Page 5 of Spark
They made their way through the security checkpoint, the badge that Addison wore on a stainless steel ball chain around her neck making it an express trip.Chloe metered her heartbeat with every step up the open staircase leading to the second floor, repeating the process with her breaths until they reached the glass double doors markedRemington Police Department: Intelligence Unit.
The room still hit her like a shove.The space was one large square, divided into several groupings of workstations made up of two and three desks each.Tall windows ran the length of the left-hand wall, letting an abundance of morning sunlight into the space to soften the dark and nasty nature of most of the unit’s cases.The opposite side of the room housed a long desk with a six-monitor array mounted above it, which Chloe knew from experience the detectives used as a modern-day crime scene board, updating pertinent information with every turn in a given case.Their tech and surveillance expert, James Capelli, sat surrounded by a bunch of electronic equipment that Chloe couldn’t name and was pretty sure cost more than her annual salary, and he looked up from one of the three keyboards in front of him as she followed Addison into the room.
“Hello, Chloe.It’s nice to see you again,” he said, pushing his black-framed glasses over the bridge of his nose.In all the time Chloe had known the guy, he’d never been anything other than drop dead serious.But he’d also never been unkind, and he was just as integral a part of the Intelligence Unit as every detective in the bunch.
“Hi, Capelli.”Her gaze moved around the room, taking in Addison’s partner, Shawn Maxwell, and the Intelligence Unit’s newest member, Xander Matthews, who had earned his way up from patrol late last year.They both gave Chloe weary chin lifts and bare bones smiles in greeting, and wow, this case must really be a doozy.
“Isabella and Hollister are both still on parental leave,” Addison said, gesturing to the detectives’ empty desks, “so we’re running light on this one.Garza and Sinclair are in the back.”
Chloe nodded.Detective Isabella Walker and her husband, Kellan, had welcomed a little girl into the world five weeks ago, just a few days after Liam Hollister’s fiancée, Carmen, had given birth to a baby boy.Although Chloe had been dodging social gatherings lately, so she didn’t run into Tyler, she still kept up with the tightly knit group through Addison.Detective Matteo Garza rounded out the team, with Sergeant Sam Sinclair leading the unit, and if they were in the back of the office, chances were high they were in an interview room.
“Okay, the suspense is driving me crazy,” Chloe said, her nerves making her breath jump as she sat in the chair Addison had pulled over from Hollister’s desk.“What’s going on?”
Addison shared a micro-glance with Maxwell and Xander that had probably spoken volumes in cop shorthand before looking back at Chloe.“Last night, just before eleven p.m., dispatch got a nine-one-one call from someone claiming a person had been hurt at a warehouse in North Point.The caller wasn’t specific—simply said, ‘he’s bleeding’ and to come quickly.”
“That’s…weird, right?”Chloe asked.Why would anyone be at a warehouse so late at night?
Maxwell nodded, his always-serious expression going for broke.“Considering the warehouse belongs to a shell corporation we think is a front for a DTO?Definitely suspect.”
“Drug Trafficking Operation,” Capelli put in at Chloe’s obvious confusion.“The caller was also whispering, which signaled something unusual and made them hard to identify.The number was blocked.They only stayed on the line long enough to relay the message and a general location before hanging up.”
“Okay,” Chloe said, trying to offset the unease in her belly as she processed the possibilities.A prank, an accident, a person who feared for their life—yeah, none of this was good.“So, was it a drug deal, like you thought?”
Addison’s hitch was so slight, it probably would’ve gone unregistered by most people.But Chloe knew her better than nearly anyone else, and Addison was choosing her words with care.“Not exactly.”
Xander filled the beat of silence that followed.“When patrol arrived on-scene, they did a search and found a man named Sal Brinkman.He had a handful of prior drug charges, most dismissed or pled down.We think he was a mid-level dealer but could never connect him to anyone higher.Not on paper, anyway.”
“Was.”The word rang in Chloe’s ears like an alarm.
Maxwell nodded, one lift of his darkly stubbled chin.“Brinkman was stabbed to death.His ID was in his back pocket and confirmed by his fingerprints, which were obviously in the system.Patrol secured the murder scene and found a thirteen-year-old girl named Esme Crawford hiding behind some crates nearby.”
Shock slammed through Chloe’s veins.“You don’t think she…”
“No.”Addison’s head shake was adamant.“Turns out that *67 thing to block your identity on calls has a back door for emergency responders.We were able to trace the nine-one-one call back to her cell phone pretty quickly.Also, the crime was, ah.More brutal than most.”
Don’t ask.Don’t ask.You don’t want to—“How brutal?”
“Brinkman was stabbed multiple times,” Maxwell said, his voice low.“He lost about three-quarters of his blood volume on that warehouse floor.”
Well, that explained why Capelli hadn’t put any crime scene photos on the board.“Do I even want to know how much blood is in a human body?”Chloe asked.
Of course, Capelli took her question at face value.“Well, it depends on the size of the person, but?—”
“No,” Addison cut in, shaking her head.“You do not.At any rate, a stabbing like this takes brute force.Given Esme’s size—and Brinkman’s—it’s extremely unlikely she’d have the physical capability to commit the crime.”
“Patrol officers didn’t find any blood on her hands or clothes,” Xander added, “she made the nine-one-one call, and she was hiding at the scene even though she had ample time to flee.”
Understanding clicked into place, making Chloe’s stomach dip.“She’s a witness.”
“We think so, yes,” Addison said.“But she’s not talking.”
Sure.The poor kid was probably scared out of her mind.“Okay.”Chloe drew the word out, moving her gaze from Xander to Maxwell to Addison, still trying to connect the rest of the dots.“That’s definitely horrible, not to mention traumatic.But what does it have to do with me, exactly?”
“Esme has been in the foster care system for the past twelve years,” came a familiar, gravelly voice from the back of the room.Sergeant Sam Sinclair didn’t enter the room so much as he simply walked in and owned it, and he made his way to the middle of the Intelligence office in a handful of strides.Chloe belatedly noted that another man was with him, a Remington CFS case worker named Tom who she’d worked with on a few mentoring cases and always liked.
Considering the holy-shit circumstances, though, Chloe skipped the pleasantries.“That’s a long time.What does her support system look like?”she managed to ask, and apparently, it was the million-dollar question.
Tom fielded it.“I’ve only been her case worker for a few months, but I check in every two weeks.Right now, Esme lives in a group home for girls—her third in the past two years.The home director says she’s fallen in with a bad crowd at school this semester.She’s been caught cutting classes and sneaking out after hours a few times, and there have been some other issues that have been getting worse lately.Lots of defiance and boundary pushing.Some with the other girls, but mostly with authority figures.”
