Catch Me (Detective D.D. Warren, #6)(45)

“And admit we don’t know what we’re doing?” D.D. said.

Alex regarded her strangely. “We don’t know what we’re doing. And we’re not the first new parents who harassed their doctors with middle-of-the-night questions. For heaven’s sake, that’s what they’re there for!”

Alex’s unexpected display of emotion finally caught D.D.’s attention. She took in his salt-and-pepper hair, currently standing on end. The dark shadows beneath his eyes. The gaunt lines of his face.

He looked like hell, a man who hadn’t slept in years. Did she look that bad? Come to think of it, Phil had clapped her on the shoulder four times today with clear sympathy. Suddenly, she got it.

“The baby’s winning!” D.D. burst out.

“That would seem a fair assessment of the situation,” Alex agreed tiredly.

“He’s only ten weeks old. How can he be beating us already?”

Alex eyed their squalling son. “Same way youth always conquers age—better stamina, faster recovery.”

“We’re two strong, intelligent, resourceful people. We can’t be defeated by an infant. I was sure we’d make it until he was at least seventeen and demanding his own car. Which reminds me. When he’s three and wants his own cell phone, the answer is no. And when he’s five and wants his own Facebook page, the answer’s also no.”

Alex stared at her, eyes sunken, cheeks unshaved. “Got it.”

“Did you know the target age for Internet predators is five-to nine-year-old boys?”

Alex’s eyes widened. “No!”

“Yep. Big bad world out there. And more of it than you think is sitting in that sleek little laptop on the table.”

Alex ran a shaky hand through his hair. “Well, wasn’t like I was going to sleep tonight anyway. This from your new case?”

“Yeah, got a sex crimes detective, Ellen O, assisting now. She’s an expert on Internet predators, so she and Phil spent the day poring over reports from the computers of the two vics and talking nerd.”

“Find a connection between the two pervs?” Alex asked.

“Many and varied,” D.D. assured him. “Ironically enough, vics’ computers share so many favorite sites, it’s almost impossible to get traction. It’s not a matter of did they run across each other online, but on how many different websites, user groups, and chat rooms. It’s gonna take a bit.”

“Is Neil still going through the photos?”

“Sadly for him, yes. He made it through the first of six boxes and already looks like the walking dead. Gonna need some stress time for sure. I tried talking to him once today, but he’s not ready yet. Just gotta get through it, he told me.” D.D. sighed, thought of her young squadmate with genuine concern, and sighed again. “I almost admire his na?veté.”

She shifted baby Jack to her other shoulder, resumed rocking. Judging by the whimpering in her ear, Jack didn’t like her left shoulder any more than the right.

Alex stood up. “Want me to take a turn?” He gestured to Jack, who churned his feet fussily.

D.D. rubbed her son’s back, hating not being able to soothe him. It felt both wrong and inevitable. Proof that she wasn’t maternal enough, just as distant as her own parents. Except she didn’t feel cold and dismissive. She hated that her baby was upset. Wanted desperately to do the right thing, say the right thing that would comfort him. So far they’d tried burping, swaddling, rocking, singing, pacing, and driving. Nada.

The baby was winning. And they were old.

“Okay,” she said reluctantly.

Alex crossed to her. “What about the ballistics report?” he asked as he transferred Jack from her shoulder to his chest. “Got anything to conclusively tie the shooting of victim one to the shooting of victim two?”

“Got a note,” D.D. said triumphantly. “Left in first victim’s pocket. Exact same phrase: Everyone has to die sometime. Be brave. Written in the exact same tightly wound script.”

Alex was impressed. Jack was not.

“Maybe we should try going for a drive again,” D.D. suggested.

“Not sure either of us is safe behind the wheel.”

D.D. nodded tiredly. Alex was right about that. They were stupid tired. Which was why they were talking shop. It was the only topic of conversation that came to them naturally.

“Ballistics report should arrive tomorrow,” she murmured.

“Before or after your parents’ plane lands?”

“Crap!”

Alex stopped pacing with the baby. “Was I not supposed to remind you of that?”

“We should just run away,” D.D. said. She couldn’t deal with this. She was too tired and her baby hated her. There was no way she could handle her mother, too.

“I could meet them,” Alex offered bravely. “Pick up Jack from day care, do the honors. Then, if you get stuck at work, it’s not so terrible. You could always meet us later for dinner, something like that.”

“They’ll never forgive me.”

“Yes they will. You’re the mother of their grandson. And when he’s not squalling like a howler monkey, he is the cutest, most adorable, most brilliant baby boy ever. Aren’t you?” Alex hefted baby Jack into the air, gave him a little toss, then caught him again.