Page 94 of Night Watch
She nodded, but her focus was on the precinct doorway in the tall stone building.
“Don’t worry.” He did his best to sound comforting. “You won’t see him. Just pictures.”
“I know.”
He resisted reaching for her hand and got out to open her door. Nearing two a.m., the temps had fallen some, but it was still a warm evening. He and Drake escorted her inside, and the desk sergeant called Johnson down to meet them.
Erik stood between Kennedy and the exit, noting the lingering scent of a fresh lemon cleaner on the recently mopped floors.
The elevator doors opened, and a short, pudgy guy poked his head out. “Come on up.”
They boarded the car, and Erik introduced Kennedy.
“Thanks for coming down in the middle of the night.” Johnson fixed his detective stare on Kennedy.
“I assume this will be a regular sixpack of photos,” Erik said, drawing Johnson’s attention.
Johnson nodded. “I’ll put you in separate rooms and show each of you six photos. You tell me if you see the man who broke into the floating home.”
“Sounds easy enough,” Kennedy said, but her hand was trembling.
Johnson eyed her. “Just be sure you look at each photo carefully. And the session will be recorded for future criminal proceedings. I assume you’re okay with that.”
Kennedy nodded.
“I’m good,” Erik said.
They exited on the detective’s floor and passed a reception desk behind a thick bulletproof window. Johnson used his keycard to open a door next to the desk, which led to a wide-open area running the width of the building with cubicles and chest-high dividers giving privacy. The scent of popcorn filled the air, and several detectives were working, despite the late hour. Not surprising. Crime didn’t stop for anything.
Johnson wound his way to a small conference room and pointed at a chair inside. “Have a seat, Byrd. I’ll be back.”
Erik squeezed Kennedy’s good hand. “You can do this.”
“I know,” she said, but her hand was clammy and Erik knew she was thinking about the man coming for her, his gun aimed.
Johnson led her down the hall, and they disappeared around a corner.
Erik sat in the room, where a trash can was overflowing with disposable coffee cups, which accompanied a stale coffee odor.
Not five minutes later, Johnson returned, his expression not giving away if Kennedy had been able to identify the suspect. He dropped into a chair next to Erik and opened a folder. “Ready?”
“As can be.”
Johnson turned on a video camera and did an introduction, then flipped over six photos on the desktop. “Take your time. Let me know if you see the man who ran into you in the parking lot outside Kennedy Walker’s home on the night of the break-in.”
Erik stared at the men in the lineup, one by one. It only took one look before he saw their guy looking back at him. Erik tapped the fourth picture. “It’s him.”
Johnson’s expression remained flat. “Are you positive?”
He nodded. “Positive.”
“Ever seen him before or after?” Johnson asked.
“Just when he was being arrested tonight,” Erik said, his gaze pinned on the suspect.
“Okay, then we’re done here.” Johnson peered at the camera and gave a concluding statement before he turned it off and looked at Erik. “You chose Jeremy Miller.”
Erik wanted to pump a fist, but he didn’t want to seem unprofessional. “Did Kennedy ID him, too?”
