The Dark Places by R. Whitfield (novel24 TXT) 📕

Parker had still not moved long after Surin had basically run down the hallway. The image of her standing there in her underwear had done things to him he could not hide, especially not in boxer shorts. The ratty singlet had done nothing to cover her firm, round breasts. It had hitched up just above her belly button, allowing him to imagine running his hand across her soft skin; then there were her legs… He stood up quickly grabbing the empty plates and tried to wipe the thoughts out of his mind. He dressed quickly, folded the blanket he used the previous night and sat down on the recliner waiting for her to emerge.

When she finally did, she was all business. Dressed in long navy pants and a crisp white button-up, she had twisted her dark hair into a French roll and clipped it at the base of her neck with a navy hairpin. Her mobile phone was pressed up against her ear — she held it there with her shoulder as she clipped her gun holster around her waist. “Madison,” she mouthed, pointing to her handset. He nodded and breathed a sigh of relief that she appeared to have completely dismissed their last encounter. He sat listening for a few minutes until she hung up and put her phone in the front of her tote.

“How’d that go?” he asked quietly, still not sure of her mood.

“As well as I thought it would,” she said and sighed. “Better the devil you know, right?” she added.

“Apparently,” he said sarcastically.

“Thanks for breakfast.” She motioned to the table. “I don’t get to eat at home much, it was nice.”

Moving towards the kitchen, he watched her cheeks flush slightly with embarrassment. So not totally forgotten, he thought to himself, ignoring the tightness in his pants at the thought of her half-naked.

“My pleasure,” he said with a grin.

She turned to look at him, surprised at his candour and shook her head with a snort. “Not a word, Parker,” she warned, and they both walked out the front door together.

“Where to first?” he asked, sliding into the driver’s seat.

“BPD,” she stated. “Forensics called while I was getting ready. They’ve finished with Lana’s clothing and the stuff they took from her car.” She pushed the radio on and flicked stations to find a song worth listening to. “I thought we should go take a look.” Parker nodded in agreement. They took off down the street, David Bowie’s “China Girl” blaring through the speakers.

***

Each cradling a tray of coffees, Parker and Surin walked onto the floor of the Homicide Section of the BPD and handed them out to the officers sitting at their desks. Dennis looked up and smiled as Surin approached.

“You’re an angel sent from heaven,” he said, grabbing a large cup.

“Yeah, I hear that all the time,” Surin replied, shaking her head. “Long night?” she asked.

“The longest,” he replied and sat back in his chair. “What about you?” he added, casting a look over at Parker who had just sat down at his desk.

“I actually got some sleep for once,” she replied.

He shifted his gaze back to Surin with a smirk. “And a sleep in?” he added.

Surin blushed. “Don’t be a dick,” she said, “it’s not like that.”

Dennis nodded, letting it go. He had slept on Surin’s couch a few times himself.

“We’re going down to evidence to look at the personal possessions from Lana Beau,” Surin continued.

“The attempted abduction?” Dennis queried.

“Well, it wasn’t a failed attempt. It was more like a catch and release,” she corrected.

She sensed Parker before she saw him. He was standing behind her, probably a touch too close. Her face heated again, God she needed to get this under control and this morning’s little striptease hadn’t helped. She turned around.

“We heading down?” he asked casually, looking at her red face with confusion.

“Yep, let’s go,” she answered stiffly, avoiding eye contact with Dennis, and they walked over to the elevator.

Billy Johnson had been manning the front desk of the evidence room ever since Surin could remember.

“Detectives,” he said brusquely, standing as they approached.

“Billy.” Surin nodded.

“What can I do for you?” he said and shifted the mouse, so the computer screen came to life.

“We need the evidence from last night’s case, Lana Beau.”

“Carjacking?” Billy asked.

“Something like that,” Parker replied.

Billy nodded, sat down and tapped away on the keys. For his age, Billy had extremely fast typing skills. There was a rumour going around the department that he actually taught touch-typing night classes at the local college.

“Here it is,” he said gruffly. “Signature, badge number, you know the drill.” He handed Surin a pen and walked past them, swiping his access card to open the evidence locker.

“I remember when it was a simple key to get in there,” Parker said with a smile.

“You and me both,” Billy replied, shaking his head. A few minutes later he re-appeared carrying a box and handed it to Parker.

“That’s it.” He turned and sat back down on his chair, unfolding the newspaper and putting it up, covering his face.

“Thanks, Billy,” Surin said.

“Hmm,” he grunted.

Surin and Parker chose the conference room that was adjacent to their office. She closed the door as Parker put the box on the table, lifting the lid.

“Not much here,” he said, picking up items one at a time and laying them on the table.

Lana’s shirt, jeans and a pair of size eight TOMS were the first things out of the box, followed by a pair of ankle socks, pink underwear and a wallet. Surin opened the purse, flicking through its contents.

“Over fifty dollars here,” she said. “Confirms our theory that this was our guy as opposed to a carjacking.”

Parker nodded. “There’s only a handful of stuff