Page 65 of Her Last Whisper
Stop it… stop it…
Exhausted, he leaned against the front of the house, gasping for air, still trying to catch his breath.He tasted the burn and smelled the smoke.
No…
Nothing was going to take away from his mission…
The truth.
Nothing.
Thirty-Eight
Wednesday 1800 hours
Katie was beyond tired and felt ready to sleep even though it was still early. The two strong cups of black coffee had worn off; even though she had new information to shed some light on the case, she was too tired to contemplate it now. As her energy waned, poisonous self-doubts crept into her mind. Was she wasting time following up with Jane Doe? Was she moving the investigation in the right direction? Her gut told her that there was an important piece of evidence associated with Jane Doe and time would have to play that card sooner or later.
As she eased her police sedan onto her property—she’d been too tired to pick up her Jeep at the department—she saw her uncle’s white SUV parked in the driveway. She had called him to check in on Cisco, which he always loved to do, but she was surprised that he was still here.
Katie slowly got out of the car and walked towards the house. The door opened just as Cisco jetted outside and ran around her three times, wiggling his rear end and tail.
“Hey, boy,” she said wearily, giving him a quick pat.
Her uncle opened the door wider. “Long day?” he said.
“Really long, but productive,” she said, closing the door. “What are you still doing here?”
“I wanted to see you and make sure everything was okay.”
“I’m fine,” she assured him as she dropped her briefcase and shed her jacket. Usually she was particular about putting everything in its place, but tonight she just didn’t care. “Just really, really tired…”
“I wanted to hang out with Cisco and we watched the game together.”
Katie laughed. “That’s good. I know he enjoys a good game and some guy time.”
Cisco grumbled and ran to the couch, jumping up on it and making a spectacle.
She walked into the kitchen and opened the refrigerator. Staring at the contents, nothing looked good to her.
“There’s a plate with foil over the top. That’s for you,” her uncle said from the living room.
She grabbed the plate and curled back the foil to find a chicken breast, wild rice, and a fresh vegetable medley. “Yum. Did you make this?”
The dog made a beeline for the kitchen and was immediately next to Katie’s side, nose sniffing at the open fridge.
“Hardly. Claire did. She’s really an amazing cook. You don’t know how lucky I am finding her.”
Katie pulled the plate out, tossed the foil, and put it into the microwave for a couple of minutes. She walked into the living room, kicked off her boots, and sat down next to her uncle.
Letting out a sigh, she said, “What’s up?”
“What do you mean?” He tried to sound casual.
“I mean, why are you here at this hour?” She leaned against him and asked, “What did I do?”
“Nothing. I’m just a bit worried.”
“Alright, who said what?” She knew someone must have made a comment about her working hard that made her uncle worry and stay up this late.
