Page 82 of Carter

“No, thank you. I’m meeting a friend around the block shortly.”

“I’ll be in touch with you.”

“Please, only call during the day. Before four…”

“Of course.” I get up, taking my coffee with me, but I pause before leaving. “You are bringing closure to someone who desperately needs it. Ryan’s family is… they’re good people.”

Another sad smile, another nod.

I go back to my truck and call my boss. I give him the run down. He says he’ll work on the warrant. I inform my team, let them know we need to find where this Jason Mercer is and get every possible bit of information on the guy. He no longer works at the facility; I know that much. He was listed as someone who quit, though it was more recently. Within the last year, if I remember correctly.

My fingers itch to call Carter, to give him the good news, but I can’t do that yet. It’s not fair to anyone. I still need to keep in mind that this guy could be innocent. Just because she thinks it was him, doesn’t mean it was. But I’ve got a good feeling this is the man we need. Still, I can’t jump the gun and fuck up this case. There is too much riding on it.

I get back to the precinct and Daniels is waiting for me in my office. He’s got at least twenty years on me, salt and pepper hair with a big mustache.

“Good work,” he says, getting up from the chair and holding out his hand. “But you know we need a lot more, right?”

“I know how this works.” I shake his hand.

“Good, because in order to keep your team, we need as many cases to go well as possible. We can’t have this first one fucking up.”

“I understand.”

“It’s not just about closing cases; it’s about proving that we can do it the right way.”

“Of course.”

Nodding, he says, “We need more before the warrant. I know it’s not what you want to hear, but I want to be sure we can get it.” Disappointment sinks into my chest, but I get it. We need to be smart. “Go through his records, find everything you can, watch him, see what he does.”

“He’s not going to know she said something.”

“Right. But if he did it once, maybe he’ll do it again. Maybe he already has. We need to dig into this guy and see what we can get. Name dropping isn’t enough yet, but you’re close, Bennett. So close.” He pats me on the back. “We need to be patient. You did good, Bennett. Real good. I’m glad to have you here.”

He walks out, and pride swells in my chest. This is exactly why I’m here. Yes, I hoped to grab the fucker today, but if that’s not how we can play it, then we need to wait. I’m itching to get this guy put away, to tell Carter the case is closed, but I won’t risk all that because I was careless. This is why I’m glad I didn’t tell Carter yet. I need to take things slow, take a breath.

My team shows up a few minutes later. I update them on everything I have and tell them I’m going to work this myself for now. I’ll get everything we need, dig as deep as I can so they can keep working on the other cases. If we’re lucky, we’ll start a streak on closing them, because the Howard case is getting close too.

It’s nearing time for me to leave, but I’m not planning on going any time soon. There is too much to do.

I dig into this Jason Mercer, pulling all of his records. All I find are a few parking tickets, which isn’t uncommon. What doesn’t make any sense is that his record only goes back seven years.

“Red fucking flag,” I mutter. I put his photo through a general recognition program, run his social security number, birthdate, address and everything else to see where this guy came from and what he’s been up to.

He’s currently living two blocks from the scene and has been for six years. That’s a long time to live somewhere. He must know his neighbors—or they must know him. Which is what I’m going to handle while the rest of this stuff is running because unfortunately, even in this day and age, it isn’t instant. I’m digging too deep for it to be quick. I can’t sit here and wait for something to pop up. I’ll go fucking crazy.

I leave the office and go straight to his apartment building. He lives on the fourth floor, so I start on the third; this way if he’s here, he won’t hear me asking around about him too soon. I need to get surveillance on him though, which should be set up by tomorrow. Hopefully sooner. All this takes time, which is the worst fucking part. It’s not like the movies—not at all.

I knock on the apartment door that’s below his. A little girl opens the door, smiling up at me like I’m her favorite person.

“Hi, is your mom or dad home?” I add.

She nods, then runs off giggling.

“Charlotte, what did I tell you about opening this door?” the mother scolds. She comes over, confused, when she sees me, wiping her hands on the dish towel she’s carrying. “Can I help you?”

“Detective Nash Bennett.” I flash my badge. “Do you have a few minutes to talk?”

“I’ve told Charlotte a hundred times not to open the door, and the building keeps telling me they’re going to get me one of thosechain locks but it’s always wait, wait, wait.” She steps aside, letting me in. “How can I help you?”