Page 26 of Zero Divergence
“Uh-oh,” Sawyer said. “Did he hang up without saying goodbye?”
“Yep.”
“He didn’t seem like a rude person when we met Friday afternoon.” Sawyer squirted toothpaste on his toothbrush. “This homicide must be a big deal. Who is it?”
“He didn’t say.”
They rushed through their shower and grooming, only stopping long enough for Sawyer to feed Bones while Royce made two mugs of coffee.
“These single-use coffee machines are convenient, but I don’t think the coffee tastes as good,” Royce said when they entered the garage.
“That’s because you like your coffee twice as strong as the average person. I’m sure we can find coffee pods that would give you the kick in the ass you need. Which car are we taking?”
“You don’t want to drive separately?” Royce asked.
“No,” Sawyer replied. “It’s doubtful Mendoza will take the time to look up our home addresses and calculate the feasibility of us carpooling.”
“Yeah, okay,” Royce said. “You drive since you’re a control freak.”
Sawyer grinned instead of denying the accusation since he was guilty as charged. He pulled the key fob from his pocket and unlocked the door. “Where to?”
Royce rattled off the address on Riddick Lane. “Those are luxury townhomes.”
“Yeah,” Sawyer agreed. “Factor in the location plus dispatch calling Mendoza to the scene before us, and I think we’re heading into a cluster fuck of epic proportions. What did Mendoza say beyond giving you the address?”
“He told me to slap you on the ass to wake you up and for both of us to get down to the scene,” Royce replied.
Sawyer snorted. “Yeah, right. It’s weird Mendoza didn’t give you a name, right?”
“Very. He just said we had a big problem, and Humphries having an alibi complicates things even more.”
“A copycat killing?” Sawyer asked. “It’s the only thing that makes sense. Why else would Humphries factor in the chief’s concerns if he’s out of town?”
Royce hadn’t thought that far ahead, but it made a lot of sense. “Christ.”
He’d hoped the early hour would’ve given them a break from gawkers and gatherers, but he was wrong. Even at six in the morning, it looked like every River’s Crossing resident was lined up on the sidewalk in front of their crime scene. They weren’t the only ones out in full force. Royce counted three news vans and spotted Felix chatting with a uniformed patrolman near the police barricade.
Felix glanced over but didn’t acknowledge them. They’d all agreed not to meet or discuss their mission publicly.
“This feels like déjà vu,” Sawyer said. “My first day on the job and my first day after medical leave feel eerily the same. Cryptic directions to report to a crime scene, media frenzy, and a large crowd of spectators.”
“Want me to glare daggers at you and act like a dickhead?” Royce shook his head before Sawyer could reply. “Don’t answer that.”
They showed their shields to the officers acting as crowd control, then strode up the sidewalk to where Officer Bobby Jones stood with his clipboard by the front door of 602B.
“We gotta stop meeting like this, Bobby,” Sawyer said.
“This reminds me of your first crime scene with the SPD,” the African American man with the easy smile said. “You know the routine. Sign in and suit up.”
Royce took the clipboard and entered their names, arrival time, and shield numbers while Sawyer grabbed booties and gloves for them from the boxes Bobby kept by the front door.
“I was just telling Locke how similar the crime scenes felt. And like last time, I bet you can tell me who the deceased is. It must be salacious as hell to garner this amount of attention before the sun is even up.”
“Dispatch didn’t tell you?” Bobby asked Sawyer.
“Chief Mendoza called and just said for us to get our asses down here,” Royce told him.
“Far be it for me to ruin the new chief’s surprise,” Bobby said.