Dead Woman Crossing by J.R. Adler (best management books of all time txt) 📕

“Carry on,” she said, turning to face her office. She opened the door and twisted open the blinds that looked out into the main office area. She wanted the first glimpse, just in case Sam had a change of heart and decided to haul Henry Colton in early. They were wasting time with this “let’s shake him loose” approach.

Kimberley walked around her desk and took a seat, looking up at the ceiling, swiveling her chair back and forth. There wasn’t much else she could do other than wait. She had talked to everyone that knew Hannah, which wasn’t many. She didn’t really have any friends. Her only family was her mother and her daughter. Her relationship was private, and regardless of what Sam thought, Kimberley knew whoever killed Hannah Brown knew her intimately. This wasn’t random. This was planned. Methodical. She closed her eyes for a moment, mulling over all the facts of the case. Where and when she was murdered—Deer Creek in the wee hours of the morning—indicated their meeting was a secret between them. The murder was quick. A gunshot to the head. So quick Hannah hadn’t seen it coming. Evident by the frozen look on her face, her features in a neutral position, lips slightly parted, eyes open, not too wide, not narrowed, just like she was looking at somebody, somebody she knew, somebody she trusted, somebody she loved. But why the decapitation? Why leave Isobel there? Was it all a ploy to throw police off the scent of the real killer? Them thinking it was a copycat killer led them astray. Kimberley’s eyes snapped open. That’s all it was. It had to be. Sam and Kimberley had spent nearly two days tracking down a potential true-crime obsessive.

Kimberley let out a laugh for being a fool. During the time they wasted, the murderer had been mostly likely covering his tracks, staying one step ahead of the police. How could she have had such tunnel vision? She quickly wiped that thought away. It wasn’t her that had laser focus on the true-crime obsessive, it was Sam. To him, that had been the only explanation. She shook her head and tilted it toward each shoulder, one at a time, to crack her neck. But really, she still didn’t know anything. It was just a hunch.

Kimberley looked down at her desk. A piece of white paper poked out from her keyboard. She slid it out from under. A folded piece of computer paper with “Kimberley” written in the middle in cursive. She didn’t recognize the handwriting. She carefully opened it, revealing a typed note. Her eyes scanned it.

The big city detective might not want to keep poking around something that should be left alone. A single whore, who is no more, is no great loss to anyone… Remember that.

Just like every time I close my eyes, I remember Jessica’s adorable face.

The coffee Kimberley thought she had successfully swallowed pushed its way up from her stomach, burning her throat as it reentered her mouth. She wretched into the garbage can beside her desk a greenish, brown liquid. Sweat beads formed at her hairline. She stood up straight, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand. Grabbing her keys from the top of her desk, she bolted out of her office.

“Where’s the fire?” Deputy Hill said lightheartedly. When he saw the horror on Kimberley’s face, he stood at attention and swallowed hard.

“What’s going on?” he asked.

Sam emerged from his office. “Detective?”

“It’s Jessica!” she yelled over her shoulder as she pushed through the first set of doors.

Sam chased after her, but Kimberley was too fast. By the time he made it out of the police station, she was speeding off, lights on, sirens blaring. A cloud of dust behind her vehicle.

Kimberley drove too fast for the speed limit signs, but it wasn’t fast enough for her. She needed to get to Happy Trails to make sure Jessica was okay. She had dropped her off an hour ago. Could something have happened? Did that fucking sicko do something to her? Did he take her? Surely, the daycare would have called. But maybe they hadn’t noticed.

Kimberley’s phone rang over and over. After the third call, she finally answered. “What?”

“Jesus Christ, Detective. What’s going on?” Sam asked. There was concern and frustration in his voice.

“On my desk is a note. I need it analyzed and brushed for fingerprints.” Her breathing was heavy. She wouldn’t be able to breathe normally or think clearly until she saw Jessica.

“A note?”

“They threatened my fucking daughter!” Kimberley yelled, slamming her hands against the steering wheel.

She could hear Sam running, his footsteps were loud. They stopped and she assumed he was standing in front of her desk. He was quiet. She assumed he was reading the note.

“Jesus Christ,” he said.

In the background, she could hear Sam instructing Deputy Hill to bag it up as evidence. “Careful not to touch it,” he said. It sounded muffled, as if he was covering the mouthpiece.

“What the fuck,” Deputy Hill said, almost inaudibly. He had read the note too.

“Where are you?” Sam said into the phone.

Kimberley swerved her car around a pickup truck that hadn’t moved over and took a sharp right down the road that led to Happy Trails. Just five miles and she’d be there.

“On my way to Jessica’s daycare.”

“Okay, good. Where was the note?”

“On my desk, just the corner of it sticking out from under the keyboard.”

“Shit. I’ll talk to Barb. See if she saw anyone come in after she opened.”

“What about security cameras?”

Kimberley pressed down harder on the gas. But the vehicle was already at its top speed. The wheat fields on either side of the road were a golden blur. She focused intently on the road, although there was no one else on it, nothing to watch out for. Her hands gripped the wheel at ten and two. Her fingers were turning white from lack of blood supply, but she kept clenching