Page 113 of Flint’s Strike

No hospital needed. I’d tell you not to alert the authorities, but you are the authorities.

There he is.

No longer worried my partner’s dying, I take the first cup out of the fresh pot and head back to the conference room. The video footage hasn’t given me a damn thing. Even at double speed it was mind-numbing.

The only thing worth noting happened around four p.m. A kid on a skateboard caught a bad edge, wiped out, and ended up sprawled on the sidewalk. A homeless man pushing a shopping cart stopped, helped him up, and waited until he was steady before moving on.

That’s it. The most interesting thing was a stranger making sure a kid wasn’t hurt. I’ll go back to it later. When we can divide it between the two of us.

Rather than waste the next thirty-nine minutes until Nate shows up, I start pulling on the threads Denise gave me last night. Up first: cousin on his mother’s side of the family.

Kessler’s personnel file led me to his next of kin—his mom, Barbie. Our records aggregator listed a Barbie Platt at the same address, and the county clerk confirmed Barbie Platt married Bobby Kessler forty-seven years ago. But that’s as far as I got last night.

Time to go digging through Barbie’s family.

The conference room door opens right as I find the last of Charlie Kessler’s three cousins. I glance at my watch. “You’re ninety seconds late. Scratch that. You’re one hour, forty-one minutes, and thirty seconds late.”

Nate lets his bag slip from his shoulder, and sets a Big Gulp next to his laptop. “I was hoping you’d round down.”

His eyes are bloodshot, and his normally shaggy hair is somehow even shaggier this morning. But the biggest tell he’s had an awful morning is the lopsided knot in his tie. “Your tie’s crooked.”

Nate closes his eyes for a full second. “I know.”

Shit.

Despite the usual state of his hair, and his habit of “accidentally” spilling something on his shirt before interrogating suspects to throw them off their game, Nate has never shown up to work without a perfect Windsor knot. “You gonna tell me what happened? Or am I supposed to guess?”

He slides a legal pad from his satchel. Three different colors of ink bleed together on the wrinkled top page. Nate squints at the now illegible scrawl.

“Turns out sleep deprivation eventually wins. Who knew?”

Flipping to the next page, he shakes his head, then rips that one out completely. “Around midnight, I started chasing down Apex’s origins. Found a few things.” He taps the yellow paper. “Then I lost a fight with an energy drink.”

I give him the side-eye. “You mean you spilled it.”

Nate sighs. “On my notes. The table. Myself. Fell asleep halfway through cleaning it up. I only woke up because someone thought I was in the hospital.”

Frowning, I point at his cheek. “You’ve got a smear of green ink. Right…there.”

Nate rubs a hand over his face. “Pen caps are terrible pillows.”

“You want to walk me through what you found? Or wait until the caffeine hits?”

“You go first. I’m not…spreadsheet ready yet.” He says it like he’s never had an off day. Then again, I’m not sure he has.

I nod at the monitor. “Auto body shop came through with more than we asked for. A full twenty-four hours of footage.”

“Twenty-four?” He drags the Big Gulp closer. “I guess I know what I’m doing if I can’t sleep again tonight.”

“The first two hours were riveting. I decided to pivot.” Sending the electronic case file to the wall screen, I scroll to the last few lines. “I did a deep dive into the Kessler family. Barbie Kessler, formerly Barbie Platt, had one sister, Ruby. She married Kent Butler, and they had a son. Eugene.”

Nate studies the screen. “You think Kessler’s cousin knows where he is.”

I fill him in on the conversation I had with Charlie’s ex-girlfriend last night. “If Charlie watches the news, he knows a building he inspected burned to the ground two days ago.”

“And an off-the-grid cabin would be perfect to hide out in.” For the first time today, the exhaustion in Nate’s eyes fades.

“I was just about to search for Eugene’s property records. Want to watch?” I waggle my eyebrows at him, hoping to keep him focused a little longer.