Follow the Leader

Part IX

I didn’t sleep very well that night. I knew I wouldn’t.

I’d gotten through the events of the previous days on sheer will alone; my mind wrapped in some sort of fuzzy protective layering that let me function without really feeling or taking in the events around me. Now, many hours later, that insulation against what I’d gone through was wearing thin. The acute memory I’d been alternately cursed and blessed with through my life was once again operating at full force and I didn’t have the emotional exhaustion of the previous night to force it to rest. Every time I relaxed enough to drift off to sleep, my brain walked me through those horrible minutes I’d waited in the hallway anxiously debating whether or not to enter my bedroom the other morning. A second by second replay of the call I’d made for back-up, the fear and distress I’d felt as I cleared the room and the final moment of realizing that there was nothing I could do to help ‘Gil’. The image of his body, bloody and damaged beyond recognition, forced me from that dream state twice in heart-pounding fear, before I finally gave up on the notion of sleeping all together and crept from the bed. The only silver lining in the whole matter is that I hadn’t woken up screaming and that Gil slept on, totally unaware of my inner turmoil.

I slipped silently into a chair; one leg bent to hug against my chest, my mind searching for a semblance of inner peace but the minute I closed my eyes I knew I had to search elsewhere. There was no escape to be had inside me. Weary as I was I let my gaze drift back to Gil. I watched him sleep; my heart heavy with anxiety, my gaze focused on the rise and fall of his chest…the shape of his mouth and nose…the brush of his lashes against the pale of his cheeks. Some of the anxiety seeped away as my senses became wrapped up in the simple study. Some part of me realized I was trying to memorize his features; his expressions; the evidence of his existence. The reality of his breathing battled the nightmare of his ‘death’ and I soaked it all in, absorbing every detail, every minor movement until I was able to let go of the tension and set my mind free to wander where it wanted to go. Without conscious effort, I started replaying the conversation Gil and I had had about his resignation letter and the connections between his cases.

The girl’s face haunted me. Not the usual sort of throbbing image I was used to dealing with relating to unsolved cases…more throbbing…begging for attention. I’d seen her somewhere before…but where? Where? I didn’t think it was in another file. For some reason I had the feeling wherever I’d seen her wasn’t exactly work-related. No. No, it had been somewhere more social. And recently too, but I didn’t remember being introduced to her. Her name would have triggered some kind of response in my brain, wouldn’t it? No. It was her face that had grabbed me originally; her file picture because I’d seen that expression before. Somewhere. I think I remember her being dressed up but Gil and I hadn’t been anyplace formal recently so that didn’t fit. We’d had the gang over a couple of weeks ago for a barbeque but that grouping was comprised of people from our shift and their significant others so that didn’t fit either. Where the hell had I seen her?

I started retracing my steps. Where might I have seen her? I’d been to work, of course. The dog sitters’. The grocery store. The mall. The deli down the street. Where else had I been recently?

I burrowed deeper in my tucked position. Wait, no, this would have been a few weeks ago, right? The girl’s been missing for a while now. Only to show up dead in my bedroom. Okay, wait. That train of thought isn’t going to help anything and it’s not likely I saw her since McKeen gave Gil the file. I shook my head irritably, more than certain now that I had seen her before but frustrated that I couldn’t place her.

Gil mumbled something and rolled onto his side, bunching his pillow tighter under his neck. The sudden shift in position drew my attention back to his form. He was restless too. The shadow of movement behind his eyelids told me he dreamed vividly; the frown on his face told me those dreams were not pleasant.

I tried to recapture my focus. Where was I? Oh. Right. McKeen had given Gil the file. Asked him to look into it. Specifically wanted Gil. Why? To be thorough? To be…oh my god.

The connection I’d been so desperate to make finally clicked and I growled angrily under my breath. Yes, the anger was back, but this time it was primarily self-directed. There was a possibility that all of this could have been avoided if I’d done my job right. Self disgust had the bile rising in my throat again and it was all I could do to beat it back.

“You’re staring at me again.” Gil’s voice though quiet and rough with sleep gave me a start.

“Sorry. I tried not to wake you.” My voice sounded as coarse as his.

He tossed the covers back and sat up on the edge of the bed. “Don’t be.” A shudder snaked across his skin confirming the fact that his dreams had been every bit as unpleasant as I’d imagined them. “Meditating?”

“No. Processing.”

“I see. Anything in particular.”

I nodded. “Just trying to sort out fact from fiction.”

He reached for his watch and checked the time. “A little heavy at this late hour, Sar.”

“I know but I’m not sure I had much in the way of choice.”

He stared at me hard for a moment and then nodded decisively. “I know that look. Might as well spill it, Sar. Neither one of us will get any rest until you do.”

I wasn’t awake enough to be diplomatic so I just dove right in. “There is the distinct possibility that I’m at fault for the scene I walked in on the other morning.”

Gil snorted. “Yeah? And I’m the Queen of England.”

His tone ruffled my fur. “This isn’t funny, Your Majesty!”

He raised an eyebrow at my brisk tone. “I know, but saying that you’re responsible in any way for it is.”

“You might want to let me finish before you make a statement like that, laughing boy.”

He rolled his eyes at me before flopping back to the mattress. “Fine. I’m patient. Let’s hear it.”

Through gritted teeth I said, “I thought I was up to speed on your case before I went into interviews but looking back on it now, I realize that I wasn’t.”

He turned his head in my direction. “I really…really find that hard to believe.”

“Why?”

He ignored my question and asked instead, “Did you read the file?”

“Yes.”

“Look through the evidence log?”

“Yes.”

“Read Archie’s report?”

“You know I did. I told you that this afternoon.”

“Then you were as prepared for those interviews as anyone could expect.”

I huffed out a breath and got up to pace. “No, I wasn’t.”

He sat up again. “And why do you say that?”

“Because I missed something dammit! I missed a connection that I know I would have seen had I paid more attention to the files.”

He combed his fingers through his hair and then braced his elbows on his knees. With fingers linked beneath his chin he said, “Sara, you’re not looking at this the right way. Obviously, you figured out something important and I’m thrilled but…honey, you keep saying ‘files’. I hadn’t linked the two files until a few days ago. Hadn’t even realized that there might be a connection between them until I happened to be working them back to back and even then…well, it was a fluke that I linked them at all.”

I frowned, my arms folding defensively. “I forgot about that. Okay. Maybe that does make a difference.”

He shrugged. “Maybe. I won’t know for sure until you tell me what got you so fired up in the first place.”

“Alright. I’ll have to lead you into this a bit.”

“Just go where you need me to go.”

“I was thinking about the two files and how you’re fairly certain that they are connected but don’t have enough proof to make an official link.”

“Go on.”

“Normally, knowing your nature, you would have dismissed the possibility…no, that’s not quite right…um…you would have ignored the possible connection temporarily until you came across hard evidence that linked the two files, right?”

“Yes, that’s true but-“

I held up a hand, asking silently to be heard out. “However, between the circumstantial evidence, the corpses that were dumped in out bedroom and your instincts, you’ve decided to go outside the norm and look at those cases as a unit.”

He nodded slowly. “Again, yes. It is unusual for me to work from this angle but something just feels…right…about it.”

“Agreed. This isn’t a criticism. I’m merely laying down the breadcrumb trail. “All I’m saying is that you’re working this case differently…and that maybe that difference took someone by surprise. That maybe they had counted on you working one way and are not at all happy with your sudden departure from your standard procedure.”

Gil’s mouth twisted. “I’m that predictable?”

“Truth?”

“Always.”

“When it comes to evidence processing and scientific method, you’re more anal than Ecklie when he’s in his administration mode.”

He winced. “Low blow.”

“No. Just being honest. It’s one of the reasons we’re one of the top labs in the country. We don’t compromise. You keep us all on our toes and we need that. You may have absolutely no concept of how to play office politics but you’re a staunch defender of due process and are very exacting by anyone’s standards.”

“As we’ve found, there’s little room for error in this body of work. Grey areas are often grounds for dismissal in court. We can’t afford to guess.”

“And yet, when you began to link these cases you did. You did exactly that. Plus…hate to tell you this but you also bent to pressure, something you rarely do. You said you weren’t ready to go to interviews so soon but you went anyway, hoping for a break. Again, not something we’re used to seeing you do. You’re a chess player and you run your shift much the same way you play chess…always looking three moves ahead…never losing sight of the big picture.”

“So if I’m following what you’re saying, you think I was being set up to work one way but upset the apple cart completely, thus making myself…well, both of us…a target.”

I nodded. “You said McKeen asked you to look into the file. You specifically.”

“Yes.”

“No reason? No guidelines?”

“No, and what I took from that was that he didn’t want to influence my findings in anyway.”

“Makes sense. That’s the way that most of us prefer to work especially on cases in which we’re re-examining data collected by other investigators. You probably didn’t think much of it.”

“No, not at the time though I certainly had second thoughts afterwards. So you think I was being used by McKeen?”

“I’m sure of it. The only thing I’m not sure about are his motives. Was he really hoping to find her for her sake or his own?”

“I take it you have a theory?”

“Possibly. Maybe something a little better. I’ve seen her before.”

“Excuse me?”

“The girl. Natalie Freisen. You have too but I’m not sure you really took notice of her.”

“And when was this?”

“Mayor’s dinner. About three months ago.” I watched as he tried to think back to that date and then shook his head, not able to place her. He’d had a lot going on that evening so it’s likely he didn’t remember half the people he spoke to that evening. “Try this,” I suggested, leaning in closer. “She was…a late arrival. Came in after the chicken was served. Wearing a blue strapless something or other escorted by a young man that now that I think about it bore a striking resemblance to McKeen…only about twenty years younger. And speaking of McKeen, I’d have to say that not only was he surprised at their entrance but also a little pissed off about it too.”

The moment Gil made the connection his eyes flew sharply to mine. “Wait. I’ve got it now. That was the night that the under-sheriff kept downing whiskey sours at the head table, right? He barely said a word after they arrived. Very sullen and edgy.” There was another head shake, followed quickly by a rueful grin. “How in the hell do you do it? I would never have recalled that on my own. Not in a million years. The meeting was far too brief and I doubt I would have been able to remember it at all if you hadn’t led me to it. Your memory just…astounds me.”

I waved off his comment, embarrassed by his praise. “Yeah, once in a while it proves it can do more for me than give me nightmares. But in this case, it’s not quite as miraculous as you seem to think. I saw her a second time in the bathroom later on that evening and that time she made a deeper impression."

"Did you speak to her?"

I sighed. "No, she was too busy crying."

"Do you know why?"

"No. When she saw me she did a quick repair job on her make-up and bolted. Things like that are always happening at events like those so I didn't think much of it at the time.”

“Really?”

“Yes. There’s always someone crying in the restroom over something stupid. I would have asked if there was anything I could do for her but she was gone too quickly. Like I said, didn’t really bother me at the time. Now, however, I'm very curious about what was going on that night."

"Yes, I am too. Do you know who her escort was?"

I shook my head. "Not for certain but I have a guess. McKeen's son?"

"You got it. He’s attended a number of those dinners since his dad became the under-sheriff."

“Why? Is he in law enforcement too?”

“No. His type doesn’t like to get his hands dirty. He’s in politics. Currently, he’s an alderman. Has his eye on the mayor’s chair in the next election three years down the road.”

“How do you know so much about him?”

“His father is awfully proud of his only son and I’ve had to sit through many dinners with him as the topic of after chicken conversation. Jeff McKeen, Jr or JR as he’s known in most circles is considered a pretty hot up and comer.”

A chill raced up my spine. “I don’t know about you but I get nervous when people start mixing politics, families, sex and murder together. Doesn’t sit well at all with me.”

“I know what you mean.” He rolled his shoulders back and rubbed his eyes tiredly. “Are you – do you think you’ll get any more sleep tonight.”

“Not a chance.”

“Me either. Why don’t we head into the lab…do a little research?”

“I was hoping you’d say that but I thought you didn’t want anyone thinking you were still working on this case.”

He grimaced. “Yes, you’re right. It would defeat the purpose of resigning, wouldn’t it?”

“A little.”

“Well, you still work there and I haven’t cleaned out my desk yet. We’ll let that stand as the excuse. I drove you into work because I’m still edgy about everything that has happened and I needed to gather my essentials from my office.”

I was already on my feet. “That works for me. Are we still keeping this place private?”

He was pulling on a sweater and grabbing his keys when he answered me. “The lodge? Yes. Just tell anyone who asks that we’re staying with a friend and we’re trying to keep it private to avoid any more…unpleasantness.”

“As a euphemism for murder, ‘unpleasantness’ really sucks, Gil.”

“Sara, when it comes to murder, I don’t know that there are any good euphemisms.”