Hide (Detective Harriet Foster #1)(58)

“You’re Lonergan-ing me,” Li said. She checked her cell phone, scrolling through it. “Nope. I didn’t get a call or text saying that’s what was going down.” She held the phone up so Foster could see it. Li could tell by the blank look on Foster’s face that she hadn’t even thought of calling.

“I couldn’t sleep,” Foster said. “I figured I’d take another look. Did you really want to walk the river at two a.m.?”

“That’s my job, isn’t it?” Li said flatly, not tempering the chilliness one bit.

Li had been in bed at 2:00 a.m., her baby son asleep in his crib, her husband working his thirty-third hour straight in the ER. And if she was being truthful, had she the choice between sleeping in a warm bed and walking the Riverwalk in the dead of night, she would have chosen the bed hands down, but she was a cop. Sometimes quiet nights didn’t happen. Sometimes cases bled into your homelife, and you had to spend 2:00 a.m. down by the river’s edge.

“You’re right,” Foster said. “I should have read you in.”

Li let it sit for a moment. “That kind of goes without saying though, doesn’t it?”

“My mistake,” Foster said. “Next time you’ll get a call.”

Li’s eyes widened. “There’s going to be a next time?”

Foster smiled. “I get hunches. I follow them.”

“All righty then. Next late-night prowl, count me in.”

“Deal,” Foster replied. “Buy you a coffee? A real one, not from the cop pot. As a peace offering.”

Li stood for a moment, studying Foster. If her new partner kept up the pace she was on, she was going to be a prime candidate for burnout. Li could see it in the lines around her eyes, the strain in her neck. Foster was tightly wound and forcing her way through her days. Li had noticed her secreting clips and pins and little things into her pockets. Now she couldn’t sleep, she said. Foster had no idea that Li knew why. Griffin had given her a heads-up about her son’s murder, and of course everyone knew about her former partner. But Foster didn’t talk about any of that. She hadn’t shared a single personal thing about herself, and it didn’t look like she ever would. Li, though, had other plans. She had no intention of working with a stranger.

“You cannot buy me with coffee, Harriet Foster,” she offered lightly. “I want chocolate. Lots of it. But for now, show me what we’re looking at so I can catch up.”

With the smoke cleared, the two went over everything again. Foster took the Riverwalk, paying close attention to the fence gap. Li took the captures from Michigan Avenue the afternoon of the march and running all the way up to the time of Birch’s murder. Rea’s autopsy had been pushed back until noon, which gave them more time to be careful and deliberate.

Li finally disengaged after hours of searching, rolling her chair away from the monitor, running her hands through her hair. “Oh my God, if I have to look at another frame, I’m going to beat somebody down.”

Foster faced her. “So I should have called you in last night, then?”

“Yes, but also hell no. You do you, Foster.” She stood, stretched. “I’m going for shit coffee. Want another one?”

“No thanks.” Her eyes went back to the monitor. “I’m wired enough already.”

Li walked away on leaden legs. “Good call.”

She was back in minutes with a fresh mug of scorched coffee that literally twisted her lips when she took a sip. Li tucked back in front of her computer to pick up where she’d left off. “We have less than an hour till the ME.” Foster nodded but didn’t answer.

“I’m married,” Li said. Out of nowhere, not related to anything. No time like the present, she figured. “With a son. Two years old.” Foster looked up. Li grinned. It was time to ease into knowing each other. “You didn’t ask, I know. But we should know a little about each other. Will, my husband, is an ER doctor at Rush. Very smart, very handsome. Very not Chinese. Also, very busy, rarely home. My mother moved in about a year ago to help with the baby. Walter.” She saw the perplexed look on Foster’s face. “After Will’s grandfather. Don’t ask. My mother wasn’t happy. Still isn’t, but what can she do, right? We call him Wally. It still sounds like an old man’s name. I go by my maiden name for the job. Otherwise, I would have had to do all kinds of paperwork and switch out that strip of masking tape off my locker.”

“Two’s a fun age,” Foster said.

Li snorted. “Is it? When? Because right now it’s a lot, and it’s constant. And my mother, my dear, wonderful, beautiful Chinese mother, is driving us nuts.”

Foster smiled and turned back to her screen. “An ER doctor. Wow. The scheduling alone.”

“Freaking tell me about it.” Li grinned over the rim of her cup. It was a start. Slow and easy wins the race. She tucked in to resume her search. “I’m seeing tons of pink backpacks from this march. Trying to pick out Peggy, even with that red hair, is like looking for a needle in a hundred haystacks.”

Foster was only half listening as the deserted Riverwalk played on her monitor, frames blinking as the moon shifted position or the streetlights above changed color. “I’m not having much luck here either. All I . . .” She stopped, leaned in, her eyes glued to the images. “Wait.”