Page 45 of A Touch of Murder
"It is him, isn't it?" Murphy asked.
"I think so. He's got shorter hair and looks a bit thinner, but yeah, I'd say it's him. If not, it's damn close. Who is he?"
"Martin Wallace Cohen, twenty-nine years old. He was arrested for assault after beating another man in a bar fight. Put the man in a coma. You'll never guess who his cellmate was in jail." Murphy smiled up at Barret.
"Let me guess. One Michael Ray Stevenson?" Barret pulse raced as he realized that Murphy had not only identified their second suspect but also linked their two suspects together. "Great work."
"Thanks." Murphy hit print and the sound of the printer filled the room.
"Okay, get me everything you have on Cohen. Let's pray he's not a ghost like Sevenson is." Barret started back to his desk. "Send me copies of all that, would ya?"
"Sure thing." Murphy tapped away on his keyboard. "He was arrested eleven years ago. Served five years before being paroled. Did his time at the same prison as Stevenson, though they weren't cellmates then. That was only in county. I'm looking up his parole officer's name now."
"I doubt he's been checking in regularly with his parole officer. Usually, he wouldn't be allowed to leave the area if he's on parole. Still, it's possible I guess if he's appeared to be behaving himself and got a job as a truck driver."
"Would he be allowed to get his C.D.L. with felonies?" Murphy asked.
"Depending on the state laws and the company hiring him." Barret opened the file and stared at the mugshot of their second killer. "So, the two meet in jail, then go on to serve some time together in prison. More than enough time to form a tight friendship. Cohen gets out and manages to keep himself out of trouble until Stevenson gets out. The two hook back up and what, decide to kidnap and murder a woman?"
"Might have been a spur of the moment decision. Who knows? There had to be some planning I'd think. I mean, you do have Stevenson buying zip ties." Murphy stood. "I need a smoke after all this. I'll be back in ten." He got up and headed outside.
Barret focused on the information he had. He needed more. But since it was late in the day, there was a chance he wouldn't get more until morning. He searched what information he could on Cohen, running his social security number and other information through every database he had access to. If the guy had a job, he wasn't paying taxes. His listed address was a small town outside of Tucson, and as Barret dug deeper, he found the home belonged to his mother. Cohen's father was deceased, and he had two older brothers, both who appeared to be married and were living a crime-free life, unlike their little brother.
He was so close to catching these guys, yet so far away. He knew who he was looking for, but he had no idea where they were. Hell, they could be in New York by now. He could put out warrants for their arrest and still go years without finding them. It was so frustrating.
Barret spent the next hour filling out forms and getting things sent to the judge who would have to sign the warrants for the two men. With the D.N.A. hits, there was more than enough evidence. Still, the warrants were nothing more than paper until they found the men they were issued for.
"I've got to head out. Jefferson's cows are out again. I swear if it wasn't so much more work, I'd impound the cows and make him pay to get them back." Officer Murphy got up from his desk. "Don't stay at this all night. Tomorrow is a new day. You'll be able to contact their parole officers and hopefully get more information then."
"I'll head out soon. You need help with the cattle?"
"Nah. At this point, I just sound my siren and the damn things run back through the broken fence. I swear it's a game to them. I'll rig the fence and write another ticket. Mrs. Jefferson is going to lose her mind, but she's got to do something. We're lucky nobody's hit a cow yet." Murphy waved as he left the office.
Barret wished he could escape this investigation and deal with a few rogue cows for a while. Not that the cow issue wasn't serious. Someone could die if they hit one of them. The danger was real, and Mr. Jefferson needed to either fix his fence or sell off the cattle.
He forced his mind off the bovine and onto his murder case. There wasn't much more he could do this late in the day, but going home now that he knew exactly who he was looking for didn't feel right. Yet he could hardly sleep at the station, and that was what he would be doing if he didn't get some rest.
After shutting down his computer, he headed out to his car. He stood beside it for a few minutes, taking in the darkening sky and wondering how such a horrible crime could happen in such a beautiful place. He hated that such violence intruded on such a peaceful community. Death was expected. It was part of life. Butthis, this wasn't part of the circle of life. This was dark and evil, and he hated that he even had to face it.
He wondered if he ever had children how he would ever let them out of his sight knowing what might lurk behind every corner. How would he ever let go to let his child grow and become an adult? He'd want to always protect them. Always keep them safe.
He pushed his worries aside. He'd probably never have children anyway. He was overthinking things. Best to get home and go to bed and let his mind rest. As he got in his car and pulled out onto the road, he thought more about Adam. He wanted to drop by and let him know they'd identified the second killer. He wouldn't. It was late and he was probably driving Adam nuts with as often as he dropped by. It had been a long time since anyone piqued his interest the way Adam had. He just needed to slow down. He had no idea if Adam was interested or even willing to try to date someone. He had to remember that it wasn't just about Adam invading his privacy when touching, but also the fact that Adam would have to face the bombardment of Barret's memories also. Was it fair to make Adam see everything? To use the energy it would take from him each time they touched? Hell, how many candy bars would Adam have to eat to deal with seeing Barret's past? Probably a dozen or more. Was he being unfair to Adam by touching him gently every time he said goodbye?
He was still pondering everything as he headed inside his house and made his way to the kitchen. As he made himself a ham sandwich, he wondered what feast Adam had made tonight. Was he eating leftover chili or had he made something with the chicken he'd mentioned? He pulled out a beer and took his food to the living room. He turned on the TV as he set his plate on the coffee table. He uncapped the beer and down a few gulps before his phone dinged, alerting him to a text message.
Adam:When did you do the polar bear challenge?
Barret almost choked as he bit back a laugh. Was that the vision Adam had gotten when he'd touched him? It had to be, because he hadn't mentioned it to him. Perhaps Becky had told him about it?
Instead of texting back, he hit the button to call. He hated text conversations. In his way of thinking, texts were meant for one comment communications, not conversations.
"Hello?" Adam answered.
"I do the polar bear plunge every year. Most of us in the police department do. Why? You want to join me next winter?" Barret asked.
"Hell no. I'm not that crazy. I'll come cheer you on. Even hold a warm robe for you and hand you a cup of hot chocolate after, but there is no way I'm jumping into that water when it's freezing."
Barret laughed. "It's for charity."
