Page 29

CHAPTER 29

KEVIN

A knock on my office door pulls me away from the few minutes I was able to respond to emails building up in my inbox.

“Captain Cooper, Officer Mercer would like to see you,” Sandra says, peeking her head inside. Ever since I reprimanded her, it’s like she’s doubled down to be everywhere I could need her.

I’m getting coffee refills which I keep pouring out every hour, updates on personnel that are unnecessary, and poor excuses for coming into my office unannounced with a, “Oh, I didn’t know you were in here. I was just checking to see if I set a file on your desk.”

“ Mercer! ” I call out, not responding to her. She pushes the door open further, then steps back to let him in. Vincent rushes in with a thick file in hand and drops it on my desk. Sandra is still filling the doorway and I wait a full minute before snapping, “Miss Burns. Was there something else?”

“Did you need anything, sir? I could grab?—”

“Go!”

It comes out as a snarl, and I make a mental note to call HR again to get her out of here. I don’t want to deal with her anymore. Vincent, thankfully, doesn’t comment about Sandra. He’s excited and starts rambling as soon as the door shuts.

“We found the kayaker. You can call in the search and rescue teams and the boats. This asshole is fucking alive , Coop! I got a call not even fifteen minutes ago from the Canadian Border Services and they processed his fucking passport the day after we got the call he was missing.”

Patrick Lane’s family reported him missing seventeen days ago after a long day he was supposedly out on the lake kayaking. The sheriff’s office called us and we assembled a team to start searching. We found his kayak overturned, floating in the middle of the lake, and we’ve had divers and boats dredging the bottom twenty-four seven ever since.

“Are you kidding me?”

Vincent starts shaking his head immediately. “Nope. I had them email everything over and we’ve got him hours later, on camera, walking into an international airport. He took a flight to the UK, then another to Poland. I’ve already got hits on his passport at both airports. Nothing after that. This fucker ran.”

Now, I’m fucking pissed. We’ve spent so much money to search for this guy, only to find out he faked his death. I’ve been taking calls from his sobbing wife twice a day, unable to give her any updates or news that her husband is deceased. Lane left her with two kids under the age of ten, all thinking he was dead.

“I need everything you’ve got. Miss Burns!” I shout, and it’s as if she was standing just outside my door because she bursts in not even seconds later.

“Yes, Captain?”

Standing up, I take the file from Vincent as he murmurs he’ll email all the photos to me. Following him to leave my office, I say, “Call the DA and tell him I’m heading over to speak with him right now.”

She scrambles to her desk to make the call, and I hurry out of the office. I don’t want her tagging along, so tasking her with the call keeps her planted at her desk.

As soon as I’m in the elevator, I check my phone. I like to send a daily text to Miriam to find out how she’s doing and so far, I’ve managed to do it despite my hectic schedule. The only free moment I’ve taken to myself was to go to her last appointment where her blood pressure has creeped up even more. Her doctor decided she needs to come in every two weeks for monitoring and upped her meds.

We had a scheduled appointment for testing our DNA, but I had to cancel last minute because of this fucking kayaker. Miriam understood and told all of us she’d coordinate a new date.

After meeting with the DA, he decides to wait on formally filing charges against Patrick Lane until we can get in contact with him to find out what the hell is going on. Then, back in my office, I reach out to the sheriff’s department and coordinate a statement that I’ll present in an hour at a press conference.

This time, I can’t shake my shadow, but I decide to put her to good use. Just as I’m straightening my uniform, my phone starts ringing and vibrating in my pocket. It’s loud enough that it’ll be picked up by the mics, so I hand it to her with strict instructions. I never like to turn it off, especially now that Miriam is being moved to a higher risk level for her pregnancy.

“Only answer it if it’s an emergency text or call. Otherwise, just silence the ringer.”

She nods, hugging my phone to her chest and moves to stand out of the way of all the people milling around. I walk up to the front of the room, the DA already waiting along with Mercer. He’s there in case questions are asked that I don’t have an answer to, and he’s been a big part of searching for this guy.

The room quiets down when I hold up a hand.

“Good afternoon. Thank you to everyone for being here. I want to jump right into things. Seventeen days ago, we received a call that Patrick Lane went missing…” I run through details of the case and our search efforts until now. I make sure to thank every department who’s pitched in bodies to assist in the search, as well as local and state volunteers and private companies donating their time.

“Earlier this afternoon, at 12:13, our office received a call from the Canadian Border Services Agency. They flagged Mr. Lane’s passport twenty-seven hours after our initial call to report him missing, while we went directly into rescue or recovery mode in an effort to find him.”

Looking around the room, I grow more solemn. “Mr. Patrick Lane has been confirmed alive and well, which was something we did not expect, given the circumstances surrounding his kayak found overturned on the lake. We were able to track Mr. Lane’s location through airport securities not just in Canada, but in the UK as well as Poland.”

Murmuring fills the room rapidly, but I hold my hand out to quiet them. “I’m sure you’ll all have questions, but please let me finish. We also found out that he moved funds to a foreign bank and took out a $500,000 life insurance policy seven months ago. As of now, this looks like a planned attempt to fake his death and flee the country. The reasons for his actions have not been confirmed as of now, but his wife and children have been informed. We request that you give them privacy at this time to process the new information.”

“Captain Cooper!” Multiple people shout my name, but I point to an older woman right in front of me. She nods and loudly asks, “You said you haven’t confirmed Mr. Lane’s reasons for leaving, but do you have any extra information you’re investigating surrounding possible motives?”

I glance at the DA, who leans in and whispers, “You can share about talking with a woman, but nothing about her or where she lives for now.”

Nodding that I understand, I say, “I can’t go into too much detail, but what we have confirmed is that Mr. Lane had been in contact with a woman prior to him leaving.”

Pointing at another reporter, they jump in with a new question.

“Are any charges going to be filed against Mr. Lane?”

“I’m going to let the DA answer that in a minute. Next?”

Questions fly through the room and I make every effort to answer them, occasionally checking in with the DA and verifying with Mercer before answering over the next twenty minutes. About halfway through, I hear a short ring, and glance to see Sandra holding my phone in front of her, tapping on the screen.

I wait a second to see if I need to step away, but when she looks up and sees me watching her, she just flashes a thumbs up sign that it’s not urgent. Focusing back on the questions, I eventually thank everyone for their time and step back to all the DA to take over and handle the legality concerns.

Leaving the room with Sandra next to me, I hold out my hand. “What was the call?”

“Just our office number. They knew I was here with you, so if it was urgent, they’d have called me or come over here.” Placing my phone in my palm, she smiles sweetly. “Can you believe that what that guy did? I feel so bad for his children, to think their dad was dead this whole time, only to learn they’ve been left behind.”

Humming in agreement, I don’t engage. Because of the mess Lane left us all in, I need to start pulling together cost sheets and expenses so we can figure out how much we spent searching for a body that was halfway around the world.

I receive a text just as I sit down and quickly open it. It’s from Richard in our group thread with Miriam.

Richard: Got it. I’ll write it down.

He’s just responding to the previous texts sent yesterday from Miriam where she answered me.

Me: Checking in to see how you’re feeling today. Energy levels good? Any headaches?

Miriam: A-okay, capitán

I know Richard has been in his head, so he probably wasn’t thinking as he wrote back. I have every intention of being there next week for her blood pressure check. No stress test this time, but I want to get eyes on her for myself.