“Yeah, that puts him away for a year or so thanks to the conditions of his previous release,” Nate said. “I really hope it doesn’t take a year for us to get a confession out of him, but it’s something.”
Laura sighed, blowing out a long breath. She was getting tired of this case. Tired of trying to work something out. She felt so sure that they had him. He’d been in her vision – the only really useful vision she’d had for the whole case. He was in the right place, and he clearly had violent tendences. He had no alibis. It was so clear to her that they had the right guy.
Now they just needed him to confess – and he wouldn’t.
Why couldn’t these killers do them the decency of at least trying to make things a bit easier for them?
“You look exhausted, Laura,” Nate said.
“Thanks,” she said, shooting him an ironic look. It was always great to be told you weren’t looking at your best.
He smirked. “I didn’t mean it like that. You must not have slept well last night, that’s all. And you’ve, uh. Put a lot into this case.” He glanced at Detective Thorson with a side flick back to Laura, so that she would understand what he meant. He was referring to the one vision she had managed to have. He just didn’t want to say it in front of someone else.
If he only knew the number of visions she was used to having. She almost wanted to laugh at him.
But…
He was right. She hadn’t slept well last night. That late-night call to Zach about the visions, trying to figure out if she was broken. And then the strain she’d been through trying to make one come, coupled with the chase after Dan Martin in the warehouse. It was no wonder she was feeling so frustrated now. She’d worn out too much of her stamina to be able to really put everything into this interview.
“Maybe you’re right,” she sighed. After all, there was no rush now. Not until Friday, when she would be getting anxious to get home for the weekend. Two more days of interrogation could break him before she had to worry about that. But they had him, and while he was behind bars, he wasn’t able to kill anyone else.
She was usually so driven to keep going, to never rest until the killer was stopped. But he was stopped. Maybe it would be okay for her to take a little break. Just this once.
“Go on,” he said. “I’ll carry on talking to him. Maybe he’ll be more intimidated at the idea that the good cop has left the room. Hey, he’s obviously racist – maybe Detective Thorson can come in with me and see if that really riles him up.”
Laura smiled a little at the mental image.
She wanted to stay. Missing even a moment of the interview made her feel itchy. What if Martin said something important and she wasn’t there to hear it? What if something slipped through the cracks?
But she trusted Nate. She knew he would do a good job without her. She had to let him do his thing. Maybe he was right – maybe it would work.
“Alright,” she sighed. “Fine. I’ll go back to the motel and get a takeout or something.”
“Don’t stay up late,” Nate warned her. “I mean it. Go back and get some rest. We’ll tackle him fresh together in the morning.”
Laura nodded. She hesitated for an awkward moment – how did you leave a situation like this, where it wasn’t appropriate to hug people but felt too formal to shake their hands? – and then she nodded again, stepping out into the hall.
She had a weird feeling as she walked through the precinct and out to the hired car. She hesitated then, considering going back and asking Nate if he needed the car, but she knew he could just ask for a ride from anyone in the precinct.
She had to stop making excuses and get out of there.
Laura got into the car, sat behind the wheel, and sighed, closing her eyes for a moment. She put her hands on the steering wheel and –
She was in a huge open space, so deep and wide she couldn’t see the edges of it, all fading off into the darkness. The space was shrouded in gloom, so dark she could barely make out anything. She had the eerie feeling of not even being able to see her own hand.
It was hard to say whether the room was dark or whether it was the vision, but her visibility was almost gone. Then as she continued to stare, she began to see a little more and a little more. First the single figure of a man – a man she now recognized as actually being a mannequin, not a real person – emerged from the gloom. Then, as her eyes adjusted, more around and behind it. Rows and rows of them.
She was in the warehouse again. All of the mannequins were lined up perfectly, as if they had never been knocked over or disturbed. And they were all staring at her as they had been before.
She was here again. Just how it had been last time. But she’d already done this. She’d caught him. So why…?
There was a movement further down the line, a figure stepping out and looking at her. It was gloomy, the vision swirling and obscuring what little sight she did have. She couldn’t make out his face, his features. But it didn’t matter, did it?
It was him. It was Dan Martin – Dan Molloy. It was him.
She’d already done this.
Why did she have to –
Laura opened her eyes and took a breath, trying to figure out what she’d seen.
What was going on? Why had she returned to that same moment in her head? What was the vision trying to tell her?
How had she even had a vision – when all she was touching was the steering wheel of the hired car? What could possibly have triggered it here?
She had no idea, but she knew in her gut what she had to do if she wanted to get any answers at all.
She gripped the wheel tighter and started the engine – turning the car not in the direction of the motel, but towards where she knew the warehouse was waiting for her.