Page 42 of Deep Tide

Leyla didn’t think she’d ever get a normal night’s sleep again.

“Do you know who it is?” Bailey asked.

“Who, the detective in charge?”

Bailey nodded.

“Nicole Lawson. You probably saw her at the wedding. She’s smart. And she has a good team working with her.”

“You think they’ll get it solved? The department’s so small here, I’m a little worried about whether they’re up to the task,” Bailey said.

“They’re up to it.”

“You sound confident.”

“I am. We’re small, but we’re also a tight community.” Leyla looked out over the water. “That makes this personal.”

•••

Nicole shut down her computer and grabbed her car keys.

“Heading out?”

She glanced up to see McDeere striding through the bullpen.

“About to.”

He stopped and leaned an arm on the top of her cubicle. McDeere wore street clothes today because he was technically off duty. But he was here anyway. The chief had given him an opportunity to help with the Albright case, and he seemed eager to prove himself.

“How’d it go at Playa del Rey today?” he asked.

“Not great. I asked around, but no one recognized her photo, so she’s probably not a regular.”

“You thought she would be?”

“I don’t know. Maybe if she was moonlighting as an escort or something.”

Following up on the matchbook lead had been a long shot. But Nicole had spent time on it anyway because she still hadn’t figured out why the feds were nosing around her homicide case. The only thing that made sense was that they had some reason to believe the victim might be involved in something linked to organized crime—something like maybe sex work or drugs.

“How’s it coming with the phone records?” she asked. Emmet had enlisted his help combing through them.

“Still coming. Nothing interesting yet, but I’ve still got some more records to go through.”

“Don’t stay too late. There’s always tomorrow.”

“I know. You’re covering the funeral, right? Isn’t it in the afternoon?”

She nodded. “I need to see the family. I already did a video interview, but I want to meet them in person.” She also wanted to see who showed up for the service.

“Good luck,” he said, looking relieved to skip that particular detective responsibility.

“Thanks.”

Nicole crossed the bullpen, thinking about how much she was dreading the service. It was a two-hour drive to Port O’Connor—which would crush her afternoon—and she’d have to dress up. But worse, she’d have to talk to the victim’s parents, and she didn’t have any big developments to share. It had been four days since their daughter was viciously murdered, and Nicole’s team didn’t even have a person of interest yet.

Frustration welled inside her as she passed through the empty waiting room. She pushed through the front door and stepped into the warm evening air.

“Detective Lawson?”

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