Daddy's Little Killer

Chapter 6

Chapter 6

 

I turned away quickly. Shit! If Briscoe noticed my reaction to Orion, he didn't say anything. 

"We might have a hard time getting inside if they won't let CSD in there," Briscoe said. "Shall we, Eriksson?"

"Not without Forsythe." I ignored the urge to hop in the bubble car and race back to the airport at its top speed of fifty-five. What was Orion really doing in D.C.? Had I been suckered into coming here after all? The bits of truth I shared about my father churned in my gut, a stinging hornet's nest of swelling nausea. 

"I'll introduce you." Briscoe cupped my elbow and led the way toward the ongoing argument dead center on the lawn. I could still feel Orion's eyes burning through my back, but was determined to ignore it. I had a right to be here. From the look of things, Orion was nothing if not a person of interest in the case, perhaps even the prime suspect.

Dirty cop. Nobody will believe anything he says about you, Helen. Stop worrying about Todd and his lame attempt to lure you into bed. For all you know, that's all it was. A chance meeting between two lonely people. The part of my psyche that tries to soothe me into complacency more often than not simply pisses me off. 

Bullshit. My brain was screaming at its kinder cells. Dad's opinion on coincidence was that there was no such thing. I didn't want to believe. I don't want to believe. Am I really so off my game that I missed all of this? Warning signs were screaming at me from the get-go, from the moment those thugs grabbed me in the hotel lobby.

I groaned softly. Should've called hotel security to verify that story. Orion could've set up the whole scenario to get close to me. Stupid! Stupid, Helen!

"Forsythe," Briscoe nodded curtly, "Daltry, Rogers."

"What the fuck are you doing here, Briscoe?" Rogers dismissed me with barely a glance. "And who's the broad?"

He was certainly old enough for that particular sexist slur to be part of his vernacular. "Eriksson," I said, thrust a confident hand forward, "Dr. Helen Eriksson. I'm a criminal profiler. Commissioner Hardy asked me to take a look at the crime scene. If you gentlemen will excuse us, I believe Lieutenant Forsythe and I need to look inside the house. Shall we, lieutenant?"

His eyes tightened in an expression of admiration, perhaps of my grit or my shrewd side step of the ongoing battle for control. He stepped around Rogers and fell into cadence at my side.

"George did a good thing getting some outside help."

"Thank you. I haven't signed the contract yet. I suppose you could say this is my job interview."

He laughed softly. "Leave it to Hardy." Humor evaporated as quickly as it appeared. "Did Briscoe tell you why this is such a mess?"

"The old case? Hmm," I nodded. "If I have to get physical to get past Myre at the door, do you think it would help or hurt my chances of getting a contract in Darkwater Bay?"

"It might get you a medal, maybe a parade."

"He's as incompetent as he looks?"

"Oh yeah," Forsythe exhaled his opinion on a sharp breath. "I doubt he'll put up a fuss. He might think he's on par with Rogers, but the guy is a complete moron."

I followed Forsythe up the sidewalk to the front door.

"Myre," Forsythe greeted with a curt nod. "This is Dr. Helen Eriksson. She's a criminal profiler George hired to help us close this case once and for all. He wants her to take a look at the scene."