Page 33 of Dark Terror
“Fine, the damn dog can come, too. If he eats my new sleeper sofa, which you’re also going to pay for, I’ll shoot him.”
Gabe snorted. “You drive a hard bargain, Detective, but fine, you get a new sleeper sofa on me.” It was worth every penny to know Cara would be somewhere safe. Even if he would miss having her at his house. And he hated to admit it, but it was possible he’d miss Ugly Dog, too.
“Can I have end tables to go with my new sofa?”
He shook his finger at her. “Don’t push your luck.”
She shrugged. “Worth a try. And the only reason I’m agreeing to this is to keep our captain from giving you an ass chewing when she finds out you have a thing for your witness, the one living with you at the moment.”
Nate Ryder stuck his head over the partition. “I haven’t been this entertained since that woman dropped to a knee and proposed to Eric at Leo’s in front of every cop and firefighter in the bar that night.”
“God, I’d forgotten about that,” Harry said. “Remember how green he turned? I thought he was going to faint.”
Gabe laughed. “I’ve never seen him run that fast before. The day a woman catches Cantu is the day hell will literally freeze over.”
“True that,” Harry said.
Eric Cantu would be the first to tell you he was a man whore. He saw nothing wrong with taking what was thrown his way, and there were plenty of badge bunnies—women who loved a good-looking man with a badge on his belt—for the taking.
“Go away, Ryder.” Gabe threw a pen at him. “And stop listening in on private conversations.”
“Not gonna happen. So your witness? She’s got you all hot and bothered?”
“None of your business.”
Nate smirked. “I never thought I’d see the day when a woman would have our straight-and-narrow Gabe Calder ready to throw out his personal rule book.”
“Enough, Nate,” Harry said.
“Yes, ma’am.” He dropped back down to his seat, disappearing from view.
Gabe frowned. “How come he listens to you and not me?”
“Because I’m scarier than you.”
“That’s true,” Nate called.
Gabe snorted, catching a glare from his partner. “What? You know it’s true. But back to our case. I asked Connie to canvass our victim’s neighbors. He found out that Sheri Carstad kept to herself, wasn’t friendly, and he couldn’t find anyone who’d been inside her apartment.”
“No one ever saw her with a man?”
“Not that he could find. So no help there. I don’t know what to make of her. She was a strange one, to be sure. You’d think a woman that beautiful would have friends, but so far we haven’t found any. She was a hoarder but why? I did some research on the subject. The reasons vary and it’s not a compulsion completely understood. It’s a mental disorder, yet she had a job where attention to detail was a requirement.”
Gabe leaned back in his chair and drummed his fingers on his desk. “Have you ever known a hoarder?”
“No,” Harry said, shaking her head. “It’s not something I get at all. As far as I’m concerned, the less you have, the less stuff you have to worry about.”
“Doesn’t mean you can’t have usable furniture, Harry.” He waggled his eyebrows at her, laughing when she stuck out her tongue. He picked up the folder Benjamin had given him. “Time to get to work. Let’s go over these bank statements before we pay a surprise visit to Sherman Enterprises. Also, we need to get an appointment with Senator Winslow.”
“Why?”
“Right. I forgot to tell you what else Cara found.” He logged into Facebook and connected to Sheri’s personal page. After he had the photo up, he turned the screen toward Harry. “I’ll ask you the same question Cara asked me when she showed this to me. What do you see?”
Harry pulled the computer across the desk. “Well, hell. That’s a lady in love. Isn’t he married?”
“Yep. What else?”
She studied the photo again. “I’m not sure. What am I supposed to see?”
