Harley~
Lyles gave him the side-eye before answering. "Mr. Sykes, if you were well-versed in psychological profiling, you would know Cervantes doesn't match the first victim's profile." Aside from their age gap and criminal records, given Cervantes' ethnicity, if he were running drugs, it would be for the Mexican cartel. And Cervantes would have their initiation tattoo, which he doesn't. In my professional opinion, there is no link to the victims.
That shut the overstuffed shirt right up. Stephanie Lyles is one of our department's finest profilers. Sykes realized he had lost, and he deserved it. Who did he think he was? A satisfied grin crossed my face as his scowl at her was his only comeback. Rae thinks their exchange is amusing as well, and I shush her, but she continues to laugh in my head.
"We will still share any evidence we uncover with the agency." My captain jumps in to make the save. He looks at me in a way I know it isn't a choice. "And I assume this will be a two-way street."
"Of course, Captain," Nelson says. "You will have our full cooperation."
Nelson at least knew when they had worn out their welcome. With the DEA agents gone, my captain focused on me.
He crossed his arms over his chest. "How did you find Cervantes?"
"Belinda traced the glove we found at the scene to Hempfort Corp. Cervantes was a delivery driver for them until a week ago. The manager, Mr. Pilot, says they never recovered the delivery van he was driving nor the supplies that were to be delivered."
Lyles huffed in disbelief. "The stalker took the time to steal a box of high-end medical gloves while executing Cervantes?"
I nodded my head at Dr. Lyles. "It looks that way. Only he didn't know there was a manufacturer's mark on the gloves. There is a manifest of the supplies that were on the van in the file."
Doctor Lyles flipped to the inventory sheet. "There are thousands of dollars worth of supplies here." She said with wide eyes.
"5,000 to be exact. Belinda says that if we find the box the glove came from, she can tie it to the one we found in the bay. Mr. Piolt says he reported the van stolen. I was on my way to impound when the Captain called."
We both looked to Mitch, who scrubbed his hand over his face. "Searching the impound lots can wait. First, we need to return to the docks. Someone might remember the abandoned supply truck."
"That's a good idea. I want to follow up with Belinda, see the glove and the latest body for myself."
"Fine, let me know if you find anything. I will have my two-way with me."
We all three exited the stuffy conference room together. I couldn't be more excited to breathe fresh air again. I would consider myself to be claustrophobic. Since the stalker made an appearance, my fear of tight spaces has redoubled. Though I am not sure of the coalition between the two.
Dr. Lyles heads to the coroner's office. While the captain gathers the troops. We exited the station with detectives Brock and Grave in tow and pulled out. It's a silent and thankfully quick trip to the dock access. Captain Mitch parks, and we all pile out. We headed towards Parker's Pier, where they discovered Cervantes' body.
"Graves, you go with Gibson. Brock, you're with me."
Sunny LA promises a beautiful day. The beach is already beginning to fill with blankets, lounge chairs, coolers, and sunseekers as Sheila and I head off toward the businesses on the boardwalk. The little ones playing in the surf bring a smile to my face. I can hardly wait to have one of my own.
"How is it going with you and Ben?" Sheila asked me casually. The one subject I was hoping to avoid with her.
I shrugged my shoulders without making eye contact with her. "Ben is a wonderful man, but I don't see it happening between us."
I am hoping she will let it go at that, but something is telling me she isn't. We walk into the first shop, which smells of the most wonderful cannabis, and approach the counter. The guy behind the counter is as high as a giraffe's pussy, and it isn't a weed high. His eyes are as big as Grandma's saucers. Rae growls at him, and I shake my head. The things humans put inside their bodies are unreal.
I carried on flashing my badge and showing him the photo of Cervantes. "Have you seen this man?"
Stoner Bob looks at the photo and then up at me with a crooked, yellow-toothed grin. The answer is no. My eyes rolled as he tried again to focus on the photo. "Do yourself a favor and lay off the Tango and Cash," I said with a snarl before we exited and walked on.
"What is wrong with him?"
"Probably fentanyl, or meth." Who knows with the wide variety of drugs LA offers?"
" No, not him, Ben."
"Nothing at all wrong with Ben," I sighed heavily. "I have told no one this yet, but I will be leaving LA soon. I have another job offer."
Sheila goes silent. I can almost see her wheels spinning. She has always had a thing for Ben. I think they would probably make a good match for each other, far better than he and I, anyway. We get to the next shop, and I undergo the same process. At least this guy is coherent enough to dig what I am shoveling.
"Have you seen this man?" I asked, handing him the photo.
It took only a moment. "Yeah," he nods and hands it back to me. "About a week ago."
I stare at him, waiting for him to elaborate, but he doesn't. "Where man?!" I finally blurt out at him.