Faces of Evil [2] Impulse Read Free

space again, this time more slowly, she noted discarded lounge pants and a t-shirt lay on the floor by the bed. Lori had gotten up and dressed for work. Both doors, closet and bathroom, remained closed.
    “What about her cell?”
    “I haven’t found her phone.”
    Chet was visibly rattled. Like Burnett, Lori was his colleague. But for Chet there was more. He wanted a personal relationship with Lori. Jess had a feeling there had already been some serious physical bonding. She also understood that, for now, she needed the emotional distance of referring to the detectives by their last names or respective rank. After working so closely the past few days, she and the two BPD detectives had reached a first name basis.
    This event changed everything.
    She had to depersonalize the victim. . . Lori. Her new friend.
    “What about her purse? Keys?”
    Chet – Harper shook his head.
    “Her car?”
    “The Mustang’s not in her parking slot or anywhere on the street.”
    Didn’t make sense that Spears would use Detective Wells’ personal vehicle. Certainly wasn’t his MO. “Give me a few minutes, sergeant.”
    “Yes, ma’am.”
    Jess moved across the room to the closet. Neat, organized. If anything had been disturbed it was impossible to discern. Nothing unexpected in the bathroom other than the evidence that Wells bordered on OCD. Jess smiled, her lips a little stiff, a little shaky. No normal person was this neat.
    Then again, what was normal?
    Jess trailed her fingers down the robe hanging next to the shower. “Be strong, Lori,” she murmured. “I will find you.”
    Tears burned her eyes and she blinked them away.
    Returning to the main room, Jess took one last long look around the apartment before getting out of the way. The evidence techs had arrived and Harper waited near the door. Jess walked over to wait with him. She wished there was something she could say to reassure him, but there wasn’t.
    The truth was, there was very little chance this would end well. Dread and anger constricted her throat. The Player had made his move. There was no going back. No stopping him from taking the next step.
    It should have been me.
    “The carrier is working on tracking Lori’s cell phone,” Burnett said as he joined them at the door, distracting Jess from the painful thoughts warring inside her.
    “I received an update from the officers canvassing the neighbors. So far no one saw Detective Wells leave,” Harper added, his voice reflecting the same devastation his expression carried. He looked from Burnett to Jess, then at the floor as if holding her gaze was too much to ask.
    Harper and all the rest knew. . . this was Jess’s fault.
    Stay on track. Evaluating the scene and making conclusions had to be done from an objective place. You cannot screw this up.
    “It won’t matter if we find an eye witness.” Jess kicked aside the fear and self-pity and considered the anomalies in the apartment’s otherwise neat appearance. “Detective Wells left alone.”
    “What’re you thinking?” Burnett sounded surprised by her conclusion.
    “There was a struggle,” Harper argued, confusion joining the mix of powerful emotions cluttering his face.
    “These aren’t signs of a struggle, gentlemen.” Jess gestured to the overturned glass. “Wells was having breakfast when she received a call that startled her.” She pointed to the stool on the floor. “She knocked that over when she grabbed her purse and keys.” OCD or not, most people dropped their keys on the surface nearest the door they used most often.
    “Whoever called, it rattled her. Scared her even. Detective Wells was in a hurry to get out of here. That’s why she didn’t care if she locked the door or not. That’s also why you haven’t found her cell. She carried it with her when she left in her Mustang.”
    “I called her mother and her sister,” Harper countered, clearly confused. “Neither answered. They’re probably already at work. Her mother is