mustache framed his mouth. “This is Detective Hernandez. We need to see some ID.”
Heath didn’t bother asking why. If he’d been Green, he’d have asked him for identification, too. In fact, in different instances on some of the cases he’d handled, he had asked to see identification from people who hadn’t seemed to fit at funerals and other events.
“Sure, Detective. Right-hand pants pocket. I’m going to move slow.”
The man nodded.
Heath forked his wallet out and passed it over.
Green opened the wallet, then looked at Heath again. “Says here you’re from Atlanta. You’re a long way from home.”
“I’ve got some more identification for you if you’ll let me get it.”
“Slow.”
This time Heath reached inside his jacket and brought out his badge case. He passed it over. Green flipped it open and found Heath’s shield.
“What are you doing here, Detective Green?”
“The deceased was the female victim of a violent crime. Those go down, usually it’s the husband, a boyfriend or an ex. Sometimes a family member. A funeral can bring out the worst in people. The captain thought we might drop by, make sure everybody stays safe.” Green looked up. “Are you on the job here, Detective Sawyer? Something the Chicago police department should know about?”
“I’ve been working the White Rabbit killings.”
Green nodded toward the funeral party. “This was one of those?”
“Yeah. Jamaica P.D. hasn’t made it official yet, but it is. They got the card two days ago.”
“I haven’t heard anything about it.”
“Jamaica has better control over their news services than we do here.”
“If they can keep that quiet, they do.” Green handed the wallet and badge case back.
“It won’t last forever.”
“No, it won’t.” Heath put away his things, managing it one-handed because he was still hanging on to the camera.
“Does the family know?”
“I told the sister when I met her down in Jamaica. I don’t know if she believes me.”
“You tell her about the card?”
“No. I haven’t talked to her since Jamaica.”
“Probably something you should do.”
Heath hesitated. “We didn’t really get on while we were down there together.”
Green lifted an eyebrow, but he didn’t ask about that. “Tell you what. I’ll call Jamaica, confirm the White Rabbit connection, then I’ll have a word with the sister. Professional courtesy.”
“I’d appreciate it.”
“If you find out anything further, Detective Sawyer, let me know.” Green passed across a business card, pausing briefly to write a cell phone number on the back. “Looks like we’re all interested in this now. I’ve been following the White Rabbit case and know what happened in Atlanta.”
Heath took the card and slipped it into his jacket pocket.
“I’m sorry it went down like that with your detective.”
“Me, too.”
“But you must have been getting close to the guy, right?”
“We thought so.” Heath knew he couldn’t drop Gibson’s name. The department would rake him over the coals for exposing them to a lawsuit like that.
“We’ll get this guy.” Green gave Heath a brief flicker of a grin. “It’s what we do.” He nodded and kept moving, his partner a silent shadow behind him.
Keyed up all over again, face-to-face with how Janet had been lost so quickly, Heath tried to put his emotions aside and concentrate on doing his job. When he turned back, though, he saw that Lauren Cooper was headed straight for him, and she didn’t look happy to see him.
* * *
At first, Lauren hadn’t believed that Heath Sawyer was there. She’d noticed the police detectives as they’d been circulating the funeral. She didn’t know what they were doing there, or if someone from the police department always showed up in a situation like this, but she knew that Heath Sawyer shouldn’t have been there.
From the disappointed look he gave her, she knew he wasn’t happy that she had seen him. For some
Heath didn’t bother asking why. If he’d been Green, he’d have asked him for identification, too. In fact, in different instances on some of the cases he’d handled, he had asked to see identification from people who hadn’t seemed to fit at funerals and other events.
“Sure, Detective. Right-hand pants pocket. I’m going to move slow.”
The man nodded.
Heath forked his wallet out and passed it over.
Green opened the wallet, then looked at Heath again. “Says here you’re from Atlanta. You’re a long way from home.”
“I’ve got some more identification for you if you’ll let me get it.”
“Slow.”
This time Heath reached inside his jacket and brought out his badge case. He passed it over. Green flipped it open and found Heath’s shield.
“What are you doing here, Detective Green?”
“The deceased was the female victim of a violent crime. Those go down, usually it’s the husband, a boyfriend or an ex. Sometimes a family member. A funeral can bring out the worst in people. The captain thought we might drop by, make sure everybody stays safe.” Green looked up. “Are you on the job here, Detective Sawyer? Something the Chicago police department should know about?”
“I’ve been working the White Rabbit killings.”
Green nodded toward the funeral party. “This was one of those?”
“Yeah. Jamaica P.D. hasn’t made it official yet, but it is. They got the card two days ago.”
“I haven’t heard anything about it.”
“Jamaica has better control over their news services than we do here.”
“If they can keep that quiet, they do.” Green handed the wallet and badge case back.
“It won’t last forever.”
“No, it won’t.” Heath put away his things, managing it one-handed because he was still hanging on to the camera.
“Does the family know?”
“I told the sister when I met her down in Jamaica. I don’t know if she believes me.”
“You tell her about the card?”
“No. I haven’t talked to her since Jamaica.”
“Probably something you should do.”
Heath hesitated. “We didn’t really get on while we were down there together.”
Green lifted an eyebrow, but he didn’t ask about that. “Tell you what. I’ll call Jamaica, confirm the White Rabbit connection, then I’ll have a word with the sister. Professional courtesy.”
“I’d appreciate it.”
“If you find out anything further, Detective Sawyer, let me know.” Green passed across a business card, pausing briefly to write a cell phone number on the back. “Looks like we’re all interested in this now. I’ve been following the White Rabbit case and know what happened in Atlanta.”
Heath took the card and slipped it into his jacket pocket.
“I’m sorry it went down like that with your detective.”
“Me, too.”
“But you must have been getting close to the guy, right?”
“We thought so.” Heath knew he couldn’t drop Gibson’s name. The department would rake him over the coals for exposing them to a lawsuit like that.
“We’ll get this guy.” Green gave Heath a brief flicker of a grin. “It’s what we do.” He nodded and kept moving, his partner a silent shadow behind him.
Keyed up all over again, face-to-face with how Janet had been lost so quickly, Heath tried to put his emotions aside and concentrate on doing his job. When he turned back, though, he saw that Lauren Cooper was headed straight for him, and she didn’t look happy to see him.
* * *
At first, Lauren hadn’t believed that Heath Sawyer was there. She’d noticed the police detectives as they’d been circulating the funeral. She didn’t know what they were doing there, or if someone from the police department always showed up in a situation like this, but she knew that Heath Sawyer shouldn’t have been there.
From the disappointed look he gave her, she knew he wasn’t happy that she had seen him. For some
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