And then he said the words he in no way expected to ever say again.
“I think—I think we’re going to be okay.”
Det. Daniel McWhellen
Tuesday, July 7
It had been a long day.
But then, they all had been long lately. Paperwork was the worst part of police work, and he had a long way to go on the Stratford case. Still, he was about to go home for the day. His fiancée had rented The Godfather and Goodfellas, his two favorite movies, to celebrate his first real case being closed.
He was going to pick up a case of beer on the way home. And maybe some Pall Malls. He used to smoke. Started in high school. But now he’d cut down to the occasional celebratory cheap cigarette, which he relished like some people relished fine wines or fancy chocolates.
Colin, the new guy at the station who handled some of the easier administrative tasks, pushed the mail cart by Daniel’s office.
And then he rolled the cart back. He was always doing that sort of thing: missing bits and pieces here and there, running into things with his cart, spilling coffee and mugs of hot tea on important papers . . .
“Sorry, Detective McWhellen. Almost missed you.” He handed Daniel a package and two envelopes, neatly rubber-banded together. “Have a good night, okay?”
He pushed the squeaky cart farther down, stopping at the next office.
Daniel tossed the bundle on his desk and grabbed his briefcase. The mail could wait until tomorrow.
But it was only three things. It would be easier to get it over with.
He slid the rubber band off his mail. The package fell onto the floor, but he ignored it in favor of the other envelopes. The first was a credit card application. He tossed it into the shredder. The second was an invitation to the summer ball. Grudgingly, he tucked it into his pocket for his fiancée. She would be upset if he didn’t tell her about the department’s annual soiree. She lived for that sort of thing.
He knelt down and picked up the package, and then sat down in his chair.
It was a plain bubble mailer. It had been sent July 3. He slipped a finger beneath the flap to tear it open, and a small flash drive fell out. A flash drive and a typed note on the plainest of papers.
Everything you need to know about Stratford.
He stared at the paper. He set his briefcase down on the floor.
And then Daniel plugged the flash drive into his computer.