Free Corktown by Ty Hutchinson

day?” the man asked.
    “I’m fine, thank you. How can I help you?”
    “Why is Agent Kane investigating the old case and not the new one?”
    “Your information is wrong. She’s working the new case.”
    “That’s not what I hear.” The man took sip from the glass he held. He pursed his lips before swallowing the liquor. “I was informed she visited the jailhouse and spoke with Michael Garrison. After that, she spent time at the FBI field office looking at their case files.”
    “So she’s getting up to date.”
    “Don’t play me. It doesn’t look like she’s investigating the new murders.”
    “She’s one of the best. I have complete confidence in her ability to apprehend our killer.”
    “Is that so?” The man stood up and walked over to a large window with sweeping views of the Detroit River. “Two more bodies showed up this morning. The press will be all over it.”
    “She’s the best option we have right now. She’ll catch him. You have my word.”
    The man turned around and brought a hand up to his chin, feigning deep thought. He looked Reed in the eyes. “Your word? Anything else you care to wager? Your career? Your life?”

 
     
    22
     
     
    Wilkinson and I returned to our hotel at ten that night. He pointed to the lounge. “You interested in a drink before heading up?”
    That sounded great, but at the moment, I wanted nothing more than to change out of my grimy clothing and have a bath. Plus, Ryan and Lucy would be in bed soon. “I’m sorry.” I pointed to my watch. “I want to catch the kids before bedtime.”
    Wilkinson flashed his dimpled smile. “I understand.”
    He had asked the same question every night since we had arrived in Detroit, and I had entertained it only once. I’d had fun. He told me all about his hippie parents and his Berkeley upbringing. He even mentioned his quick stint as a fitness model. I’ve yet to see Wilkinson with his shirt off, but his arms and shoulders did a wonderful job of backing up his claim. We were both buzzed when we finally headed upstairs that night. He kept sneaking peeks at me as we rode the elevator. I was glad he didn’t make a move. I would have been too weak to resist, and he would have woken up in my bed the next morning.
    I didn’t doubt that we would have had fun, but we would be playing in a dangerous area. The truth was, we’d still have to work together. I wasn’t quite ready to screw up our professional relationship should the morning after turn awkward. I admit I liked the attention. What woman wouldn’t? Wilkinson was smart, funny at times, and dangerously good looking.
    I returned his smile. “Tomorrow night, I promise.”
    “Goodnight, Abby.”
    He was also the only agent who called me Abby. I didn’t mind that either.
    When I got to my hotel room, I stripped off my holster and then my bra, leaving my blouse on. It was one of those days where the underwire killed. God, it felt good to let them breathe.
    I made a beeline to the mini-bar and grabbed the bottle of Jameson. It wasn’t the usual stock, so I had a bottle brought up the night I checked in. I poured a glass, neat, and sat on the bed with my back against the headboard. I let the first sip sit in my mouth for a second or two before swallowing. A few moments later, I felt the golden liquor working its way through my body. Calm had come to me. I took another sip, a larger one so I could savor that sweet taste. I started to think about the case but was able to banish it from my mind. I needed to relax. I had taken myself off duty.
    A few sips later, I got off the bed and walked over to the window. The city was beautiful at night. The buildings reminded me of Hong Kong. Here I was, back in the thick of it, investigating a serial killer. And I was away from home. Even with me on East Coast time, I called the kids every night except for the few times Wilkinson and I worked past their bedtimes. I picked up my cell and dialed. I was looking to make good on my