The Rookie Club: Dead Center Part 27

A fully-staffed lab could spend weeks on a single case. And from the look of it, the two victims had killed each other. Hailey had found, more often than not, if it looked like a duck and walked like a duck...

Still, she knew better than to be rash. In a case like this, Hailey had asked CSU to run the prints for known felons. Though it was time-consuming, the process was easy enough. Technology had come a long way and prints could be scanned and compared with both California's justice system records as well as NCIC, the National Criminal Information Center, which the FBI maintained.

"No felony matches?"

Sydney shook her head. "No, but we've got a dozen partials that couldn't be matched."

"But it's like a bus-you've got kids in and out of there all the time."

Sydney nodded. "I've got some adult prints, too, but nothing comes up."

"And the blood?" The initial process with blood was to take samples to identify the blood types of the victims and rule out a third party.

"AB and O, both positive. Victims' types."

"And in the places you'd expect them?"

"The pattern of blood splatter looks consistent with the theory that they killed each other."

"And they were known for being aggressive," Hailey added. "There had been two instances of domestic disturbance in the past."

Sydney nodded.

"What about toxicology?"

"Won't be back for weeks. The Unit's way too backed up on more pressing cases."

Hailey knew there were convicts awaiting lab results before going to trial-men and women who sat behind bars while the labs scurried to prove whether or not they were really guilty of anything. "Then we've got to close it. The Dennigs murdered each other."

Sydney gathered her notes, started to stack them for Hailey to take with her. Hailey was thankful the case was over.

She'd probably spent fifty work-hours on it, enlisted the help of at least three other cops to make calls and visits to friends, neighbors, and the kids' school. The case should have been closed at that.

But because of the nature of the victims-that is, rich and high profile-the chief had pushed the lab to look through the rest of the evidence for anything else.

"How long did it set you guys back?"

Sydney shrugged. "Day and a half, maybe a little more."

Even in a case where they didn't have the a.s.sailant, CSU could test only a small sample of the evidence brought in-five percent was aggressive. It was just too much. Things were scanned with black lights for traces of blood, and then particular spots were tested. But the funds and time to test everything weren't available. "I'm glad to put it behind us."

Sydney handed the papers to Hailey, frowned.

"What's up?" Hailey asked.

"Seemed too simple, you know?"

Hailey paused, thinking maybe it was. But she knew better than to dismiss another cop's gut. "Can you think of something we should look at again?"

Sydney hesitated, shook her head. "Not a thing."

"I know what you mean. With the pressure from the chief, it would have felt better to find something more."

Sydney looked up. "But that's how it goes, you know? That's annoying, but it's not what's bothering me."

"What's bothering you?"

Sydney was quiet a moment. "I guess the fact that they had kids. Why the h.e.l.l would you leave your kids without a parent?"

Hailey couldn't answer that one. The simple truth was emotion often got the best of people.

Sydney shook her head.

Hailey couldn't find anything to say, at least nothing rea.s.suring. "If anything else comes up, call me. I'll be writing it up for a few days."

Hailey left the building with none of the sense of triumph she often had when they'd closed a case. She only hoped she'd get it by closing Natasha's case.

Back at the Hall, Hailey rode to the top floor and wound around the busy corridors until she reached the stairwell. Then she walked down step-by-step, her black flats echoing on the cold concrete. In a decade of coming in and out of this building, the stairwells had always been the quietest spot. People were just lazy, herself included. Somehow, though, she'd thought the walk might clear her head. Unfortunately, it didn't work.

She arrived at the fifth floor and peered down the stairs that led back to her own floor. But she knew she had to do it now, get it over with. Bruce Daniels-the name brought on a wave filled with so many warring emotions, it was impossible to sort them all. Today, frustration might have won out.

Walking toward IA wasn't something any cop liked to do and Hailey was no exception. Even walking down the hall, people seemed to give the door a wide birth as if it were surrounded by an invisible fence that shocked anyone who got too close.

With the list IA had put together, Daniels was her best bet to get this investigation moving. She knew there were absences on that list.

She thought about the promise she'd made to G.o.d, the one where she'd never see Daniels again if Mackenzie was all right. Maybe now was the time to end things anyway. She hesitated at the department door.

Unlike most cops, she didn't have anything specific against IA. She thought a good portion of the bad rap they took wasn't fair. They did a job and Hailey had seen enough bad cop behavior-like Scott Scanlan's-to know that there had to be a system in place to police the police.

She also knew there were some cops who lived to persecute others. Some cops pegged the people in IA as the kids who had been bullied and picked on in school. As children, they'd had thick gla.s.ses or red hair, were chubby boys or girls. They didn't blend the way Hailey had, just barely staying on the fringe of normalcy. And so they'd decided to bully the ultimate bullies. Those were the ones they thought went to IA. She knew that was sometimes true, too.

She set her shoulders back, entered the office. She told the secretary that she needed a few minutes with Bruce Daniels if he was available.

The secretary told her to go on in.

When she reached Buck's half-open door, she knocked gently.

He looked up, his eyes barely widening in surprise. She saw a smile hover just beneath the firm lips. "Inspector Wyatt."

She didn't enter. "Hi. I've got a couple of questions on the list you made, if you have a few minutes."

They both spoke in work tones, full volume as though announcing to the department that they had nothing to hide.

He nodded to the seat across from him and she considered whether or not she wanted to sit, then decided she did.

Buck stood then and closed the door before making his way back to his own chair. She didn't watch him move. It would make staying away more difficult.

She studied pictures and diplomas she'd seen a half-dozen times. When he was settled back behind his desk, he rested his hands on top of some papers and gave her a little nod like a high school princ.i.p.al. "How are you feeling?"

She nodded. "Okay."

"You talked to Vail about it?"

"Had to."

"I agree." He rubbed his face, then glanced at her. "I was scared to death," he whispered. "I don't know what I would have done."

She shook her head. "I'm fine."

"I should've come to check on you sooner. I could've stopped him-"

She bit into her lip. Closed her eyes. "Yes, you should've." She looked up at him, his eyes wide. "Christ, I was almost-" She shook her head. "It wasn't your fault. I just can't-" She waved her hand, the words caught in her throat. "I can't talk about it now."

"What did you tell John?"

She cleared her throat, studied her hands. "I made the Scanlan thing seem like more of a wrestle. Mostly, though, it hasn't come up."

"But you have bruises on your ribs, don't you?"

She shrugged, glanced up. "It was a busy weekend with Mackenzie's attack. I've been really tired."

He nodded, understanding. "Will you have time this week?"

She lowered her gaze. "I can't. Not until this is over."

He didn't respond.

"Someone saw us. Someone knows."

He nodded.

"I actually came about the case."

He straightened. "Sure."

"I need to go back, understand some things."

He sat back, slightly rigid. "Okay."

"You were the first one out at the murder scene that morning."

He nodded.

"Why didn't you stay? She's a cop. Why wouldn't IA be involved?"

He glanced at the door behind her, paused.

"You were with her," she said quietly as though by speaking the words in a low tone she could soften the blow they would have if they weren't true. But they were. She knew it as soon as they were out.

"It was a long time ago."

She felt tired then. A long time ago. "How long ago?" She drew out a notebook and flipped it open to have something to look at. Then she could avoid him, avoid the pit in her gut. They'd been together eight months. She wanted to hear him say that it had been more than eight months ago. Only she suspected it wasn't.

"Early summer."

Her heart banged against her ribs. "This summer?"

He nodded. "June."

She wrote down the word June and underlined it. They'd been together then. He'd cheated on her. G.o.dd.a.m.n it. She looked up at him, shook her head. Her hands trembled. Anger rocked in her chest, fighting to break loose. She clenched her eyes, thought about how she'd almost died in his lobby. "You b.a.s.t.a.r.d," she whispered. She pushed each word from her lips as though firing a gun.

Buck stood.

She pointed at his chair.

He sat, defeated. "It happened while you and John were up in Tahoe with the girls."

She struggled not to scream, told herself she had no right to be angry. She could not have a lover and feel any sort of betrayal when he took one. And yet she did.

"Hailey-"

She shook her head. She wasn't going there. Not here, not now. d.a.m.n, she wished they were somewhere private right now so she could yell at him. She held her hands together, took a breath. She let the fury burn through her in hopes it would smother itself, but it only burned fiercer. She stood, turned and paced.

"Hailey."

She shot her palm out, leaned across his desk. "Don't you dare," she seethed.

She forced herself to sit, focused on what she needed from him for the case. She focused on this one thing. She could do this. "I'm the investigator on a murder case," she said, keeping her voice low and even. "I need to know how long it lasted."

He came around the desk, sat in the chair beside her. "Can we talk about this somewhere else? Can we meet later?"

"I don't think so." She felt the words slip between her teeth, laced with anger. She looked up at him, narrowed her gaze, tried to hold herself cold. "I don't think we'll be meeting anymore."

He took her hand. "Please. It doesn't have to be my place. Just anywhere other than here."

She was desperate to scream at him, to vent the anger. But couldn't. Not now. Her thoughts veered back to Natasha. She pulled her hand away. G.o.d, Natasha. Buck was with Natasha, too. Christ, was everyone? She stood up, took two steps toward the door. She wanted to get the h.e.l.l out of there, told herself it was a good idea. She would end it. There was always a piece of her that wanted to stop, to come out of the shadows where she was living. Now she could. Then why the h.e.l.l did she feel such a loss? Christ. "Please just answer the question."

He, too, stood and crossed back behind the desk. "It started in June, lasted until the weekend of July Fourth. Ended that night."

"With fireworks, I hope."

He didn't respond. Shrugged. He felt her anger, she knew. He wasn't used to it. She didn't explode like this. She was the controlled one. d.a.m.n him for doing this to her. "Why were you there that day?"

He paused. "Marshall knew about us. A few people did. It's one of the reasons it ended. An IA officer and someone with her reputation-"

She nodded, couldn't look at him.