Sam hated this part of the investigation. Any investigation.
They all seemed to go in fits and starts. They'd catch a break on one lead, run it down as far as they could, and then have to wait for the next break. Only rarely did all of the breaks and leads point to the same source from the beginning. On one hand, he did enjoy the mental exercises that were involved with putting the pieces together, forming a complete picture that could then be brought in front of a jury - or at least that pointed at the culprit. But on the other hand, the waiting game wore him down, rubbing his nerves raw. He needed a break, and he knew it. Maybe after this one is over, he thought, I'll get that boat I've dreamed of and sail around the world...
...yeah, right.
He picked up a styrofoam container of what passed for coffee around here. He was shocked to discover that the Sheriff's office didn't even have a coffee pot. He'd gone out and purchased one on his own, but he'd had to travel almost three hours to find a store that even carried one. Being surrounded by Mormons had it's attractions - clean cut, hard working, and invariably honest - but not one of them knew how to make a decent cup of coffee. He didn't understand how folks could be so perky and friendly in the morning without a few milligrams of legal stimulants.
He reviewed again - for what felt like the thousandth time - the sheet in front of him. It was a brief summary of what they had, and it was not very much.
Geography - they knew roughly the area that the Sheriff's Deputy had disappeared. They had flown over the area and seen nothing, nothing out of the ordinary. The road into the canyon terminated not far from where the remnants of the unfortunate deputy were found. And if the road was rutted by significant truck traffic, well, the locals did seem to enjoy their big trucks... There was also the Las Vegas connection, but he wasn't sure what that had to do with anything. That black Tahoe had just up and disappeared. It could be in Nova Scotia by now, but was more likely in some border town chop shop...
Physical Evidence - the bits of metal they'd picked up off the road - the tooth fillings from the slain officer - were really all they had. There was just no way of determining how they had come to be where they were, in the condition they were. He'd been back to where he'd picked them up, but there was no additional evidence, markings, or anything unusual. He felt that there was something there he was missing, but it was proving to be elusive. Just how did someone make a body disappear with such completeness while leaving only tooth fillings? He was baffled by that.
Eyewitnesses - the toughs in Las Vegas had been pumped for all the information they knew. They'd corroborated each other's stories, but it didn't amount to much. Two people calmly dispatching a group of thugs in a professional and efficient manner with no weapons. Ninjas did not simply walk out of the terminal, get set upon by gangsters, and then drive away in a Tahoe into the deserts of Utah. It just didn't happen. Except that it had...
And that was pretty much it. There were dots out there, he knew. He could feel it in his bones - dots just waiting to be connected that would resolve itself into a complete picture. But he couldn't bring the next crucial steps into focus. He was frustrated and tired of waiting.
But this is the part of the game where people make mistakes, he reminded himself. If I make the mistake through not being patient, the whole thing may be over. But if the other side makes the mistake, I'll be on them like a wolf on a wounded deer.
That thought made him smile. He was good at what he did. He just needed to be patient. The break would come. He was in the right place. He could wait it out.
He stood to refresh his coffee which had grown cold. Man, what I wouldn't give for a decent cup of coffee...
They all seemed to go in fits and starts. They'd catch a break on one lead, run it down as far as they could, and then have to wait for the next break. Only rarely did all of the breaks and leads point to the same source from the beginning. On one hand, he did enjoy the mental exercises that were involved with putting the pieces together, forming a complete picture that could then be brought in front of a jury - or at least that pointed at the culprit. But on the other hand, the waiting game wore him down, rubbing his nerves raw. He needed a break, and he knew it. Maybe after this one is over, he thought, I'll get that boat I've dreamed of and sail around the world...
...yeah, right.
He picked up a styrofoam container of what passed for coffee around here. He was shocked to discover that the Sheriff's office didn't even have a coffee pot. He'd gone out and purchased one on his own, but he'd had to travel almost three hours to find a store that even carried one. Being surrounded by Mormons had it's attractions - clean cut, hard working, and invariably honest - but not one of them knew how to make a decent cup of coffee. He didn't understand how folks could be so perky and friendly in the morning without a few milligrams of legal stimulants.
He reviewed again - for what felt like the thousandth time - the sheet in front of him. It was a brief summary of what they had, and it was not very much.
Geography - they knew roughly the area that the Sheriff's Deputy had disappeared. They had flown over the area and seen nothing, nothing out of the ordinary. The road into the canyon terminated not far from where the remnants of the unfortunate deputy were found. And if the road was rutted by significant truck traffic, well, the locals did seem to enjoy their big trucks... There was also the Las Vegas connection, but he wasn't sure what that had to do with anything. That black Tahoe had just up and disappeared. It could be in Nova Scotia by now, but was more likely in some border town chop shop...
Physical Evidence - the bits of metal they'd picked up off the road - the tooth fillings from the slain officer - were really all they had. There was just no way of determining how they had come to be where they were, in the condition they were. He'd been back to where he'd picked them up, but there was no additional evidence, markings, or anything unusual. He felt that there was something there he was missing, but it was proving to be elusive. Just how did someone make a body disappear with such completeness while leaving only tooth fillings? He was baffled by that.
Eyewitnesses - the toughs in Las Vegas had been pumped for all the information they knew. They'd corroborated each other's stories, but it didn't amount to much. Two people calmly dispatching a group of thugs in a professional and efficient manner with no weapons. Ninjas did not simply walk out of the terminal, get set upon by gangsters, and then drive away in a Tahoe into the deserts of Utah. It just didn't happen. Except that it had...
And that was pretty much it. There were dots out there, he knew. He could feel it in his bones - dots just waiting to be connected that would resolve itself into a complete picture. But he couldn't bring the next crucial steps into focus. He was frustrated and tired of waiting.
But this is the part of the game where people make mistakes, he reminded himself. If I make the mistake through not being patient, the whole thing may be over. But if the other side makes the mistake, I'll be on them like a wolf on a wounded deer.
That thought made him smile. He was good at what he did. He just needed to be patient. The break would come. He was in the right place. He could wait it out.
He stood to refresh his coffee which had grown cold. Man, what I wouldn't give for a decent cup of coffee...
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