What She Doesn't See (4 page)

Hernandez and the Professor would head out
around eight to take care of that one. The family, who’d arrived in
town only yesterday, had requested additional services to include
cleaning the carpet throughout the home and washing down all walls
and ceilings.

Thank God the couple’s air-conditioning had
kept the house below seventy-five degrees. The mess would be bad
enough, but there was nothing as bad as a body that had roasted in
Miami’s summer heat. The July climate turned a closed-up,
non-climate-controlled house into a virtual oven. Not a pleasant
situation.

The Professor poked his head through her
door. “Have you read the
Herald
this morning?”

Alex tossed the schedule aside and picked up
her latte. “Haven’t had time. Did you find something interesting?”
She savored the sweet concoction as she waited for the Professor to
share the news she’d missed.

“I think perhaps you should read this for
yourself.”

He made the short journey to and around
behind her desk. Alex leaned back out of the way while he spread
the paper in front of her. He tapped the headline
Detective’s
Death Under Investigation.

“Isn’t he a friend of yours?” the Professor
asked.

Somehow her cup found its way back to her
desk as she skimmed the front-page article recounting the tragic
automobile accident of a longtime criminal investigations
detective...

Detective Louis Hitchcock

“Ohmigod...” Alex looked up at the Professor.
“I saw him yesterday.” Her breath caught. “I talked to him last
night.”
I slept with him three months ago...

Dread and hurt welled in her chest. How could
this have happened? Hitch been fine when they talked.

The Professor gestured to the paper.
“According to the article, the accident likely occurred between ten
and eleven last night. There aren’t that many details given.”

Her thoughts whirling, Alex grappled to
remember the approximate time he’d called last night. After her
bath… she’d thought she’d heard someone on her porch.

Nine-thirty or tenish maybe. Jesus.

He could have died only a few minutes after
they’d talked. Why hadn’t she said something like how good it had
been to see him that day? Why hadn’t she just said yes to dinner on
Friday?

Hitch was dead
.

She blinked away the disbelief. “Thanks,
Professor.”

Alex didn’t notice when he left the room, but
he was gone the next time she glanced around her office. She tried
to reconcile herself to what she’d just read.

Hitch was dead.

She forced herself to read the entire
article. It didn’t specify the details, but it did mention that the
one-car accident was under investigation. When he’d called her,
he’d said he was going to see the computer whiz kid who’d
unofficially analyzed the contact lens.

Had he made it to the guy’s house?

Did the police even know where he’d been
headed?

Alex sagged in her chair, let the cold, harsh
reality wash over her. Now she’d never get to tell him that if
she’d been the type for commitment, he could have been the guy.

Shaking off the painful thought, she
considered that she had spoken with Hitch last night, possibly only
minutes before he died. Any information she could offer that might
help the investigation was not only her civic duty, it was her
obligation as a friend.

Alex grabbed her bag and put thought into
action.

The Professor and Hernandez had this
morning’s schedule under control. Unless something new came up, she
could spare a couple of hours. The final reports she’d been meaning
to complete and the other paperwork she needed to review could
wait.

Her friend was dead.

That wouldn’t wait.

Miami Beach PD, 1100 Washington Avenue

The Miami Beach Police station was located in
a building that defined the Art Deco style. The Criminal
Investigations Unit called the third floor home. The division was
laid out in a grid pattern with dozens of metal desks floating amid
a sea of gray carpeting.

She waved to a couple of the detectives she’d
worked with on occasion and basically ignored the guys who openly
leered. Not that she minded when a man showed his appreciation for
her hard work and good genes, but these guys were just being jerks.
Most had wives and kids at home.

Yet another reason to stay unattached. You
didn’t have to worry about a cheating husband if you didn’t have
one. Didn’t have to worry about mismatched socks. Dirty boxers or
dishes piled in the sink. Life was just less complicated when one
stayed single.

She wove through the maze of desks until she
reached the one belonging to Detective Jimmy Patton. He and Hitch
hadn’t been partners that long, only since Hitch’s longtime partner
had retired and moved to Maine last fall.

When Patton looked up Alex recognized the
exhaustion and the pain in his eyes. He’d likely been up all
night.

“Jackson,” he said, acknowledging her
presence but immediately returning his attention to the file in
front of him.

She was pretty sure his reluctance to
maintain eye contact was about keeping his emotions to himself.
She’d had a hell of a time repairing her makeup after her cry on
the drive over.

“Hey, Patton.” She sat down in the chair next
to his desk. “I heard about Hitch. Man, I’m so sorry. I can’t
believe he’s gone. Do you know what happened?
”

He shook his head, spared her another brief
glance. “Techs are...ah... checking out his car for mechanical
failures, but it looks like he fell asleep at the wheel. Just ran
off the road. He’d been putting in way too many hours lately. I
tried to tell him.” The sigh that punctuated his final statement as
well as his emphatic attempts to refocus his attention on the file
gave away just how badly Hitch’s death had shaken him. “The M.E.’s
preliminary report says cause of death was head trauma.”

His words hit Alex hard. Hitch hadn’t sounded
the least bit sleepy or even tired when she’d spoken to him. In
fact, he’d sounded hyped. Her intuition was humming like crazy.
She’d initially thought that she was merely in denial about Hitch’s
death, but it was more than that.

Deep breath. Take it slow. “That’s why I came
by,” she said, unsure whether what she had to say was relevant yet
certain she didn’t want to keep it to herself. Who knew what could
prove significant in an investigation. “Hitch called me last night
at around nine-thirty, maybe ten.”

Patton picked up a small spiral notepad and
shuffled through the pages until he’d found what he was looking
for. “Yeah, we got that from his cell phone. I know you did a
cleanup on an unattended suicide he’d covered. I planned to touch
base with you and see if the call he made to you had anything to do
with that.” His gaze connected with hers then. “Or if maybe the two
of you...”

He let the sentence trail off. Alex didn’t
have to say anything, he read the truth in her eyes. She and Hitch
hadn’t started going out again. Patton looked away as if he’d
rather she’d lied to him. Partners talked about their personal
lives. She wouldn’t have expected any less.

“He didn’t talk to you last night?” Alex
found the idea unreasonably troubling considering she’d passed
along a piece of possible evidence that Hitch had obviously been
excited about. Wouldn’t he tell his partner?

Patton scrubbed his hand over his face. “I
was at the hospital until I heard about the accident. My wife went
into labor a little early.”

Alex had forgotten his wife was expecting.
Well that certainly explained his being left out of the loop last
night. “Is everything okay?”

He grinned but the effort was a little dim
under the circumstances. “Yeah. A girl. Eight pounds one ounce.
She’s a doll.”

Something far too similar to longing pierced
a tender place deep inside Alex. She evicted the sentimental ache
and gave herself a swift mental kick for even allowing the
senseless emotion to rear its pointless head. She’d made her
decisions about husbands and kids long ago. Hearing about other
people’s kids didn’t usually bother her. The emotional roller
coaster this morning was about Hitch.

She still couldn’t believe he was dead. She
kept expecting to turn around and hear him tossing some silly joke
at her or asking her if she had plans this weekend.

Shaking off the painful thoughts, she did
what she’d come here to do. “I don’t know if this makes any
difference,” she began, unsure exactly how to explain the
situation, “but I gave Hitch a piece of what may have been evidence
from the Crane suicide scene.”

Patton sat up a little straighter, his
attention sharpening a bit. “What sort of evidence? Hitch’s report
says the incident was cut-and-dried. No questions on his end. I
haven’t seen the autopsy report yet—they’re a little backed up over
at the morgue—but the M.E. didn’t mention expecting anything
unusual, according to Hitch’s notes.”

She nodded. He was right on all counts. Hitch
hadn’t said anything different to her. “I gave him a peculiar…
thing.” God, how did she say this? “It was part of his eye. Like a
weird contact lens.” Well that surely explained what she meant.
Frustration brimmed. “Hitch took it to a friend for an unofficial
analysis,” she offered in lieu of a better explanation. “When he
called me last night he was wound up about it. He said he was going
over to pick the lens up and that he’d be taking it to the state
lab this morning. He sounded pretty excited.”

Patton’s gaze narrowed with keener interest.
“Do you know who he was going to see?”

Alex shook her head. “Not a clue. Some
computer whiz. Like I said, he was excited. I can’t see him falling
asleep at the wheel when he’d sounded fully alert when we
spoke.”

Patton glanced at his watch and swore. “I
have a meeting.” He stood. “Listen, if you think of anything else
Hitch said that might be relevant, give me a call.” He passed Alex
a business card. “I’ll let you know as soon as I hear anything
about the memorial service.”

Alex tucked the card into her bag, thanked
him, and made her way through the maze of cold metal desks without
stopping to chat with anyone. She wanted to get out of here and to
some place where she could think. The idea that just yesterday
Hitch would have walked her out if she’d dropped by to see him had
her on the verge of hyperventilating.

A detective who looked vaguely familiar
almost bowled her over as he bounded past her. Alex felt like
slugging him but didn’t want the hassle. She needed out of here.
She couldn’t breathe.

“Patton,” she heard the cop who’d been in
such a hurry say, “I’ve got the preliminary on that Morningside
house explosion.”

Alex’s feet slowed. Maybe it was oxygen
deprivation. Morningside? Wasn’t that neighborhood where Hitch had
been going last night? She lingered, wanted to hear the rest of
what the detective had to say.

“They found a body, but it was burned so
badly it’ll take some time to ID.”

Alex told herself she was probably
overreacting. A lot of people lived in Morningside—this explosion
likely had nothing to do with Hitch’s friend who lived there. It
could be anything from a secret meth lab to a gas leak.

“You take a ride over there,” Patton
suggested. “I’ll join you after my meeting.”

Alex turned around, waited for Patton and the
other detective to catch up to her. There was one more thing she
had to know. “By the way, where did Hitch’s accident happen?” The
paper hadn’t given the location.

Patton looked mildly annoyed that she had
waylaid him or maybe the exhaustion was making him testy. “Over on
1-95 near Hallandale. Why?”

She shrugged. “Just wondered.”

Patton eyed her suspiciously. “Is there
something more you need to tell me, Jackson? He was my
partner.”

She shook her head. “It’s nothing like that.”
The white lie felt bitter on her tongue. She should just tell him.
“I was just curious that’s all.” But he’d basically blown her off.
What was it he’d said?
If you think of anything else Hitch said
that might be relevant.
..

“See you around,” he muttered.

Watching Patton go, she realized what she had
to do next. She had to know why Hitch’s vehicle had been found way
north of where he’d told her he was going. But first she wanted to
know if a computer genius had lived in the Morningside residence
where the explosion had occurred. She also wanted to know if the
crime scene techs had found the contact lens in Hitch’s car. Or if
they’d found anything at all that suggested the accident wasn’t an
accident.

She wanted to know a lot. She needed enough
to give Patton reason to consider Hitch’s death suspicious. Since
she wasn’t a cop, the chances of Patton listening to her until she
had something substantial were slim to none.

No problem. She had her own sources and
methods. Patton wouldn’t like it if he found out. Didn’t matter.
She owed it to Hitch to look into this. Patton wasn’t taking her
seriously. He was preoccupied, she understood.

Alex might not be a detective, but she
definitely knew her way around the scene of the crime. All she
needed was access.

Alex called her office as she climbed into
her SUV. Shannon answered on the first ring. Alex waited patiently
while she went through her
Never-Happened-we-can-make-anything-go-away spiel. “Hey, do me a
favor, will you?”

“I was just about to call you.”

Damn. Alex didn’t have time to respond to a
client call right now. Not that she resented plenty of business,
but this just wasn’t a good time. “What’s up?”

“There was a strange call for you a few
minutes ago. Some really odd guy.”

A frown scrunched its way across Alex’s
forehead. She elected not to point out to Shannon that there were a
lot of odd guys in a city the size of Miami. “Did this odd man have
a name?”