Tunnel Vision (27 page)

They ate silently for a few minutes before Maggie broke the silence.

“Did you find anything interesting on the

computer?”

“Don’t know yet. I had Nicholls put out a search for similar crimes through NCIC. It could be a while before we get a reply, so we decided to call it a day.”

“I appreciate you bringing dinner to me. I really didn’t feel like cooking and I’m getting a little tired of soup.”

“No problem.”

The silence between them grew awkward. Brodie began to wish she had dropped dinner off and gone on home. In less than half an hour they had finished their food and she carried their plates back into the kitchen. She cleaned up what little mess there was and turned to go back into the living room and make her excuses about getting home. When she turned, Maggie was standing in the doorway, watching her.

“I think I put everything back where it belonged,”

she said as she wiped her hands on a dishtowel.

“If I can’t find something I’ll let you know,”

Maggie said, her voice soft, almost a whisper.

“Well, I better get going. Give us a call if you find anything in the files.”

“I will. And I’m sorry.”

“Don’t worry. You won’t be out long. It won’t affect your training.”

“I’m scared, Royce. I’ve never been hurt on the job before.”

“There’s no evidence your attack was job-related. Probably a junkie looking for money for his next fix.”

When she looked at Maggie, she saw tears pooling in her eyes. “You’ll never forget it happened, Maggie, but I guarantee you’ll get over it eventually,” she said softly.

“Promise?”

She went to where Maggie was standing and took her in her arms. “I promise.”

Maggie cried softly as she held her. When she stopped, she raised her head and looked at Brodie, who wiped away the tears that had run down Maggie’s face, being careful not to press too hard against the bruised areas. Letting her hand rest on the side of Maggie’s face momentarily, she leaned down and kissed her cheek. As she backed away, Maggie’s grip tightened around her arms.

“It sounds stupid, Royce…but I’m afraid to be alone. I know there are police officers outside, but the slightest sound wakes me up.”

“It’s not stupid. Go lie down. I’ll stay until you go to sleep.”

“Will you…could you hold me?”

“I don’t want to hurt you, Maggie.”

“You won’t,” Maggie said as she took Brodie’s hand and led her toward the bedroom.

Turning the bed down, Maggie slipped her robe off, revealing only an Austin Police Academy t-shirt and briefs. Brodie slipped her shoes off and as she leaned back on the pillows, Maggie rolled into her arms. She closed her eyes and held Maggie, lightly stroking her hair and back. In spite of the enormous pleasure she felt holding Maggie in her arms again, a surge of guilt flowed through her. She knew she was on the verge of having to make a difficult decision. At that moment she didn’t know what she wanted and desperately wished her life was less complicated. It was nearly midnight before she woke up. She tried to slide her arm from under Maggie’s body and slip out of bed. Maggie mumbled to herself as Brodie moved and it took her nearly ten minutes to extricate herself and sit up on the side of the bed. She needed a cigarette, but before she could stand, she felt Maggie’s hand touch her back. When she looked over her shoulder Maggie was awake and looking at her.

“Go back to sleep,” Brodie whispered, even though there was no one else in the house.

“Do you have to go?”

“Yeah. Will you be all right?”

“I’m fine,” Maggie said as she readjusted herself on the bed.

Brodie stood up and looked around for her shoes. She slipped them on and picked up her jacket. Maggie sat up on the bed and drew her legs up to her chest, wrapping her arms around them.

“Do you need anything before I go?”

“No. I’ll finish looking over those files in the morning.”

“Take your time. Brauner and Garcia aren’t going anywhere.”

Maggie leaned against the headboard of the bed and closed her eyes. Brodie moved to her side of the bed and sat down on the edge.

“Will you come back?” Maggie asked, her eyes still closed.

Touching her face lightly with her fingertips, Brodie said, “Probably not.”

IT WAS AFTER three in the morning by the time Brodie pulled into her driveway. She was exhausted, but she was almost afraid to go to bed. Three hours sleep wouldn’t help and she reminded herself that either way she would undoubtedly be irritable later in the day. She entered her house briefly to let Max outside before leaving again. She drove to an all-night restaurant near the highway leading to Austin, ordered breakfast and downed several cups of coffee. An hour later she entered the police station. The desk officer looked surprised to see her.

“What’re you doin’ here, Brodie?”

“Couldn’t sleep, Don, so I figured I might as well get some paperwork done.”

“We’re sending out for some food in a little while. Can we get something for you?”

“No, thanks. I already ate. Looks like it was a calm night.”

“Pretty boring. Had to slap myself a while ago to stay awake.”

As she walked into the squad room the sound of her feet moving across the linoleum floor echoed in the empty room. When she got to Nicholls’s desk she saw a stack of computer printouts in the basket behind the ancient dot matrix printer. She picked up the papers and tore them from the paper still feeding into the machine and carried them to her desk. Halfway through the stack, she began to get drowsy. Functioning on no sleep wasn’t so bad when she was involved in something physically active, but now the words and numbers on the printouts were beginning to run together. She put the papers down and went down the hallway to the bathroom. She splashed water on her face and looked at herself in the mirror. A little more than three weeks earlier, her life had been relatively simple. She had a job she liked, a comfortable house, enjoyed the affections of a beautiful woman, and even managed to sleep peacefully at least one night a week. Now she was no longer sure she knew the woman she saw looking back at her.

She grabbed her jacket from the back of her chair and, suddenly wide awake, walked out of the squad room.

“When Nicholls comes in, tell him something came up and I won’t be in until around noon.”

“Sure thing, Brodie,” the desk sergeant nodded without looking up.

THE ILLUMINATED DIAL on her wristwatch

showed five thirty-five as Brodie took a long drag on her cigarette and waited. She blinked as the porch light flipped on and the front door opened.

“RB?” Camille said.

“Sorry if I woke you up,” she said.

“No, no. I was already up.”

Brodie flicked her cigarette into the flowerbed next to the front entry of Camille’s townhouse before entering.

“Is something wrong?” Camille asked as she closed the front door. “Did you have the nightmare again?”

“No,” Brodie said. “Been up all night thinking, and needed to talk to you.”

Camille smiled and pushed her hair back from her face. “Come to the kitchen. I just made a pot of coffee.”

“Sounds good,” Brodie said as she followed Camille down the main hallway and into the kitchen.

“Is it your cases?”

“We’ve actually made some progress there.

Someone attacked Weston though,” Brodie said as she looked at the liquid in her cup and frowned. “We’re not sure if it’s related to the cases yet.”

“Oh, sweetie, I’m sorry. Is she okay?”

“She’ll recover.”

“Do you feel responsible, RB?”

“There wasn’t anything I could have done to prevent it.”

“Let’s go sit someplace where we can be more comfortable,” Camille suggested.

Brodie leaned back on the couch in Camille’s office and set her coffee on the end table. Camille sat next to her. “Want to talk about it?”

Brodie sat up quickly when a woman, yawning and wearing a bathrobe, wandered into the room. Her dark hair was disheveled and she coughed lightly to clear her throat. She walked to the couch and leaned down to kiss Camille lightly. Glancing at Brodie, she asked, “Everything all right, darling?”

Smiling up at the woman, Camille pressed her hand against the brunette’s cheek.

Brodie looked at the two women. “Maybe I should call your office and make an appointment.”

“The coffee’s ready. I’ll join you in the bedroom in a few minutes,” Camille said as the woman bent down to kiss her once again. Brodie thought there was something possessive about the kiss, something telling her she had been replaced.

She watched the woman leave the room and

smiled at Camille. “Where did you meet her? She’s lovely.”

“At the conference I attended in San Diego a few months ago,” Camille answered as her eyes followed the departing figure. “We’ve spoken on the phone a few times since. Then she appeared at my office about a week ago.” A wistful smile crossed her lips and she shook her head. “Sorry. Where were we?”

“Actually, I wanted to speak to you about us…but it doesn’t seem necessary now.”

“Don’t you mean about you and Maggie? I don’t need a degree in psychology to know you’re still attracted to her. What are you looking for, RB? My blessing?”

“Of course not. I never meant to hurt you, but I know I did.”

“You’re not in love with me. I think, deep inside, I’ve always known that. I won’t lie and say I wasn’t a little hurt. I guess I hoped you’d eventually come around, be the one I was looking for, but when Maggie arrived, I knew it was time to move on.”

“What were you looking for?”

Camille propped her head against her hand and closed her eyes. When she opened them again, they were crystal clear. “Someone who needs me as much as I need them. Someone who is willing to give themselves to me and our relationship completely.”

“I couldn’t give you that. I hope you’ve found it now,” Brodie said quietly. “I’m sorry. I never intended to use you.”

“I suppose, in a way, we were using each other, although I’d prefer to think we’ve both been waiting for the real thing to come along. You can’t be afraid to commit to someone because you might get hurt again.”

“Can we still be friends?”

“Of course. Now why don’t you go home and lie down?” Camille asked. “I’m sure the department can get along without you for a few hours.”

“Thanks, Camille, but I’ll be okay.”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” she said firmly as she stood and pulled Brodie up from the couch. “You’re too tired to be of much use to anyone right now. As your psychologist, I’m prescribing rest. So get up and haul your ass out of here.” Glancing in the direction the other woman had gone, she added, “And let me get back to entertaining my guest.”

Brodie laughed as she hugged her. “Doctor’s orders, huh?”

Kissing Brodie’s cheek, she said, “Absolutely.”

BY ELEVEN FORTY-FIVE, feeling somewhat more refreshed after a short nap and a long shower, Brodie sat down at her desk.

“Long night, RB?” Nicholls asked, looking up from a stack of computer printouts.

“Yeah,” she answered. “What’re you looking through?”

“We got the print-outs back from NCIC on similar crimes, but so far it’s not looking too promising. Beheading is a pretty rare occurrence even among the criminal element.”

“Send it through again and narrow the search to murdered janitorial or maintenance workers at any university. This might have been our guy’s first foray into beheading, but I guarantee it’s not his first murder.”

While Nicholls punched information into his computer, she looked through a stack of case folders on her desk. “Where’s the file on Maggie’s attack?”

she asked.

He picked up a folder on his desk and handed it to her. “Still pretty sketchy,” he said as he returned to his computer terminal.

She read the responding officer’s report and glanced through the forensic report. Nicholls had been right; there wasn’t much new in the report. Without a description from Maggie, the perp could have been anyone. Removing the stack of crime scene photos, she looked over each shot carefully. On her second look through the black and white photos, she paused at a shot of a footprint found at the scene.

“You got a magnifying glass?” she asked.

“I think so,” he said as he rummaged through his desk drawers, finally producing a small magnifying glass.

“Get this from a cereal box?” she chuckled as she took it and leaned over the picture.

“You find something?” he asked.

“It’s another one of those woman things Maggie’s so fond of,” she said. “She still has the folder from the Brauner scene, doesn’t she?”

“Yeah, why?”

“Let’s go see how she’s doing,” she said as she stood up and closed the file on Maggie’s assault.

“LOOK AT THESE two pictures,” Brodie said as she set a picture from Maggie’s file next to one from the Brauner file. Maggie and Nicholls looked at the pictures, but it was Maggie who saw it first.

“It looks like the same shoe pattern,” she said.

“Might not be the same guy, but it’s apparently a very popular shoe among the local criminal element,”

Brodie said.

“Well, I’ll be damned,” Nicholls breathed. “The attack on Maggie is related to the Brauner and Garcia cases?”

“Maybe. Maggie,” Brodie said, “you must have heard or seen something our killer doesn’t want you to remember.”

“And he thought he’d shut me up before I figured out what it was,” she frowned. “I’d feel better if I knew what the hell it was, but I honestly have no idea, Royce.”

“Have you found anything in the files that has tripped your trigger?” Nicholls asked.

“No, nothing,” Maggie shook her head. “I still have a few more reports and notes to read, but so far I haven’t found anything that even remotely makes me want to look elsewhere.”

“There has to be something,” Brodie said. “The guy was desperate enough to risk attacking a police officer near her own home.”

“Think he followed her?” Nicholls asked.

“If he thinks you’re a threat because you know something, he could try again,” Brodie said as she looked at Maggie. “Maybe you should think about staying with your folks for a while.”

“No way in hell! There is a patrol car outside now. He wouldn’t risk it.”