Page 40 of Lost and Found
He reached into his wallet and handed him a business card. “If anything makes you say ‘huh,’ give me a call, would you?”
The officer read the card and tapped it against his palm, weighing his response. “Coworkers, huh?”
“On and off.” Wes shrugged. “She’s a tough one. But a good one.”
“They both are.”
Point taken. Wes nodded. “Agreed. Thanks for looking out.”
Dougherty lifted his chin. “If something smells off, I’ll make sure you’re told.”
Wes thanked him and drove off into the night, unhappy that he wasn’t better versed in the plan to watch her house. He didn’t like leaving Matt unsecured during the day. Then again, he was at a camp that had surely been vetted and had security protocols to keep all the kids safe.
A thread of silver moonlight made the night emptier. Lonelier. The drive to his hotel stretched on forever even though it was only a few miles. He rubbed the back of his neck and took a deep breath to ease the pressure. That didn’t work. Wes ordered his Bluetooth to call Vivian.
“It’s late,” she answered. “Someone better not be dead or dying.”
“Why didn’t you tell me Bailey Cosgrove had a kid?”
An extra beat of silence hung. “Because that’s news to me.”
“Why wouldn’t she tell you?”
Vivian hummed. “I don’t know. How’d you find out?”
Wes squinted at the road, kicking himself in the ass for walking into that question. “I showed up at her house.” He checked his mirrors and changed lanes. “Unannounced.”
“Brilliant move. Are you two having a problem?”
“No.”
“Then why the hell would you show up without a warning? What the hell’s going on?”
“No problems.” He’d wanted to see her. That was all. “I needed to follow up on an unfinished conversation.” Not exactly a lie, and he still had things he wanted to say to Bailey. Nothing specific. But he just…liked being near her.
“Fine. Let me know if your history festers into a problem, and since I have you on the phone, can you loop me into whatever Dean’s digging into? He said it’s a can of worms.”
“I’ve asked him to find women who were strangled and lost their watches or had them stolen.”
“Why do you care about watches?”
“We’ve found three strangulation victims. All women. All lost their watches.”
“Watches are stolen all the time, Wes.”
He slowed and exited onto an access road for the hotel. “There were two other victims strangled close by, though the MO is completely different. It’s strange. Probably unrelated.”
“But if not, you’re thinking it’s a calling card of some kind?”
“I don’t know. That’s what’s bothering me. Different victimology. Different strangulation methods. A straight woman, not sexually assaulted. A sexually assaulted straight woman. A gay man, not assaulted.”
“Not related, then.”
Wes pulled into a parking spot and scanned the parking lot lit with the amber glow of overhead streetlights. “Probably not. I’ll check in with Dean tomorrow and ask if he’s learned anything else about where the photo delivery came from.”
“If he had it, he’d have told you.” She yawned. “Glad no one is dead or dying. Talk to you later.”
Wes took the elevator to his hotel room. Talking to Vivian didn’t ease the heavy weight on his shoulders. He stared at himself in the long mirror that doubled as an accordion closet door. If something was wrong with him, he couldn’t see it.
