“Like those hand stamps they’re giving people at clubs nowadays?”
James nodded. “Let’s see if this clip has more info about it.”
He made a few clicks of the mouse, and a closeup of a hand filled the screen. After a few seconds of silence, the camera panned out for a view of the man and the tattoo parlor he sat in. “Where I work, I can’t have visible tattoos. So I choose to get UV ink tattoos done by Mike here at Tattoo Tavern. Getting UV ink tattoos is a way for me to express myself when I go out to clubs and bars, and not have people judge me when I’m at work or out in public with my kids.”
As the camera zoomed back in on his hand, the tattoo artist took a seat opposite the customer. “You ready?”
The hand gave a thumbs up, and the room went black. “Check that out! My skeleton’s almost done.” On the hand, tattooed bones glowed a frosty white.
“All you’ll have to do is carry a UV light around with you next Halloween, and you’ll be set.” The tattoo artist laughed. His gun whirred to life, and James hit pause.
“That has to be what our guy used on this victim.”
Schilling put his hand on the edge of James’s desk and hefted himself out of his chair. “There’s only one way to find out.”
“Right. I’ll send Catherine a message and tell her we’re coming by in the morning.”
“And that we need one of those lights. Don’t stay too late. I need you bright-eyed and bushy-tailed first thing,” Schilling added, reaching to grab his jacket.
“I’ll be ready,” James said.
“Oh, and I’m also going to need you to come to dinner soon. Jeannine won’t stop talking about meeting you. When you get a new partner, you meet each other’s wives. If you don’t do it real quick, wives get pissed. Rookie mistake number one.”
“Tell her thanks, and I’ll think about it.”
Schilling grunted and disappeared down the hall.
James scanned his desk for anything else to keep him busy and away from home.
Mel. His eyes settled on her image, and he carefully lifted the frame. Christmas 2013 was delicately etched in the plain silver border. His throat clenched as he rubbed his thumb over her smiling face. Their matching flannel pajamas and her shimmering Santa hat almost mocked the despair burrowed in his chest. We were so happy. God, I wish you were still here.
Five
“Bridget? Bridge? BRIDGET!” Frustrated, Eva ended the call and tossed the phone into her sparkly clutch. The music was too loud in the hotel bar for Eva to hear the directions her best friend tried to give. “I’ll just wander about until I find her. The place isn’t that big.”
She started the trek from her car to the Ambassador Hotel and scanned her surroundings. Tulsa was like living in a bigger version of a small town. Everywhere she went, she saw someone she knew, and they talked as if no time had passed. They seemed to still know everything about each other. Sure, a lot of that could be attributed to countless hours Instagram stalking, but it made Eva feel comfortable. Tulsa was another trusted constant in her life.
The click of her mother’s stylish, but uncomfortable shoes penetrated the calm and cool August night. Eva couldn’t wait for fall to sweep the golden leaves from the trees. There was no better sound than the crunch of dried leaves on the streets of the city she loved. Her phone vibrated and started to sing, snapping her back to the present. Bridget’s smiling picture bounced on the screen.
“Sorry I hung up on you. The only thing I could hear was the bass in the background.”
“Oh my God, I had to go outside. I couldn’t hear you at all!” Bridget said with a slight slur. “Camden hired some new deejay, Skee or Sky or Skat or something, and he’s suuuuper loud. Tomorrow everything’s going to sound like we’re hearing it through cotton balls.”
“Great.”
“But, you know, temporary hearing loss is a small price to pay for such an amazing event. Why aren’t you here yet?”
“I’m almost there. I have less than a block to go.” She spun around to look at the street sign. “I just turned down Fourteenth Street.”
“But I don’t see you. Did you finally get a new car and not tell me?”
“Like my mom would ever cosign for that,” she joked. “No, I’m walking. I had to park forever away.”
“Because you’re shit at parallel parking.”
“I am. I’m total shit at parallel parking.”
“You are worthless at parking.”
“I don’t even deserve to parking live.”
“Yeah, you fucking suck at parking. What a nightmare. It’s an absolute must that we go over parallel parking one-o-one, because apparently you missed that day, like a decade ago in driver’s ed.” Bridget giggled uncontrollably.
“You’re entirely too honest when you drink,” Eva said. “Wait, I see you. Turn around!”