed the front lawn and under a large picture window hung a window
box filled with brown, drooping ivy coated in ice.
Jacob
and Zack got out of the car and walked up the cracked brick sidewalk to the
front door. Three newspapers lay on the
"Detective. You're a hard man to catch up with."
The
soft feminine voice belonged to Dr. Erica Christopher. She was the department
shrink. Crap. She handled the mandatory mental health evaluations for the
department and his number had come up more than a few times since last summer.
He'd played by the rules and had gone to her counseling sessions but this last
month he'd slacked off. She was getting a little too close to matters he didn't
want to discuss, so he'd canceled his last session. He had promised to
reschedule but hadn't. She'd been after him since, but so far, he'd done a good
job of dodging her. And he planned to keep ducking. He was tired of digging
deep into his thoughts.
Jacob
dropped his gaze. "I'm on my way out. Can we talk later?"
Zack
raised a brow, noting the change in Jacob's voice. He sipped his coffee and
watched, unashamed that he was eavesdropping.
"No."
She'd been easygoing up until this point, but there was no missing the steel in
her voice. "You and I need to schedule another appointment."
He
drummed his fingers on the desk. "I'm right in the middle of a murder
investigation."
"You're
always in the middle of something. But so am I." He heard the rustle of the
pages of her appointment book. "I'm at the hospital on Saturday afternoon.
How's three sound ?"
The
muscles in his back tensed like when he was boxed in against the ropes. "Not
good."
"Unless
you're donating an organ, Detective, I expect you to be in my office." He
imagined her piercing blue eyes peering over the edge of her black
half-glasses. She'd done that a lot during their sessions last fall. She was
savvy and she knew how to ferret out weakness.
"No
can do."
"Do
I call Ayden and have you put on leave until you do?"
Jacob's
temper rose. "Like hell you will."
"Get
in my office and we won't have a problem. Ditch this appointment and we've got
trouble."
She
had him by the short hairs and there wasn't much he could do about it. "Fine. Three. Saturday."
"Good."
He
slammed the phone. "That doctor is going to drive me insane."
Zack
tapped his finger against the side of his Styrofoam cup. "Dr. Christopher, I
presume."
"Yeah."
"She's
a smart woman who knows her stuff."
"I've
seen her six times. I've done my due diligence. There's no more sense in
digging up the past. What's done is done. Time to move on." He said that a lot and most days believed it.
"A
few more visits won't kill you. Just do your time and be done with it."
In
the ring when he was against the ropes, he knew what to do: he came out
swinging. But with the doctor she made him think about things he flat out did
not want to consider.
The
phone rang a second time. He snapped it up. "Warwick."
It
was Connie Davidson with the missing persons division. Her gravelly voice
grated over the lines. "I think I might have a match for that Jane Doe you
found this morning."
"Great."
Paper
rustled as she flipped through notes. "We got a call from a Betty Smith. She
says her neighbor has been missing for a few days. The woman's name is White
and she fits your Jane Doe's description."
"What's
her full name?"
"Jackie
Taylor White. Lives at one-oh-three Mayberry Drive, Richmond."
"Jackie?"
That didn't fit. "The charm around her neck read Ruth ."
"Can't answer that one."
Jacob
frowned. "Right. Thanks." He hung up and brought Zack
up to speed.
Zack
nodded. "I'll get my coat. We can drive over now."
Within
fifteen minutes the two were in Jacob's car, the heater blasting, headed south
on Parham Road. Rush-hour traffic combined with lingering ice slowed their
progress. It took almost twenty minutes before they pulled up in front of the
small, one-story brick house.
White
snow blanketed the front lawn and under a large picture window hung a window
box filled with brown, drooping ivy coated in ice.
Jacob
and Zack got out of the car and walked up the cracked brick sidewalk to the
front door. Three newspapers lay on the
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