Ness frowned as she watched him go up the stairs. Now what? I have no idea what I’m doing! Ness spent the next several hours going over the folder with all of the information on the trio. After she’d studied all of the details, she noticed that all of them were definitely creatures of habit, and that could work to her advantage. Additionally, Ness noticed that they were heavy drinkers which could make them easier targets when the opportunity arose.
At lunchtime, Ness closed the folder and walked into the kitchen. Her stomach grumbled at her. She opened the fridge and saw there was a box of untouched pizza, so Ness helped herself to a couple of slices and walked back to the living room. If we’re going after Travis tonight, then we won’t be back until morning, Ness thought and pulled out her phone. She dialed Lindsay’s number.
“Hey, Ness,” Lindsay answered.
“Hey, Lindsay. I won’t be back tonight—I’ve met up with an old friend from college, and she’s begged me to stay with her and catch up a bit.”
“No problem. Have fun, Ness,” Lindsay said as she hung up.
At least that’s taken care of, Ness looked out toward the road through the window. She could have sworn that she heard Wyatt’s truck start up and leave.
12
Wyatt stood at his bedroom window that overlooked the driveway and saw Ness pull out. Wyatt was unable to sleep after the call that he received from Wilcox the night before, and he knew he was going to need to go to Chicago today to see Wilcox in person. The problem was, he felt conflicted about what he was going to tell Lindsay. He turned and watched her sleep soundly. It was amazing that she was still able to look perfect after an entire night’s sleep. He admired her for a few moments and watched how her hair fell gently over the side of the pillow. Her lips were slightly apart as she breathed quietly. Wyatt walked up to her and kissed her gently on the cheek. She stirred slightly and opened her eyes to look at him.
“Honey, I’m going to need to go into work today. Something happened last night, and some of the guys from Chicago need my assistance,” he said, not giving too much detail, but also not being untruthful.
“On a Sunday?” Lindsay asked sitting up. “It’s an important case,” Wyatt reassured her.
Lindsay looked slightly disappointed but nodded her approval without any form of resistance.
“Thank you, honey. I’ll be home later,” Wyatt leaned forward and kissed her.
He didn’t care about her morning breath. This was a woman that always put him and his career above her personal needs, and he knew that there was no way that he deserved her. “I love you,” he whispered. “I love you, too. Be safe, and hurry back,” Lindsay said as she laid back down on her pillow and smiled at Wyatt as he left for the front door.
Wyatt pulled in at the 4th District in South Chicago a little before 8:00 A.M., and he walked inside. He had been in the building before, and many of the officers were familiar with him. However, he didn't recognize the sergeant sitting behind her desk.
“Good morning, Sergeant,” Wyatt said formally.
“What can I do for you?” She asked with a prickly tone in her voice.
“I’m Wyatt Elliott. I’m here to see Robert Wilcox: he’s expecting me.”
The desk sergeant scrutinized him for a few seconds and got up from her seat after taking a large sip of her coffee. “Come with me,” she walked hastily down the hall and toward an electronically locked gate. She typed in a code on the keypad, and the gate buzzed open. “The Major Crimes Unit is run by a bunch of criminals, and that’s why we keep them locked up.”
Wyatt raised his eyebrow at her. “That was a joke,” she said in a monotone voice and with a completely deadpan face. “Ha ha,” she added at the end without smiling. “You’ll find Wilcox through the door over there,” she pointed ahead.
“Thank you, Sergeant.”
“Mm-hmm,” she turned and walked back down the corridor.
Wyatt walked toward the door and popped his head inside. He could see Robert Wilcox sitting at his desk with his hair disheveled and three empty coffee cups in the trash can next to his desk. “You get any sleep last night, Robert?” Wilcox smiled at Wyatt as he approached his desk.
“What’s that?” he laughed. Wilcox stood up and shook Wyatt’s hand. “I must say, your desk sergeant is absolutely delightful,” Wyatt said facetiously. Wilcox laughed, “You have no idea.”
“So, what have you got?” Wyatt asked. “Grab a seat,” Wilcox said, turning the file around so Wyatt could see all of the reports and pictures.
“Henry Martin’s vehicle was found at the bottom of a cliff at Devil’s Head last night. A couple of hikers were setting up camp when they stumbled across the vehicle, and they called it in. It took some time for the search and rescue teams to get down there but once they did, they found this,” Wilcox pulled out a picture of Martin’s mangled body. “It looks like some wildlife found him, but what concerns me is the state of his face. Those aren’t animal bites, and the glass fragments in the vehicle don’t account for an injury of this nature.”
“Do you think it was staged?” Wyatt said without looking up from the pictures.
“It could be. It is starting to look that way. His body also seemed strange when they pulled it out,” Wilcox took his jacket off and hung
