“Looks like we had a quiet night.”
“A few speeding tickets, but I should warn you that you do have a visitor in your office,” Isabelle said quietly.
He leaned over the desk and glanced through the open door. Fuck.
“Thanks, Isabelle. If anyone calls, take a number, and I’ll get back to them as soon as possible. Have we done a shift change?”
She nodded. “Jenna just replaced Bo.”
“Good to know. Interrupt if there are any emergencies.” He made his way into his office, shutting the door behind him. “What are you doing here, Callie?” He didn’t bother with the formalities as he set his extra-large travel mug on his desk along with his breakfast sandwich that he’d made at home. What an awesome little kitchen appliance. He could live on egg sandwiches.
“You haven’t changed, and I see you’re still using my gift,” she said.
“Actually, I tossed yours through the window of my old pickup and broke it. I bought a new one.”
“You like hurting me, don’t you?”
He laughed. “That’s rich coming from you. Seriously, Callie, the title for your book is a slap in the face.”
“It’s not the title I want, and I’m still fighting with the publisher.”
“Oh, really. And what do you think the name of the book should be?”
“The Trinket Killer, Still at Large.”
“That’s a shitty title,” he mumbled. Not that he liked the other much better, but the working title would sell books. That one people wouldn’t even use the paperback cover to wipe their ass with. “What about The Trinket Killer, And How He Got Away With It.”
“That’s actually not bad. I’ll run it by the publisher.” She tucked her long blond hair behind her ears. It had to have grown a good two inches since the last time he’d seen her. Her dark-brown eyes had lost a bit of their sparkle, but they still had the same determination etched in the rich color.
“I was kidding. I’d prefer you not publish that rubbish at all. I’m sure the Seattle Police Department is giving you some blowback.”
She nodded. “There are some things they’ve forced me to take out, but this is a complicated case, and now that I’ve had a little time and space from it, I realize how much we both didn’t see things.”
“I don’t need to be reminded of that,” he said. “Now, seriously, why are you here?”
She held up her pad of paper and pen. “First, I want to interview you for the book. And second, I want you to investigate the Trinket Killer with me again.”
“Well, fuck. And here I thought you might be here to apologize for humiliating me in front of my family, your family, our friends. Hell, the fucking world when you tossed the engagement ring I bought you in my face and called me a murderer on national—”
She held up her hand. “I’m apologizing now.”
“I’m going to make this real easy for you. I have no comment on the Trinket Killer or my involvement in it. And if you want help, go to cold cases. I’m sure someone there has been assigned the case, and I’m sure they’d love some help, though you do have quite the reputation for being a bitch.”
She tilted her head and pursed her lips. “No thanks to you.”
“Oh, for fuck’s sake. We could go on like this forever,” he said.
She laughed. “We sure did hurt each other, didn’t we?”
He leaned back in his chair and clasped his hands behind his head. “That we did, but it’s the past, and it’s time to let it stay there and move forward.”
“Now you sound like Kara. She’s doesn’t even want to stay on as my researcher for any other true crime books or pieces I do for the network.”
He dropped his hands to the desk. “That’s shocking. She was more passionate about the Trinket Killer in the beginning than you were.”
“Her wife was the first victim,” Callie said. “She made it her life work, but now she’s found love again and wants to put this behind her. That said, I often wonder if the case hadn’t gone so cold would she be singing a different tune.”
He’d always liked Kara. She stayed in the background, never inserting herself into the thick of the investigation, and when she had an opinion about something, the way she presented it was always professional and in a way that never stepped on anyone’s toes.
But she always took Callie’s side in any argument, and even more so the moment she found out Callie and Jag were a couple. He thought Kara believed Callie could do better.
Perhaps she could.
“Or maybe you used her to the point she has nothing left to give.”
“Wow. You just want to keep on hurting me, don’t you?”
“Sorry,” he said. “Old habits die hard. But have you ever thought that Stephanie wasn’t killed by the Trinket Killer, but a copycat, who also killed Adam?” It was a weak theory but one that had legs.
When Adam had been released from county lockup, he’d disappeared. On the same day, a male body had been found. A few days later, the same day that Stephanie was killed, the male body turned out to be Adam.
Too many coincidences and in his line of work, those didn’t exist.
However, that theory was a stretch, and he knew it.
“Of course, I’ve thought about it,” Callie said. “Stephanie had called me a half dozen times the night she was murdered, but you and I were in the middle of getting engaged, so I ignored her calls. Her last message was that she had something important that she had to tell me and you. She sounded desperate and scared.”
“I know. I listened to the message a few times. Something definitely had her spooked, and the fact she wanted me there has always made me wonder what upset her.”
“Or what she knew. She was desperate to talk to me, but I blew her off.” Callie dabbed the corner of her right eye with her shirt, which showed off a little bit of
