Page 12 of Double Edged Hearts
Chapter Three
Cora
Lyndsey was definitely right. We were in for a long day.
It’s just gone eight, and I’m still nose deep in my work.
Earlier we got called away to a crime scene. There was a murder on the north side of town in Little Hell. It had similarities to the types of murders we’ve seen associated with Matvey. He always gouges out the eyes of his victims.
I knew this job would be tough when I took it, and it has been. Normally I can deal with the rough stuff. What always gets me though is the twisted shit that can only come from bastards like him.
Lyndsey threw up. I skipped past the nausea and landed on the psychological impact. You don’t forget things like that. The sight of a man sitting in a chair with no eyes, face and body covered in blood will always be embedded in my mind. The sight was worse than what you’d see in a horror film. Because it was real. The police said the whole ordeal seemed drug related.
Drugs again, just like the first murder that alerted us to Matvey’s presence.
We spent the last few hours at the coroner’s office and the police station trying to get information on the victim, looking for anything that would help us with our investigation.
When we got back to the Bureau’s office we hit our work hard. Lyndsey’s taking a break, which means she’s talking to Owen. I think she needed to hear his voice to help her calm down. The crime scene experience was the most intense we’ve had in a while, and even the worse one we’ve been to wasn’t as vile as today.
I always know when she calls Owen. Not because she’s happy after. It’s the lightness in her eyes after she speaks to him that reminds me of how I used to be with Alex.
Naturally, when I was asked to go to Chicago on this case I thought of him straight away and what I would say to him if I saw him again. The way I left him was terrible and I know I shouldn’t have done that. He was owed an explanation at least. Anything besides the nothingness I gave him. He never asked me about that last night, then again we didn’t do any talking.
He’s been on my mind all day, and it’s been difficult to concentrate. I’m finding it difficult to concentrate now because I’m exhausted from the night I spent with him as opposed to the long day of work.
I’ve been in the office I share with Lyndsey for the last few hours going over the files I was working on yesterday. The words are all starting to blur and jumble around on the page. I should go back to the apartment and get some rest but I just don’t want to have another fruitless day. What I’m looking through is all the evidence that was collected from the victim in the first murder. Just like the victim today, the first guy was a drug dealer. I was trying to compare the intel we got today to see if I could see any correlations or clues. But, so far I’m drawing a blank. I’m not seeing anything we can use to establish why Matvey killed the men other than they must have had a deal gone wrong and they pissed him off. There’s also nothing that sheds any light on what he’s doing here.
One event doesn’t seem synonymous with the other. My personal feelings are that us knowing he was here was a fluke. I think Matvey had some drug dealings he took care of and he slipped up. In the first murder it was footage from a CCTV camera he didn’t know about that caught his image. The murder occurred in the back office of an auto repair shop. All the other cameras were shot up.
Today’s murder was in an auto repair shop too. That suggests the business was a front for the drug dealing. Those are all reasonable assumptions but neither helps me in any way.
Someone hired him. That’s for sure. It’s the one thing I know and everyone can agree on.
But why?
What’s here in Chicago for him to want?
What is he here to get?
A little tap sounds on my door. It’s already open, so I lift my head, and a smile instantly fills my face when my gaze lands on Richard. I gasp and practically fly over into his arms as he comes in. I never expected to see him until at least a month. We agreed that we’d meet up for thanksgiving either here or in LA if I was still on this case. That’s a month away.
“Richard, oh my gosh. I can’t believe you’re here.” I bubble and he does his customary thing by holding both my hands as he looks me over with pride.
He chuckles, and his salt and pepper brows lift when he gives me a hearty smile. “My dear, please humor me. I just needed to see how my favorite girl is doing.”
He’s always called me that. As I hear the words tonight I think of how my father used to hate it. He never said as such, I just knew. The same way I knew Dad never liked him. I think it was because he suspected Richard was secretly in love with Mom. I’ll never know if that was true, but knowing the truth I now know I wished Richard had done something about his feelings if my suspicions were correct.
Maybe Mom would be alive today if he had. Seeing Alex has dug up so many reminders of my father. Things I truly don’t want to remember.
“I’m rushed-off-my-feet busy,” I answer, and concern fills his pale blue eyes.
“I can see that.” He glances over to my desk with the mountain load of paperwork. “Is everything else okay?” he asks.
“I’m okay,” I answer, knowing he’s probably worried I’ve seen Alex. “I miss L.A,” I add, hoping to reassure him.
“God knows LA misses you too.” Worry clouds his eyes. “Cora, you know if it gets too much, you can always come back.”
“I know. But I’ll be okay.” Despite the goriness, this is the kind of job that will keep me on my toes. I guess it resembles something close to the kind of work I thought I’d be doing if I’d started up my own P.I company. With all my skills and unusual abilities I wanted the tough cases. Honestly, it was the most legit thing I could think of doing with my hacking abilities.
