“Think they’re related?”
“I think there’s a good possibility. Of course, there’s also the possibility that someone wanted to get rid of the girl, knew the particulars of the cult murders and decided that a copycat killing would be a good way to dispose of the remains. We don’t know much of anything yet. We don’t even have an identification on the victim.”
Carnegie nodded, looked at him, appeared as if he wasn’t going to speak for a moment, then said, “How about the death of your partner? Was there ever anything new on that?”
Jake shook his head, feeling a certain weariness. The old guy had apparently heard all the rumors, too. Well, who the hell hadn’t? There had been an inquest.
“No,” he said simply.
“Sorry, I was so sorry…we’re always sorry to hear about an officer down, but…well, she sounded like a fine woman. But then, no matter how hard you try, there will always be cases where you just don’t get an answer.”
“There will always be some,” Jake agreed flatly. “But not this one. I’m going to stick to this one until the day I keel over.” He rose, stretching out a hand, thanking Carnegie. “If anything breaks, will you let me know right away?”
“Sure. And if you think you can find any answers for me, go right ahead. I’m not a new guy, I don’t protect my turf, and I’m happy to get any help I can.”
This was it. For some unknown reason, Ashley thought, she was out. She had done something wrong somewhere. Sergeant Brennan and Captain Murray were both staring at her very strangely.
“Sit, relax, please, Miss Montague,” Murray said.
She sat. She didn’t relax.
“I’ve studied your file,” Murray told her. Apparently, he was the one who was going to do the talking. But then, he was head of personnel.
“Yes?” she said, waiting.
“You spent several years studying toward an art major.”
“Yes.”
“Why didn’t you complete that degree?”
She frowned. “I decided to apply for the academy.”
“Why?”
Her frown deepened. “Because I have an interest in law enforcement. My father was a police officer.”
“But you’ve maintained your interest in art.”
It was a statement. She felt a cool wave of unease coming over her. They had seen her sketching in class—probably once too often.
She shrugged, trying very hard to remain casual, yet attentive and respectful. “I love art. Of course I’ll always maintain an interest. But I don’t think that’s a deterrent for a police officer. Most police officers have other interests in life, just like anyone involved in any other career. I have friends on the force who…who love boating, and a few who are really outstanding at karaoke. They might have had singing careers, but their real love is law enforcement.”
She was puzzled to see them both smiling.
She stiffened. “If I’m out for some reason, please, just tell me.”
“You’re not out,” Brennan assured her. “You’re an exceptional student, as a matter of fact.”
“You would be leaving your class,” Murray said. “But you could pick up where you left off at any time in the future.”
“I’m sorry. I’m completely lost.”
“I have a proposition for you. We need someone in forensic art. You’d be taking a civilian position, and you’d be directly beneath Commander Allen, who is also a civilian in the employ of the department.”
“It’s a job many people would covet,” Brennan added quietly.
“But I…I’ve had just the basics in forensics,” she told them. “What…what does the work entail?”
“Sketching from eyewitness descriptions, mostly. Photography. Eventually, reconstruction of skeletal remains.”
“I’ve done some photography, but—”
“It’s far easier to teach someone to take photos than it is to find someone with such an incredible talent for human faces.”
She stared at him blankly, trying to take in what he was saying.
Murray smiled. “Forgive me. I reached into the garbage the other day when you tossed a few of your drawings.” He produced a smoothed paper, a sketch she had done of Jake Dilessio. She felt her cheeks burning. “This is an incredible likeness of Jake. There’s more of the man in this than I’ve seen in many photographs.”
“He’s an interesting subject,” she heard herself say.
“Yes. I believe that you’re dedicated to being a cop, Ashley. And as I said, you can always finish up, go back and pick up where you left off. You won’t graduate with your class, but I assure you, nothing you’ve done will be wasted. The job is incredibly interesting—and tough. But no more difficult than it can be out on the streets. And it’s well paid.” He named a yearly salary above what she could make starting out on the streets, and even above what she would be making in several years.
They were both watching her.