Devetko had just raised his hand to knock on Lt. Kincaid's office door when Kristeva lifted his own hand and murmured from the corner of his mouth, "Crazy Cop, Crazy Cop, and hopefully all the crazy cancels each other out...?"
"Shut up," Devetko said, and rapped on the door. A voice told them to enter and he opened the door, letting them in and shutting it behind him. Kincaid didn't even bother looking up at them as he wrote something, so they stood silent until he spoke up again.
"Yes...?"
Kristeva peered surreptitiously at Devetko, and saw the blank look that briefly flitted across his face; he couldn't help but feel a little smug about this, but his own face must have shown it, for Devetko's elbow poked him and he winced. "Sorry to interrupt but we had a few questions about a cold case we've been looking into, and we thought you might have some information that's not in the record."
"Case?"
Even with an absolute minimum of words, their lieutenant always seemed to make his point clear; they both understood he wasn't wondering what they were talking about, but was asking which specific case they meant. Devetko flipped open the folder as if he needed to review it, even though he obviously didn't; Kristeva suspected it was merely a tactic to settle his nerves and appear more composed.
"A missing persons case, Det. Wesley Singer."
Kincaid finally looked up at them, but his expression was as impassive as ever. "That case hasn't been updated since 19**," he said, and the first thing Kristeva thought was, At least he isn't saying the case is closed. Then, "Have you been specifically asked to look into this case?"
Kristeva almost winced, wishing they didn't have to go down that particular road. "His niece requested that we look into it," Devetko said, and he then felt like slapping himself, that he hadn't thought of answering in that manner.
"And Chief Bowen gave the go-ahead?"
Now Kristeva saw a wince almost pass across Devetko's face, and spoke up for him. "He didn't order us not to."
Devetko's eyes shifted toward him and he frowned. Kristeva shrugged back. "Officially, he didn't," he added, and focused his eyes into a pointed glare when the other detective looked ready to protest. Devetko's stare shifted away and they looked back at Kincaid, who was staring at both of them. This went on long enough that the two of them almost started fidgeting, when Kincaid pushed the paper and pen aside and folded his hands on the desk.
"I fielded a call this morning while Chief Bowen was out, something about some sealed records being requested from the city court. The judge wanted to know if they'd proven helpful. I assume they did?"
Silence for another moment as Kristeva and Devetko stared at him. "They did," Kristeva said as soon as he found his voice.
"It's likely most of the information you're looking for was contained in those records, so I'm not sure what else you might hope to find."
Devetko closed the folder and spoke up, his confidence seeming buoyed by the fact that they hadn't been thrown out just yet. "I'm not sure if you've read Det. Singer's report..."
"I have."
"In it he made mention of a concept he called 'bait.' He didn't give much detail but based on context we assume this was the criminal group's method of recruiting new members or obtaining information from outsiders--"
"Utilizing women as sexual favors, yes."
Kincaid didn't offer anything else, just gazed back at them. Devetko finally looked at Kristeva as if requesting backup, or as if utterly confused, he wasn't sure which. The interview hadn't gone at all the way he'd expected just yet, and some perverse part of his mind figured it couldn't hurt to go all out, so that was what he did.
"Evidence is strong that Singer's informant in the group was initially intended to be bait, and we have reason to believe that a woman who was familiar with Mark Kincaid was intended as bait, as well."
This time Devetko didn't even try to hide the grimace that flitted across his face. He knew what the other detective must be thinking--subtlety tended to work far better in such situations--but every time he came face to face with the lieutenant, he kept expecting some kind of explosion, and none ever came, and it was almost like some sort of bizarre challenge by now. He was almost hoping he would get yelled at, at least that would prove Kincaid was human.
Instead, Kincaid still said nothing, just looked back at them.
Kristeva bit the inside of his mouth and gestured at Devetko's folder. "Phil Falcon made mention of her in a newspaper report. Described her a little bit. And said that you were familiar with her yourself--"
"Melissa."
Kristeva shut his mouth and they both stared at the lieutenant for a few seconds.
"What...?"
"First name Melissa," Kincaid said. "No last name given. Introduced herself to Mark at the Falcon's Nest. I wasn't present. He kept quiet about her for a while. Didn't wish to bring her back to the house at first. Eventually she stayed overnight some times. And yes, I know exactly what was going on between them."
"Did you ever talk with her...?" Kristeva asked, more curious than anything.
"Not much. She would try to make conversation but I didn't wish to." Kincaid pulled open a drawer, pulled out a clipboard with a notepad attached and flipped a few pages over, took a pencil out of a cup on his desk and started jotting something down. "At least a few times, she quite obviously seemed to be trying to flirt."
The detectives furrowed their brows. "With you--?" Devetko asked.
"Yes. Always when Mark wasn't around to hear it. So now you see why I didn't wish to engage in conversation."
An awkward pause. "Did you ever tell him about this...?" Kristeva asked.
"There would have been little point in doing so," Kincaid said, not bothering to elaborate.
"Based on the photos, she didn't attend Sgt. Kincaid's funeral," Devetko said.
"That would be because she disappeared shortly before then."
"'Disappeared'--?"
"Nothing like foul play. She spent the night, then left the next morning. That was the last I myself saw of her with Mark. The next day, Mark was dead." He fell silent but continued jotting on the notepad, the pencil scratching noises the only sound in the office. Kristeva and Devetko peered at each other. The flat tone of their lieutenant's voice had always been unnerving, but it was doubly so when he was describing his own foster father's death like he was giving directions to the nearest supermarket.
"And no one ever thought to track her down or question her," Kristeva said.
"Not in a suicide case, no. There was nothing to go on anyway except a first name and physical description."
"Physical..."
"Approximately five-foot-six, slender build, olive complexion, brown eyes, straight dark brown hair to the middle of her back, parted on the side. High cheekbones, slightly slanted eyes. Stylishly dressed and made up, always wore skirts, around thirty years old."
More detailed than some missing person reports. Devetko had taken out his own pen and jotted this on the corner of the folder so Kristeva could see it. He had to admit, it was. "We have the theory that this 'Melissa' person might have been sent after Mark Kincaid to either pump him for info or distract him from his case. 'Bait,' like Singer described it."
"Considering the timing and circumstances, this is a rational conclusion to reach."
"So...you agree with it, then?"
"There isn't enough proof to say for certain either way. If Melissa was sent as 'bait,' though, I doubt Mark was her initial target."
Silence again. Devetko looked almost like he wanted to say something, yet refrained. Kristeva made himself not roll his eyes, and spoke up instead.
"You think you were her intended target." A pause while Kincaid merely continued jotting on the notepad. "And when you didn't play along, she went after Mark, instead."
"Considering the circumstances...this is a rational conclusion to reach."
Devetko rapped the side of Kristeva's hand with his knuckles and tilted the folder toward him. Bait #2, it said.
"Singer had an informant in the criminal group...a woman he never identified. The rumors are that he ran off with her while investigating the case. That she was sent as 'bait,' too. I know you weren't around here just then, but did Mark ever say anything about her to you...?"
"From what little I know, Mark and Det. Singer didn't see eye to eye very much. Thus why they weren't working the initial case together. I don't believe they shared much information with each other. Considering that Det. Singer was likely sleeping with a witness, Mark thought his involvement in things was excessive and a threat to the integrity of the case."
"They didn't get along," Devetko said, frowning.
"They didn't see eye to eye. Different investigation techniques. Det. Singer was off the cuff, Mark was by the book."
The silence that filled the room seemed especially awkward, this time. Kristeva had to make himself not look in Devetko's direction.
"So it's unlikely Mark knew much about her, and he didn't share what he might have known with you."
"That's correct." Kincaid paused from scribbling on the notepad, looked at it for a moment, jotted something else down. "I'm not certain I have anything else that would be of use to you."
Devetko made a surreptitious gesture toward the door with his free hand. "We'll see if we can't dig up more on this Melissa lady," Kristeva said, more as a test just to see what reaction he'd get, though Kincaid didn't even bother looking up from the notepad.
"I doubt you'll find anything, but good luck anyway."
They turned to the door. Then, an echo of what had happened while talking to Trooper Lopata in the hospital, Kristeva turned back around just as Devetko grasped the doorknob. All out, a voice in the back of his head said.
"We spoke with Dr. Steiner earlier and he mentioned that some sort of drug had been found in Mark Kincaid's system during his autopsy. Just trace amounts. But the same drug was found in July Lockett's system after her death, and from the looks of it she'd had long-term exposure. I know you're aware of this already."
Devetko turned back and gave him a look as if to ask what did he think he was doing. He ignored it, since Kincaid had finally looked up from whatever he was writing on the notepad.
"Your point?" he said.
"My point is that if this follows any pattern, Mark probably had long-term exposure to the drug as well. Probably in conjunction with this Melissa person, since Dr. Steiner said you were positive Mark wouldn't take drugs on his own."
"Because he wouldn't."
"And yet he had drugs in his system. This drug, at least. The same drug as somebody else tied in with this case, and both of those people ended up dead."
"Max," Devetko said under his breath.
"Mark was a suicide and July was a homicide," Kincaid said, setting the notepad down in front of him. "And so what connection are you trying to make?"
Kristeva shrugged. "Maybe July was taking too long to do what she was supposed to. Because according to Dr. Steiner, this particular sort of drug makes people vulnerable to suggestion. I know you have your doubts that Mark's suicide was just a suicide." He brushed away Devetko's hand when the other detective grasped at his sleeve, and took a step toward the lieutenant's desk. "The autopsy was a mystery because no injection sites were found on Mark's body. He shot himself through the mouth, right?--which means it was probably messy. A small enough needle can be used in lots of different places, maybe without someone even noticing, if they're distracted enough by a pretty face. Behind the ear maybe?--or in the neck? Maybe something like that could be overlooked even by an experienced medical examiner, if there's a mess and they don't know what they're looking for...?"
The tug on his sleeve this time was hard enough to yank his entire arm back. "Max!" Devetko hissed.
Kincaid just stared at him, hands folded over the notepad. He didn't say anything at first, though Kristeva could have sworn there was the tiniest, subtlest shift of expression in his eyes, and even though he had no idea what it meant, it seemed significant.
"You'd have to ask Dr. Steiner," Kincaid finally said, "but considering the circumstances, that's a rational conclusion to reach."
He didn't say anything else. This time Devetko twisted the end of Kristeva's sleeve so it cut into his wrist rather painfully, and he took a step back to show he was finished. He ignored the glare the other detective gave him as he turned to the door, but Kincaid's voice made them both stop once more.
"Detective--?"
They both looked back. Kincaid tore the top sheet off the notepad, folded it, and held it out, making eye contact with Devetko. Devetko frowned a little but stepped forward to take it from him. "If you'll excuse me, I have some work to get back to," Kincaid said, putting the clipboard away and digging around for something else instead, and the two of them left the office, shutting the door behind them. The DON'T FIDDLE WITH MAGIC sign rattled.
"Do you have no filter at all?" Devetko asked, unfolding the paper as they headed for their desks.
Kristeva shrugged. "I figured, take the chance while it's there, because who knows what mood he'll be in the next time. If there even is a next time." He cast a dark look at his computer. "I meant what I said about looking into this Melissa lady, if that's even her real name, though it's like he said, it must be like looking for a needle in a needlestack..." He looked up and noticed that Devetko had paused beside his chair, staring at the paper with a perplexed look on his face. "What? Did he write you a letter full of swears or something--? Because maybe that's the only way anyone can get a reaction out of him, just have him write it down..."
Devetko lifted his head to look at him, and his frown grew. "Did our lieutenant take an art class...?" he asked, and held up the paper. On it was a pencil sketch of exactly the same quality as one a forensic artist might make, of a vaguely exotic-looking woman with long dark hair and slightly slanted eyes, staring back at the viewer.
Kristeva blinked. "Melissa," he said.
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