Just the Facts Volume 1

Chapter 4-1

Chapter 4

Over breakfast Monday morning, Michael and Reid avoided any mention of the man who had accosted them at the restaurant the previous evening—and then showed up in front of the apartment building. Michael did go onto the balcony, peering over the railing to make certain the man hadn’t come back.

As soon as they finished eating, Reid said he wanted to go home to change clothes, suggesting they meet at the police station.

“You figure I’m safe out on my own?” Michael asked with a brief smile.

“During the day, in public? Yeah, I do. I doubt he’s going to take potshots at you. If that was his MO, he’d have used a gun to kill Ms. Lee instead of strangling her.”

“Probably,” Michael agreed. “Although a gunshot would have, well, might have been noticed by anyone who was home at the time, like me. At least, I guess I was. I don’t really know since Daniels hasn’t said anything to me about exactly what time it happened other than that it was last Sunday.”

“Probably because the ME hasn’t narrowed it down to a specific timeframe since the body wasn’t found until two days later.”

Michael nodded then suggested Reid get moving so he’d get to the police station in a timely fashion. As soon as he was gone, Michael did the dishes and put the sheets Reid had used into the laundry hamper. Then, after making certain he had everything he needed, he went down to his car. Despite what he and Reid had said, as he got off the elevator Michael paused, checking to make certain the man wasn’t around.

Like I’d know if he was. There’s plenty of cars he could hide behind.

That thought didn’t exactly make his morning, but he decided he was being paranoid. Still, he walked quickly to his car, his shoulders hunched defensively, slid in, and turned the key in the ignition. Moments later he drove out of the garage with a sense of relief. By the time he got to the police station he was relaxed enough that he walked from the parking lot to the entrance without once looking over his shoulder. Reid hadn’t arrived yet, so Michael asked the man at the desk to let Detective Daniels know he was there. The detective had just come into the lobby when Reid dashed in, apologizing for being late.

“You’re certain the man you saw outside your apartment building, and earlier at the restaurant, was the same one who was with Ms. Lee last Saturday evening,” Daniels asked Michael as he escorted them up to the squad room.

“Very certain,” Michael replied. “I might not have been if he hadn’t pulled what he did at the restaurant.”

“All right. Give me the details of what happened and then I’ll put the two of you with our sketch artist.”

They did, after which the detective took them to a room down the hall where the artist waited. The woman worked slowly and methodically, asking questions each step of the way about specifics, until she came up with a drawing that both Michael and Reid agreed looked like the man in question. Then she took them back to the squad room, giving Daniels the sketch.

“Now comes the fun part,” Daniels said. “The mug books.”

“Fun my ass,” Reid grumbled an hour later. He and Michael had gone through the ones Daniels had told them were most likely to have a photo of their man, if he was Ms. Lee’s pimp or one of his people. They came up blank.

“So now what?” Michael asked Daniels when they were finished.

“You go home and get on with your life,” the detective replied.

“What if the guy decides to do more than watch Michael’s place?” Reid wanted to know.

“If you see him anywhere, Michael,” Daniels said, “you call 911. If you’re at home, lock the door. The same goes for work unless he comes inside. If that happens, leave by the rear door and find a safe and very public place to lay low until the officers show up.”

“Me, Carolyn, and all my customers, just in case.” Michael shook his head. “That should be interesting.”

“As long as you’re not there, they should be safe enough. Whoever he is, he’s not going to attack them unless he’s crazy.”

“I think killing Ms. Lee sort of defines ‘crazy’,” Michael replied dryly.

Daniels chuckled. “You have a point, but you know what I mean. My guess is, he’s not going to do anything. If he was, he had two chances, at the restaurant and at your building. Since he chose to show himself, he was probably trying to scare you into keeping quiet if you did recognize him.”

“Which is what I said,” Reid told Michael. “Well, more or less.”

“It didn’t work,” Michael replied to what Daniels had said. “Yeah, I’m not happy but I’m not going to put my life on hold because of him.”

“Understood. As I said, if you do see him again, let us know.”

“I will. Is there anything else you need from me?”

“Not at the moment. Thank you for coming in,” Daniels said.

Michael nodded then he and Reid left.

“Are we still on for tonight?” Reid asked as they walked to the lot where they’d both parked.

“You bet. What time?”

“How about I pick you up around five? That way we can eat first.”

“Sure, but I’m paying. It’s my turn.”

Reid laughed. “Working on that theory, we’ll trade off every time we go out?”

“Maybe?” Michael liked the idea that Reid was planning ahead.

“Good. I’ll see you at five. And Michael, be careful. I don’t think the guy will show up again. Especially if he was around this morning and followed you to the police station, but, yeah, be careful.”

“I plan on it.”

“What are you going to do while I’m slaving away on my next story?” Reid asked.

“Grocery shop. It’s my normal Monday chore.”

Reid frowned. “Maybe I should…”

Michael held up a hand. “Forget it. You can’t keep playing bodyguard. You said it yourself. The chances he’s still watching me are nil. I’ll be fine. Go. Slave. I’ll see you this evening.”

Although he looked as if he didn’t want to leave, Reid nodded and got into his car. Michael watched as he drove away and then went down to his car in the next aisle. Before getting in, he checked the lot and shook his head. The guy would be crazy to be anywhere around here, this close to the police station. Stop being so paranoid. The cops know what he looks like, now. With any sort of luck, they’ll pick him up and, well, arrest him, I guess.

That idea made him feel better. Leaving the lot, he went home long enough to get his shopping list, then headed to the grocery store. He was home again by noon, laden down with enough food and other necessities he’d run out of to last him for the week. More than enough food, actually, because he planned on cooking dinner for him and Reid next Sunday, if their date this evening went well enough to make that an option. If it doesn’t…Not an idea he liked but he knew it was a possibility. It’s barely been a week since we met. We might find out we’re not as compatible as we think we are.

He faced that reality as he put everything away. Then, getting his book, he settled on the balcony to read after checking to make certain the man wasn’t down on the street watching his place again—which he wasn’t.