Murders & Romance: A Psychic Detective Romantic Mystery (Isaac Taylor Mysteries Book 5) Lashell Collins (top 10 inspirational books TXT) 📖

— was trying to kill my fiancée at the time. The second — Schiffer — was a serial killing dirtbag who kidnapped, raped, and murdered 16 little girls that we know of. Honestly? I feel pretty damn good about that.”

Newman studied him for a few tense moments.

“And how are you sleeping?”

“I sleep fine.”

“No nightmares?”

“Not about the Lullaby Killer.”

It wasn’t a lie, but it wasn’t the whole truth either. Nightmares of the last moments of the last four lullaby victims — the ones he’d touched — had plagued him a lot over the last couple of weeks. But he refused to mention it to Doc Newman because he knew there was nothing the man could do, short of prescribing something Isaac didn’t want to get dependent on.

Newman stared into his eyes for the longest of moments, and Isaac knew he was evaluating every word, gesture, and nuance.

“If you’d like to talk some more about the loss you and your fiancée have suffered, come see me.”

Isaac narrowed his eyes. “That’s it?”

“That’s it.”

“I’m clear to keep working?”

“You’re short-handed, remember?”

Isaac stared at him, twisting his lips.

Newman grinned. “You’re fine, Sergeant. I’ll be sure to let your lieutenant know.”

Isaac stood and moved toward the door.

“Thanks, Doc.”

He turned to leave, but stopped and took a breath. Then he turned to face him again.

“This helped. With the personal stuff, I mean. Thanks.”

Dr. Newman smiled. “That’s what I’m here for. Door’s always open.”

Isaac nodded and left.

The curtains were drawn, and the bedroom was dark. Just like the rest of the apartment. Gavin looked over at Gerri, who was sleeping peacefully, and he suddenly wondered when was the last time she’d actually slept.

When he’d arrived at her apartment a couple of hours ago, her eyes had been puffy and red, no doubt from crying. But he’d also seen evidence of fatigue — small bags beneath her eyes, and slightly sunken cheeks. She hadn’t been taking care of herself during her grief.

He carefully slid out of her bed and left the room in search of his underwear. Out in the living area, he pulled on his briefs and took note of the pervasive darkness. Well, that sure as hell wasn’t conducive to Gerri’s healing.

He walked over to the windows and opened up the blinds, flooding the space with the bright afternoon sun. Then he picked up the mountain of tissues and discarded water and juice bottles that were scattered around. At least she’d been keeping hydrated while she hid out in the darkness.

As he picked up around her place, Gavin thought about the pain of losing a partner. He remembered it well. And he remembered how difficult it had been to get over. It had taken him a long time, and he knew that it would take Gerri a long time too. But he worried that she was in danger of allowing her grief to take over her life. The way she talked so casually about walking away from a career he knew she loved and had so worked hard for. That was the grief talking. It had to be.

Back when he’d first recruited her for his homicide unit, one of the reasons he’d chosen her was because he’d read about how hard she had worked to prove that she could be just as good a police officer as any man. How her struggle had been even more difficult because of the color of her skin, and the fact that most of the ‘boys club’ only saw a pretty face and a nice rack when they looked at her.

She’d actually had the audacity to write those exact words in her letter of intent when she put in for the position of detective. Gavin had wanted to give her a chance to prove herself.

Just like he’d wanted to give Ike Taylor a chance when everyone laughed and shunned him over the whole trippy psychic thing.

Isaac hadn’t disappointed him. And neither had Gerri. She was an excellent homicide detective, and he was prepared to fight to keep her on the job.

He wandered into her kitchen to throw away all the trash, and then it occurred to him that Gerri probably hadn’t been eating well either.

He opened up her fridge and took inventory. Then he opened up her cabinets and did the same. There wasn’t much, but he spotted a can of chicken and wild rice soup, and pulled it out.

Opening other cabinets in search of cookware, he found a small pot and set it on the stove. Then he dumped the contents of the soup can into it.

He moved about her kitchen with ease, finding spices and slicing fresh mushrooms, and adding them to the canned soup. As he worked his cellphone chimed, and he rushed to the sofa, where his pants still lay, to grab it.

“Trey?”

He smiled as he took the call from his son.

“Hey, Dad. Bad time? I know you’re at work.”

Gavin glanced around Gerri’s apartment and guilt creeped in.

Yes. He should’ve been back at his desk at the PD by now. Instead, he was standing half naked in his grieving subordinate’s living room.

Oh, this would look so bad to Internal Affairs.

“Uh… no. It’s fine. You know I’m never too busy for you.”

He walked back to the kitchen and stirred the soup, turning down the heat.

“What’s up? Everything okay?”

He had a habit of being slightly overprotective when it came to Trey’s emotional well being ever since the divorce. He just wanted to be sure his son was handling things okay after Gavin and his ex-wife split. And with Trey down in Columbus at Ohio State, keeping tabs on his state of mind wasn’t always easy.

“Everything’s cool,” Trey said. “I was just calling before I hit the road. I’ll be home in a few hours.”

“Okay. You pay attention and drive safe.”

“I will, Dad.”

Gavin could hear the eye roll in Trey’s voice.

“Don’t give me that exasperated tone. People are crazy. You pay attention to the other drivers.”

“Yes, Officer,” Trey joked.

“Yeah, and you remember that response too. If you ever get