Chapter 43 Phoenix Burns (Donald Eric POV)
The meeting at the precinct drags past midnight. Agent Johnson wants to review every case file again, every witness statement, every scrap of forensic evidence. Looking for patterns we've already looked for a dozen times.
By the time I'm done, it's nearly one AM. I text Dora: Meeting finally over. Coming by?
No response. She's probably asleep.
I drive to her apartment anyway. Need to see her, need that anchor before I drown completely. The building's dark except for a few scattered windows. I park and take the stairs, muscle memory guiding me to her door.
I knock softly. Nothing.
Try again, louder. Still nothing.
I pull out the spare key she gave me last week. "For emergencies," she'd said, pressing it into my palm. "In case you need somewhere to go."
I unlock the door, pushing it open. "Dora?"
Silence. The apartment's dark, no lights except the streetlamp glow filtering through the windows. I step inside, closing the door behind me.
"Dora?" Louder this time.
No answer. Her laptop bag sits by the couch, but she's not here. Bedroom's empty, bathroom too.
I pull out my phone, calling her. It rings, then goes to voicemail. "Hey, it's me. Just checking on you. Call when you get this."
I sit on her couch, debating. Wait here? Go home? Try calling again?
My phone buzzes before I can decide. Hayes.
"Yeah?"
"Don. Where are you?" Her voice is tight, clipped.
"At Dora's. Why?"
"You need to come to the precinct. Now."
"Hayes, it's one in the morning. Whatever it is..."
"Now, Don. I can't tell you over the phone."
My stomach drops. "What happened?"
"Just get here. Please."
The line goes dead.
I stand, already moving toward the door. Something's wrong. Something's catastrophically wrong, and Hayes won't say what.
I'm reaching for the doorknob when it turns.
The door swings open, and Dora's standing there, face pale, eyes red-rimmed. She startles when she sees me.
"Don? What are you..."
"Emergency at the precinct. Hayes just called." I kiss her forehead quickly. "I'll call you later, okay?"
"Okay. Be safe."
I'm already down the stairs before she can say more.
The precinct's too bright, fluorescent lights harsh and unforgiving. I push through the entrance, and Murphy looks up from the desk.
"Detective. They're waiting in the captain's office."
My chest tightens. Captain's office. Not the bullpen, not a conference room.
I take the stairs two at a time. The hallway's empty, silent except for my footsteps. Captain Hendricks's door is closed, light visible underneath.
I knock once, then enter.
Hayes is there. So is Hendricks. Agent Johnson. Rivera from IA. All of them standing, expressions grave and pitying.
"Don." Hendricks steps forward. "Sit down."
"I'm fine standing. What's going on?"
"Don..."
"Just tell me."
Hendricks exchanges a glance with Hayes. She steps forward, and there's something in her eyes that makes my blood run cold.
"It's Linda," she says quietly. "Phoenix PD found her an hour ago."
The words don't register at first. Just sounds, meaningless syllables.
"Found her?" I repeat.
"In her home. Don, I'm so sorry."
"Sorry for what?" My voice sounds distant, not mine. "She's in protective custody. There's a patrol..."
"The patrol officer fell asleep." Hayes's voice cracks slightly. "Someone got inside. Same M.O. as Robert and Margaret."
The room tilts. Walls sliding sideways, floor dropping out from under me. I reach for something to steady myself, find nothing.
Hayes catches my arm before I hit the ground. "Easy. Come on, sit."
She guides me to a chair. I sink into it, staring at nothing.
Linda. Linda with her warm hugs and maternal lectures. Linda who flew out here just to check on me. Linda who I promised to visit after this was over.
"How?" The word comes out strangled.
"Single gunshot wound to the chest. Close range." Agent Johnson's voice is clinical, detached. "Time of death estimated around eleven PM."
Eleven PM. While I was sitting in that meeting, reviewing files for the hundredth time, someone was killing Linda.
"The patrol officer?" My voice sounds hollow, echoing in my own skull.
"Officer Williams. He admits he dozed off around ten-thirty. Woke up at midnight when his relief arrived." Hayes sits beside me, her hand on my shoulder. "Don, there was nothing you could've..."
"I should've been there." The words rip out of me. "I should've flown back out. Should've insisted she stay here. Should've..."
"You couldn't have known."
"I knew someone was targeting my family! I knew, and I let her go back anyway!" My voice rises, and I don't care. "She told me about the hang-up calls. She said she felt watched. And I just, I made a phone call and thought that was enough."
"Don." Captain Hendricks moves closer, his expression suffused with something approaching sympathy. "You need to take leave. Effective immediately."
"No."
"That wasn't a request."
"I don't care." I stand, Hayes's hand falling away. "I'm solving this case."
"You're too compromised," Rivera says from the corner. "Your judgment's impaired. You can't..."
"It's my family." My hands curl into fists. "My uncle. My cousin. My aunt. Mine. And I'm not stopping until I find whoever's doing this."
"Detective Eric..." Rivera starts.
"No. You want to pull me off this case? Fine. Do it. But I'm not taking leave, and I'm not walking away." I turn to Hendricks. "Sir, with all due respect, I'm the only one who gives a damn about solving this. Everyone else sees statistics and case files. I see my family."
Hendricks studies me for a long moment. Then he nods. "Forty-eight hours. After that, we reevaluate."
"Thank you, sir."
"Don't thank me yet." His voice hardens. "If you do anything stupid, anything that compromises this investigation, you're done. Understood?"
"Understood."
Rivera opens her mouth to protest, but Hendricks cuts her off with a look. "Meeting adjourned. Eric, go home. Get some sleep. You're no good to anyone running on fumes."
I don't argue. Just nod and head for the door.
Hayes follows me out, catching my arm in the hallway. "Don, wait."
"I'm fine."
"You're not." She steps in front of me, blocking my path. "You just found out your aunt was murdered. You're allowed to not be fine."
"I don't have time to not be fine."
"Bullshit." Her voice softens. "Go home. Or go to Dora's. Just... don't be alone right now."
I pull away. "I'll call you tomorrow."
"Don..."
But I'm already walking away, down the stairs, through the bullpen. Murphy says something as I pass, but I don't hear it. Just push through the doors into the cold night air.
My car's where I left it. I get in, start the engine, sit there gripping the steering wheel until my knuckles turn white.
Linda's dead. Someone walked into her house while a cop slept outside and killed her.
Surgical precision. Same M.O.
Whoever's doing this, they're not stopping. They're methodical, patient, picking off my family one by one.
And I can't stop them.
The thought breaks something inside me. I slam my fist against the steering wheel once, twice, three times. The horn blares, sharp and accusatory in the empty parking lot.
I don't remember deciding to drive to Dora's. But that's where I end up, engine idling outside her building, staring at her darkened window.
I should go home. Should leave her out of this. But Hayes is right—I can't be alone right now.
I take the stairs slowly this time, each step an ordeal of mounting grief. At her door, I knock.
She opens it immediately, like she was waiting. Takes one look at my face, and her expression crumbles.
"Don? What happened?"
"Linda." The name comes out broken. "She's dead."
"Oh God. Oh, Don..."
I step inside, and she closes the door behind me. Then I'm collapsing, legs giving out, and she catches me. We sink to the floor together, her arms around me as the sobs tear free.
I cry like I haven't cried since I was a kid. Harsh, ugly sounds that hurt coming out. Linda's face flashes behind my eyes—her smile, her laugh, the way she called me Donnie.
Dora holds me through it, one hand in my hair, the other rubbing circles on my back. She doesn't try to fix it or say meaningless platitudes. Just holds me while I break.
"I'm sorry," she whispers. "I'm so sorry. I'm so, so sorry."