Lorie O - Strong, Sleek and Sinful

“If you came over because you think I complained about us not working together, I didn’t do that.” Carl looked at Perry, searching his face as if needing to see his reaction to his comment.

“Actually, that never entered my mind,” Perry told him honestly. “You’re the best partner I could ask for,” he added, guessing Carl needed reassurance and not minding giving it to him. Carl was a good cop, quite a bit younger than Perry but molding well and learning the ropes quickly. “You’ve never bitched that I head out on my own, and are always there when I’ve asked you to run with me.”

“Hey, whatever works, man,” Carl offered, shrugging and returning his attention to his beer. “Maybe his ass is on the line for something. It might not even be us. Could be that he got his butt chewed and wants us all prim and proper to save his own hide.”

“Could be,” Perry said, leaning forward and watching his beer can perspire. “What else he tell you?”

“Not a lot. He came over unexpected-scared the crap out of me. It was late last night and I was about to crash. To tell you the truth, it wasn’t so much what he said but how he acted.”

“Like he was checking your place out?”

Carl looked at Perry, his black eyes not blinking as he stared at him for a long moment. “Yup. Exactly what he was doing. He was checking the place out, searching for something. Flynn, you think we’re under investigation for some bogus charge?”

Rad didn’t chase ghosts. Perry had worked with the Chief long enough to respect the man. Something was going on. Whatever it was, he wouldn’t figure it out sitting here bullshitting and speculating with Ramos.

“I honestly have no idea what the Chief is up to.”

After leaving his partner’s house, Perry did a drive-by past Kylie’s house, not surprised but feeling a bit frustrated when she wasn’t home. He hit the mall, bowling alley, and library and didn’t find her car at any of those locations. Then heading over to the station, he decided to see if Rad was pulling some overtime. Perry was on edge, needed to burn off some steam, and returning home wouldn’t help him find answers.

As he entered the station and then walked down the hall toward the “pit,” the large room where all their desks were lined in rows, paired off and facing each other, the smell of coffee hit him, which didn’t alert him as much as the whistling. The “pit” held onto way too many smells from years of exhausted cops working overtime. He paused, though, listening as someone tried carrying a tune.

Goddard stopped in his tracks, quickly raising his cup and holding it away from himself so the steaming brew wouldn’t spill. “You scared the crap out of me,” Goddard said, and then blew on his coffee.

“Anybody here?” Perry asked, heading toward his desk and passing by Goddard’s. His computer was booted up, but he’d been away from it long enough that the screen saver had kicked in.

“What? I don’t count?”

“It depends on what you’re doing.”

“Looking for pussy on the Internet.”

Perry stared at Goddard, who returned the serious look for a moment before laughing easily. “Goddamn, Flynn. Look at me like I’m serious. Shit.” He rolled his eyes and then slumped into his chair, moving his mouse and then focusing on his screen. “What brings you down here, anyway?”

“Have you heard anything new on the Olivia Brown case?”

“You get assigned to the online predator case?” Goddard clasped his hands behind his head and leaned back, studying Perry. “And no. I don’t know a thing.”

“Nope. Not assigned to anything. I tried to get Rad to let me head it up, but no dice.” He’d get the Chief to agree to him having the case, though. No one else would take it. His nieces’ lives were at stake with the bastard hunting girls in Mission Hills. That didn’t sit well with Perry. But even more so, he wouldn’t stand for the Chief giving the case to one of several cops on the force who would love to have it just for the publicity. The case wasn’t about publicity. It was about putting one of the lowest forms of life behind bars, or killing him. Perry would love to be the one to pull the trigger.

“No one is assigned to those cases. And you would think someone should be, yes?” Goddard didn’t wait for Perry’s response but leaned forward, playing with his mouse again and then typing. “Seems to me if someone was assigned to play around online a bit, they could find the guy.”

“Yeah, maybe.” Perry booted his computer up and waited for the icons to appear on his desktop. He wanted to read over the reports of all the cases they had on file so far. And to hell with anyone if they questioned him researching a case not assigned to him. Data needed to be gathered. The sooner he learned as much as there was to know about each teenage girl, the faster he could create an MO on the perp who was stalking them. If he was going to be written up for doing that, then someone had too much damn time on their hands.

Olivia Brown had disappeared the other day, not showing up at her car at the mall and leaving her friends stranded and in need of rides home. The police report didn’t offer anything he didn’t already know. Olivia’s parents were panicking, calling the police department hourly. The notes after the report stated that the parents had hired a private investigator. All of Olivia’s friends were interviewed. Two of her friends knew she had been chatting online with a guy she had the hots for. Neither interview offered anything conclusive that could be followed up on.

Perry pulled up Maura Reynolds’ file next. She had disappeared over three months ago and there were no new leads. Interviews conducted right after she disappeared confirmed she had talked with her friends about meeting a boy who went to school in Independence, a town over thirty minutes away and across the state line into Missouri. The police had her hard drive from her computer as evidence, and chats were documented showing she’d arranged to meet a boy named Peter. They were going to see a movie together. Maura never came home, and interviews with theater employees that night stated that no one remembered seeing her pay for a movie. A current picture was shown to all theater employees. No one recognized her.

Then there was Sally Wright, whose dad had saved her life. Perry reread the interview that he’d gone over several times already, along with the other files he’d just browsed through. Sally confirmed the boy she was supposed to meet was Peter. He was a junior attending a high school in Overland Park, a town ten minutes away from Mission Hills. Although there were three Peters living in Overland Park who were juniors, the officer who’d interviewed each boy stated in the report that none of the boys knew Sally and they hadn’t been chatting online with any girl who lived in Mission Hills.

Perry scrubbed his head with his fingers, reading the interviews with the Peters in Overland Park again. One of them was one hell of a good liar. Either that or whoever Peter was, he wasn’t a junior in Overland Park.

The doors outside the “pit” opened and loud voices echoed off the walls. Barker and her partner, Richey, headed down the hallway toward the holding stall with several unique-looking characters, probably prostitutes, judging by the skimpy clothing on the two teenage girls who teetered on their incredibly high heels. The boy with them ranted the usual mantra about how they had picked him up by mistake.

Barker glanced his way and winked, holding the arm of one of the teenage girls, who also looked his way.

“Why couldn’t we get picked up by a cop who looks like him?” the teenager asked Barker.

Lt. Ann Richey brought up the rear, rolling her eyes at him and grinning. He didn’t return the smile. Instead he turned his attention to the screen. There were people in the world who lived with others continually dropping comments, either crude or meant as sincere praise, that let that person know they were sexually appealing, good-looking, eye candy. Perry had lived with comments like that most of his life, and as he sat there thinking about it, he realized he didn’t usually bat an eye.