“No!” West said. “No, just thephonographs. I – I have a receipt around here somewhere, I can show you!”
Laura drew a heavy sigh. West was hoveringuncertainly, halfway off the sofa with his arms in the air like he thought hewas going to get shot if he moved too fast.
“He got the machines mixed up,” Laurasaid. “Phonographs, not gramophones. They look alike, but they’re not the oneswe’re looking for.”
Nate threw his head back and groaned infrustration, and then rubbed his face. “Mr. West, please forgive theintrusion,” he said. “It seems this has been a case of mistaken identity.”
“So, I’m not in trouble?” West asked. “Doyou still need the receipt?”
“If you could,” Nate said, as Laurastepped off to the side, unable to bear it. They’d hit another dead end. Theonly lead they had, and it had turned out to be nothing.
What the hell were they going to do now?
CHAPTER TWELVE
Laura rested her hands on the steeringwheel, listening to the faint sound of the engine cooling down, and sighed.
“I know,” Nate said. “But it’s late. Andyou said it yourself yesterday. We work better when we’re rested.”
“If we had done any actual work today, Iwould probably feel better about that idea,” Laura scowled.
Nate shook his head. In the darkness ofthe parking lot, they were the only people around. Laura felt exposed under thecar’s interior light, like everyone in the motel rooms above would be watchingthem. “We did a lot of work today,” he said. “It just feels like we didn’tbecause we haven’t caught the guy yet.”
Laura looked at her hands under theartificial yellow light. She’d had no vision today. Well, nothing about thecase. It felt like that was all her life was lately. A constant stream ofdisappointment about not having the right visions. Even when she did, she wasmisinterpreting them.
Not for the first time and almostcertainly not for the last, Laura wanted a drink.
“Tomorrow’s a new day,” Nate said, still tryingto reassure her. “We’re going to get something tomorrow. Maybe the locals willcome up with something for us on the night shift.”
“I just hope it’s not another body,” Laurasaid grimly, getting out of the car. She’d agreed to come back to the motel andget some sleep, but she couldn’t help feeling already like it had been thewrong decision. She glanced up at the moon hanging heavy in the sky above her.She’d never seen the appearance of the moon as a reason to quit before.Normally, she and Nate would argue constantly about when it was time to turnin. She always saw it as giving up.
But tonight, it looked like she had nochoice but to give up. Nate was already halfway to his room, key in his hand,ready to sleep. Laura sighed and copied him, heading to her own room andunlocking the door before relocking it behind herself. She looked at the bedand for a moment almost couldn’t face it. She itched to go back out there andwork on the case.
But work on what? They had nothing. Unlessshe was going to go out there and start fingerprinting every single male whowalked past her in the center of town, she had nothing to contribute.
Maybe Nate was right. Maybe she justneeded some rest.
Laura shrugged off her jacket and kickedoff her shoes and then lay down on the bed without getting undressed anyfurther. She needed a minute – a long one. She picked up her phone and foundherself scrolling to Chris’s name and hitting call, forgetting for a minuteabout the fact she was supposed to be avoiding him.
Maybe it didn’t count if they only talkedon the phone. If they didn’t see one another, then Laura couldn’t witness ithappening. If they didn’t meet in person, maybe Chris would never meet Zacheither.
“Hey,” he said, sounding sleepy. “Are youalright?”
“Hi, Chris,” Laura said, closing her eyesin the darkness of the room. The only light came from outside, sweeping throughthe blinds from the parking lot. “Did I wake you?”
“No, but you’re just in time,” he said. “Iwas about to turn in. How’s your case going?”
“Fine,” Laura said, then sighed heavily.“No, sorry, it’s going awful. I don’t think we’re getting anywhere. I feel abit worn down by it all, to be honest.”
“You only just got there last night,”Chris said. “Give yourself time. You’ll get there. Doesn’t it sometimes takemonths to handle investigations like this?”
“Yes, but…” Laura hesitated.Yes, but Ihave psychic visions that mean we usually get these cases solved a lot quickerthan most. “I’m just not used to that.”
Chris chuckled. “You mean you’re used tobeing such a great agent that those kinds of timelines don’t apply to you,” hesaid. “You better not get too big for your boots, you know. Karma has a way ofproving you wrong when you think you’re awesome at something.”
“Oh, really?” Laura asked. She saw a loosethread and wanted to pick at it, even knowing it might make everything unravel.Part of her wanted to goad him into admitting he wasn’t what he seemed. That hewas violent. Homicidal. “Has that ever happened to you before?”
Chris got quiet for a minute. “When Ifirst started working with Medicins Sans Frontiers,” he said. “I had thisthought that I was better than the others. There was a seven-year-old girl. Shegot hit by shrapnel when her aunt stood on a landmine. When I couldn’t saveher, that was when I knew I wasn’t the hotshot I’d been thinking I was.”