Killer Karma

just the first sentence, the sound of Holly’s breathing suddenly changed.

Rear vision found her sitting up, blinking sleepily. Damn! What if he told her to go back to sleep. Would she hear him as a subliminal suggestion?

Too late. She stared toward the computer, eyes widening, then slid out of bed and padded over. He moved aside.

“Daddy!”

Razor arrived as fast as if he had ziptripped. “What’s the matter?”

She pointed at the screen.

Razor had left his glasses in the front room. He squinted at the screen. “‘Tell homicide sara’s friend gerald lockhart owns…’” He looked down at Holly. “Do you know how that got there?”

Her forehead furrowed. “Well, when I first woke up I thought I saw Uncle Cole over here.”

Cole saw goosebumps raise on Razor’s neck. Belying the cheerful smile he gave Holly. “How about that. We both dreamed about him.”

Too bad Holly was there. With Razor thinking about him, this had to be an ideal time to make a consciously awake Razor see him.

“Then who turned the computer on?” Holly asked.

Razor kept lying. “Me, probably. I dreamed about using the computer, too, and must have sleep walked.” After peering at the time on the screen, he shut down the computer, then ruffled Holly’s hair. “I don’t think there’s any point in going back to sleep, do you? What say we get dressed and have waffles at Denny’s.”

That gave Cole the urge to go home and watch Sherrie and the kids have breakfast. Reluctantly, he decided against it. He needed to wait for another chance to make Razor see him. So he stick with Razor, riding in the Cavalier’s back seat, while Razor and Holly went first to Denny’s and then on to Holly’s school.

Cheerful Daddy Razor vanished as soon as the car pulled away from the school. He frowned. Every few breaths he took a deeper one, or grimaced. He drummed on the steering wheel. He ran a hand back through his hair and fiddled with his tie as though it were choking him.

Cole slid through to the front seat. “I hope you’re trying to think how that message could have gotten on the computer. The answer’s easy if you’ll just accept that Holly did see me there. I know I claimed my oh-dark-hundred visit was a dream, but I lied. I was really there. That was a genuine conversation. Hey, amigo!” He waved a hand in front of Razor’s eyes. “Give me some reaction!”

Razor stared fixedly ahead.

Cole slouched in disgust. “You’re one hard-headed bastard. I think you can see and hear me, just like you did last night, but the idea’s so crazy, your brain is pretending I don’t exist.”

Razor had no reaction to that, either. Probably how he would be reacting in Razor’s place, Cole had to admit.

“But I am here. Somehow I have to make you recognize that.” The sooner the better.

Following Razor into Homicide a short time later, Cole had no trouble seeing who had his case. Across the room, Norman Leach handed papers to Rafael Hamada, who sat with a hip propped on the edge of his desk. After a glance through the pages, Hamada passed them over to Charlie Dennis, sitting at his desk.

Razor threaded his way between desks their direction. Cole climbed virtual steps and trotted across the room above the desks.

Dennis wore half glasses to read the papers, but laid both glasses and papers on his desk as Cole arrived above him, then sat back watching Hamada and Leach. Dennis had seniority, but Hamada likely had the lead in the investigation. After twenty-three years in Homicide, Dennis was burned out and just marking time until retirement. He looked it, with slacks a bad match for the sport coat draped over the back of his chair and his tie, loosened even this early in the morning, as wrinkled as a Goodwill rescue.

Looking down, Cole recognized the page under the glasses as a phone record. Sara’s. It included his cell number…two calls to it at 19:04 and 19:29, one received from it at 19:39.

Sweet. Maybe her latest calls could point the direction she had gone. He scanned the list…and started in surprise. At 23:03, the next entry, she called the Flaxx Enterprises number! Why call there?

“Well now…what brings Night Investigations here at this time of day?”

He looked up to find Hamada quirking a brow at Razor. While Hamada’s six-five height surprised people who expected Japanese to be small, no one expected that Texas drawl.

“He and Dunavan are buddies,” Leach said. His mustache twitched. “How’s the fake bullet hole business these days?”

Behind his glasses, Razor went wide-eyed. “You still think Cole and I did that? Why couldn’t it have been the joker who kept putting fake spiders in my locker and patrol unit and on the sun visor in my car, where they’d fall in my lap?”

Maybe messages that matched the one at home would get through to Razor. Cole looked around for a idle computer. Homicide’s was already in use. Neil Galentree had a laptop, though…and the way he kept pausing to leaf through file folders and his notebook made Cole hope he might have to leave in search of missing information. Cole headed for Galentree’s desk. At the same time, he continued watching and listening behind him.

Leach said, “I hope you’re here just to ask how the investigation is going, not thinking of trying to get involved in it.”

Cole leaned down to Galentree’s ear. “Don’t you have to go look through files or take a leak or something?”

Razor gave Leach a bland smile. “You mean you’re not interested in information I might have on the Benay woman?”

Hamada sat up straighter. “I’d like to hear it…if you boys can finish the pissing contest some other time.”

Razor hesitated.

“Go on,” Cole called. “Even if you had only dreamed the information, you can see it fits together.”

Frowning at a page in his notebook, Galentree stood. Hope rose in Cole…only to evaporate as Galentree dropped back into his chair and picked up his phone. He punched in a number Cole recognized as the crime lab’s.

Razor took a breath. “This is an educated guess, but…I think Benay is an informant of Cole’s who works for Flaxx Enterprises. I know he had an informant he expected to help him crack a big case. And the case he’s been obsessed with is the Flaxx Enterprises burglaries.”

Cole smiled. Nice logic chain.

“An informant.” The twitch of Leach’s mustache looked as skeptical as his voice sounded. “And you’re just now mentioning it?”

Razor shrugged. “Cole never gave me a name or specified it related to Flaxx. The connections didn’t hit me until last night.”

Hamada glanced over at Dennis. “Look up the Flaxx number. See if it matches anything on Benay’s phone records.”

Galentree hung up the phone and pushed back from his desk. “Andy, I’m going to the crime lab. They have our gun ready to test fire.”

At the next desk, Willner nodded.

Cole cheered silently. Finally. “Go, go. Take your time about coming back.” As soon as Galentree turned his back, Cole sat down on a virtual chair and went to work, typing letter by laborious letter.

Over at Hamada’s desk, Leach remained looking skeptical. “Why would Dunavan kill an informant?”

“I don’t think he did. Maybe that’s his blood in the car.”

Leach shook his head. “It’s on the passenger side.”

“I know Cole,” Razor said evenly. “If he were alive, no matter what he’d done, by this time he’d have contacted his wife or me, if only to explain himself.”

Even dead, I’m trying to do that.

“Tex. There’s a match.” Dennis tapped the phone record. “This eleven o’clock call.”

Hamada’s brows went up. “She called there at night?” He turned toward Razor, expression going thoughtful.