Page 12 of Carter

“Are you re-opening the case or not?” he asks, lifting his chin slightly. He’s a fighter.

I like that. He probably doesn’t realize it, though. Or else he wouldn’t be living like this.

“I am going to do everything in my power to open this case and find Ryan’s killer.” I step closer. “But in order to do that, I need you to help me.” His brow raises. “It’s not only my decision to open cases. I have to present information. It takes time and—”

“Resources and money. Yada, yada, yada. Tell me something I don’t know.”

I sigh. “If you want to find the person who did this, then you’ll work with me, Carter. Not against me.” I pull a card from my inner jacket pocket. “Keep this one. Call me when you’ve thought about it and you’re ready to talk.” I step into the hallway and look back at him over my shoulder. “The sooner, the better.”

I don’t take case files home with me. Work is at the office. Home is home, even if it doesn’t feel like it. I’ve got everything I need in my house, plus more, to make it livable and somewhat relaxing, but there’s something missing. Or maybe I’ve never known what it is to have a home, and maybe this is all it is. Maybe there is nothing special to it. Maybe this house is too goddamn big because why does a single guy need a four-bedroom house?

I need boundaries to keep myself sane. I know that after years on the force. But old habits die hard. Ryan Kinsley’s case file sits on my dining table, waiting for my dinner to finish so I can look through it again.

Everything that should be here is here. Lab reports. Autopsy report. Statements. Evidence logs. Crime scene photos.

It’s just not enough. Not because we couldn’t have gotten it, but because this was “just another stabbing in New York City.” Cops do what they can with what they have, and if they don’t find someone quickly, they let it go to move on to the next five that just happened ten minutes ago.

It’s not an excuse, and that’s why I’m here. These people deserve closure too.

It’s true that it’s not only up to me to re-open cases. I need to present them to my boss, Roger Daniels, and give him a good enough reason why we should put resources into them. Resources meaning just me. I’ve spoken to Daniels enough times, but I haven’t had to ask him to open a case yet. I’m not sure how rigid he’ll be on it and what his main goal is. Because maybe resources will have a different meaning over here; maybe it does mean more people, time, money.

Did he hire me to fill a position to make the force look good, or does he really care about solving these cases? I just need one little thing in this file to run with, and I’ll get my answer.

Whether or not Carter Evans is going to help is still a mystery, but I need to give him time. It was only a few short hours ago that I spoke with him, and it looks like it’s going to take time for him to make up his mind on the matter.

It seems he’s had bad luck with cops. I’m not surprised, but I am determined to do better.

So I’ll be patient and let him come to me. For a little while. A week, maybe. If I don’t hear from him by then, I’m going back.

I bring my leftover chicken parm to the table and sit, leaving it off to the right so there is no chance of getting sauce on the file. I have an office here, but if I use it, then I’ll keep using it. And I’m trying not to do what I did before. Spend every waking moment working.

With my right hand, I eat. With my left, I flip through pages and scan each one carefully.

Not a single person was re-interviewed. Not even Carter, even though it’s noted he showed up at the precinct multiple times to speak with someone. No one ever gave him the time of day. It’s bullshit.

Reading over the narrative tells me it won’t be an easy case to solve. Someone was being assaulted in an alleyway. Ryan and Carter were taking a shortcut through to get home. They came across it. Ryan stepped in. He got stabbed. The woman being assaulted took off and was never found. The man who stabbed him took off and was never found. The two main people we need to solve this case are just… ghosts. Like they never existed at all.

Carter called emergency services. They showed up. Rushed Ryan to the hospital. He died during surgery.

It’s sad that this is a basic and predictable situation. It happens too often, and some part of you has to become numb to it, otherwise you feel it all, and then you can’t do your job. But you need to feel it a little or you’re just another asshole cop who doesn’t care. Balance. It isn’t fucking easy.

I have two things here that could help me get the case re-opened. The notes are bare, and no one was interviewed a second time. It’s enough for me to look into it again. It’ll just be easier if Carter calls me back so I can speak to him first. I’m just not sure that is going to happen.

Chapter six

Carter

I stare at the familiar dirty tile floor as I listen to Bernice talk about how she’s having trouble sleeping again. Her words come in and out. I’m trying to listen, to be supportive, but my chest aches. I need my turn to speak, but I just wasn’t ready the three times Tim has asked. I feel his attention on me. He knows something is up. I’m always an open book, ready to share how my week went. Today I’m quiet. A clam, as we like to joke. Nothing wrong with clams. They open when they want to.

“Thank you so much for sharing, Bernice. Does anyone else have anything they want to share?” Tim asks as he looks around the room.

Time is running out. I should speak up. I should say what I need to say. It’ll make me feel better. It always does. When I firstcame to group, I didn’t say a word, and I left feeling guilty and like a failure. Speaking at these support groups has changed me enough that I can sleep at night. I don’t want that to change.

“Yeah, I do,” I finally say, but I still can’t look up.

“Thank you, Carter,” Tim says.

I take a moment, closing my eyes and breathing.