Warren wasn’t as optimistic as he climbed the stairs into the station house Wednesday afternoon. Six more interviews and he’d not found anything new. He was starting to wonder if they’d catch this guy and if he’d kill again. He wasn’t so lost in the case that he missed seeing Sgt. Moreno pass on her way out for the day. She looked tired, not that he’d ever say it to her, but it made him want to take her home, feed her and tuck her into bed. Then join her there. They’d sleep, eventually. He wanted to stop her and ask her out again, but knew it was a bad idea. Once was acceptable, but to ask again, with nothing having changed, could be considered s****l harassment. That wasn’t his style.
He’d spent a good portion of his evening, well, what time he’d not been thinking about the Snyder girl,
