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“What makes you assume that?” Laura asked.

“You got really interested when I said he was interested in time,” the supervisor pointed out, almost shyly. Gingerly. “But… I don’t think he’s got anything to do with that. Earl’s a lovely guy, really. He took this job instead of retiring. He just wants to help people.”

The mention of his age wasn’t necessarily promising, but then again, it wasn’t the end of the lead either. If they stayed in shape, Laura knew there were sixty- and even seventy-year-olds out there who were stronger than she was. “At any rate, I’d really like to talk to him and see that journal, just to rule him out of our investigation,” Laura said. She kept her tone soothing, as though she believed what the supervisor was saying completely. It was the best way to ensure compliance. “If he’s as good a guy as you say he is, then I’m sure it’s nothing to worry about. And I’d love his help in shedding some further light on the case, given that he was the dispatcher on duty at a number of important moments that could really give us some good clues.”

“Okay,” the supervisor said, wringing her hands for a moment. Then she got up, hesitantly, but at least she was doing it. “I’ll go and fetch it for you now.”

Laura checked her cell phone while the woman was out of the room, seeing if she had any messages. She didn’t. She sighed to herself, wondering if Nate was sulking. Maybe he’d gone to call Chief Rondelle and get her yanked off the case or something. If so, it was more important than ever that she work fast on this.

Laura got up and left the quiet room, stepping back out into the reception area. The supervisor appeared from the dispatch room almost immediately afterwards, holding a journal and a scrap of paper.

“I wrote down his address for you,” she said, still holding both items firmly in her own hands, close to her chest. “I think he should be at home today. He didn’t say anything about having plans.”

“Thank you,” Laura said, then held out her hand pointedly when the supervisor still didn’t make a move.

At last, she handed over both the journal and the address, biting her lip as she did so.

Laura turned to leave the moment she had both of them in her grasp. “I’ll let you know if we need anything further,” she said over her shoulder, walking right out to the parking lot. It felt like time was of the essence. There was every chance that nervous supervisor would call Earl and warn him that the FBI were coming. There was no telling what he would be able to hide or prepare if he was given enough of a chance.

But even so, as Laura stepped out into the parking lot, she stopped dead.

Nate was there, standing by the car.

She cleared her throat, trying to pretend that she hadn’t really come to a complete halt in surprise as she walked over to him. His hands were in his pockets, but he took them out and straightened as he saw her.

“I got your message,” he said, his voice kind of strangely shy, like he wasn’t sure how she would react to him being there.

“I’ve got a new lead,” Laura told him. “Address of a potential suspect. A dispatcher who is obsessed with time, and just happened to be the one dealing with all of the calls when each of our victims was reported as being in distress the first time.”

“Sounds good,” Nate said. He hesitated. “Laura, I’m not… I’m not saying I accept what you’ve been telling me. About your… about you. What I said earlier, I didn’t mean it. I don’t think you’re hiding things for attention. I know that’s not you.”

“Apology accepted,” Laura replied, though she couldn’t keep a little testiness from creeping into her voice. So, he knew he was wrong – but still wouldn’t admit she was right? Where did that even leave them?

“I don’t know about all the rest,” Nate continued, his voice back to the reasonable, logical, soothing Nate that she knew. He always had the right thing to say, even if they’d been fighting. He knew how to settle things down. “But you’re right about one thing. We need to solve this case.”

“Then let’s go arrest our suspect,” Laura suggested, extending an olive branch of her own, and she was relieved and gratified beyond measure when Nate turned around and got into the car to go with her.

CHAPTER TWENTY EIGHT

The second the door opened, Laura was moving forward, holding out her badge and making sure to get her foot inside the doorframe. She wasn’t going to allow him the chance to slam it in their faces or try to run, especially not if he’d been forewarned.

“Earl Regis?” Laura said, waiting a bare second for his stunned nod before continuing. “You’re under arrest on suspicion of murder. You have the right to remain silent. Anything you say can and will be used against you in a court of law. You have a right to an attorney. If you cannot afford an attorney, one will be appointed for you.”

“Wh-what?” Earl said, his eyes as round as saucers behind round-rimmed glasses.

There was no treading lightly here. He was the absolute best match they had, and they wanted him off the streets. “We’re going to need you to come to the precinct with us,” Laura said, holding out a pair of handcuffs. “Please hold out your hands in front of you, wrists together.”

Whether he was too shocked to argue or just naturally meek, Earl complied immediately. Laura snapped the cuffs on his hands and then stepped aside to steer him down the short path back to the sidewalk and the car, where Nate was already waiting. He’d allowed Laura to take the lead on this one, but he was still in a ready stance, able to take off running after their suspect if he should decide to try and escape.

Laura assessed the man she was leading, his strength, his ability. He was old, yes. But he was still physically capable. She could feel it in him. He didn’t stumble on the walk. He didn’t shuffle like a more infirm man would. He had a good stride, an upright posture. Age, apparently, hadn’t slowed him down enough to make him an unviable suspect.

Nate made sure he didn’t hit his head as he helped Earl into the car, and then got into the driver’s seat with a glance at Laura. She nodded, walked around the car, and got inside – sitting next to Earl in the back.

As Nate started the engine, Laura brought out the journal and put it on her lap, placing it so that Earl couldn’t help but notice she had it. There wasn’t any time to lose, given that it was mid-afternoon already. If Earl had already taken a victim to another platform, like they suspected, then they needed to crack him sooner rather than later. They needed to get to that person before their timer stopped, and there was no telling when that might happen.

“Earl, I’d like you to talk to me about this,” Laura said, tapping the cover of the journal to show him what she meant. “We’ll have an attorney for you at the precinct, if you want.” This mention was intended to remind him of his rights – making sure she’d ticked off that box. If he didn’t ask for one now but continued to answer her questions, he was as good as ceding his right to any legal representation for the duration of the conversation. Or until he did ask for one, at least.

“M-my journal?” Earl said, looking at it with a look of complete confusion. “Why do you have my journal? Oh, my… my door, we didn’t lock…”


Tags: Blake Pierce Thriller