Chapter 4—Secrets Revealed

Natalia sat on the blue sofa next to Angela Miller. Her eyes closed tightly, the woman wept loudly and bitterly, her head turned away.

"Mrs. Miller, we're really sorry about your husband" she said carefully and quietly.

The pretty blonde-haired woman now dabbed her eyes and blew her nose, still looking down. "Thank you."

"I just have to ask you a few questions, and I'll be out of your way."

The woman nodded.

"Do you know Al Coleman?"

Angela Miller gathered herself, her eyes still closed. "Yes I do. He's one of the forecasters at the station. Why?"

"Well, we understand he tried to fix the fuses on your Lumina just a few days ago?"

She breathed deeply and dabbed her eyes again. "That's right. Eric was working all kinds of overtime when this storm started coming, so Al came by and took a look at the turn signals on my car. He thought the fuses blew. Then he told me he couldn't change them because they were the wrong kind. I told him not to worry about it. Al is a real sweetheart. Everybody's such a sweetheart over there."

"Mrs. Miller, we checked the car's service records, and the Lumina had been serviced just two days before Mr. Coleman tried to fix your fuses."

She averted her eyes in grief. "I know. The turn signals went out the day after I brought it back from the shop."

"What did you have the car serviced for?"

She never changed her expression. "Just a normal servicing. Lube and oil change and a tire rotation, I think." She now glanced numbly at Natalia. "Why? Is something wrong?"

"We're just trying to find out what happened" she assured her. "So when Mr. Coleman couldn't fix your turn signals, what did you do next?"

Angela drew a deep breath. The shock and grief had numbed her memory. "I took it back to the garage to have the turn signals fixed. Eric was so busy all the time, and neither one of us really knows what to do with these fancy high-tech cars. I mean, we could fix cars years ago, but now with all these electronics, nobody knows what the hell to do."

"Mrs. Miller, do you have any of the receipts from the garage where your car got serviced?" Natalia wanted to know.

She nodded as she stood up. "I'll give you whatever you need." She then came back with a red folder and laid it on the coffee table. "That's some stuff Eric was taking care of. He just puts receipts in that folder and then he takes care of them."

Natalia picked up the folder now. "Thanks, Mrs. Miller. I'd just like to take these back to the lab, if you don't mind." She dipped her head to look into the woman's eyes. "Is there anything else we can do for you in the meantime?"

The woman just stared off into the distance now. "When you find out what happened, please let me know."

"I promise."

Natalia stood and thumbed through crumpled, crushed receipts and bills at the layout table. She suddenly tipped his head up at a folded piece of paper.

Ryan strolled into the DNA lab while Natalia was sorting through the receipts, pink pages, and cards. "So how's it going with the grieving widow?" he wanted to know.

With a gloved hand she picked up a billing statement. "Angela Miller said her husband would stick all the bills and receipts in a folder and then take care of them. This might be why he's been so secretive."

Ryan looked at the green page and sniffed. "Looks like our weatherman had something to hide."

The cybercrimes exhibit lay packed up in its black cases and white portfolios in a corner of the hotel room. Emmie now sat alone in the silence and stared out at the gray skyline. The rain just seemed to match her mood, she thought.

Knowing she probably wouldn't get anything done on the long drive back, Emmie laid these thoughts aside. She poured herself another cup of coffee, her fifth that morning, and perched it on the bunched-up bedspread beside her leg. She then positioned her laptop precariously on her crossed leg. Clicking her keyboard, she brought up her email program. Just to blow off a little steam. Mary, one of her old Quantico friends, was always a good listener.

Hey Chickie!

Sorry it took me so long to get back to you, but I've had lots going on.

As I write this, I'm in Clearwater, Florida at the Law Enforcement Convention. The usual stuff, though I do enjoy these. No FBI hotties in black suits and sunglasses this time. Lots of cute young cops around, though! But we know they're no match for sailors, right?

I'm seriously thinking about looking for another job. I'm just not sure I fit in here in Miami or with the Miami-Dade Crime Lab. The people are nice here, but I really haven't made any real friendships. I'd really miss Lieutenant Caine. He's the best field commander anybody could possibly hope for. And he is just as sweet as can be. You'd love him. But somehow I'm just not getting used to things here. Mary, I'm so sick and tired of being lonely all the time. Besides, they already have a handwriting and check fraud analyst, so I don't do much of that. Mostly AFIS, CODIS, sound analysis, and "Emmie can clean that up!" Ten years of my life dedicated to this, and I feel like a maid sometimes.

And don't get me started on Mr. Stud Muffin in Internal Affairs. He's still slobbering, still holding out hope that I might want to marry him so he can get in with my family and play with my trust fund. He'll probably want me to give him something for his headache every night—HA! But I guess I just learned to ignore him. I'm sure at one time he was a great cop, but I think he's a good example of what happens when politics gets the better of you. Ryan used to talk to me, but I guess I just wasn't easy enough for him and he's gone on to greener pastures. I should just forget him and look for someone else.

Sorry, I just had to get this off my chest. Maybe we just don't get the really big cases here, although if we do, I don't know who gets them.

It's been almost two years now, and I still miss Dex. What I wouldn't give to find out what REALLY happened to him. I think that's the part that hurts the worst.

Give the kitties a kiss for me, and tell Jimmy I said hi. –Love, Emmie.

She clicked on the dropdown menu to send the email just as her coffee tipped over. As she lurched sideways to grab it, the laptop flipped off her knee and fell to the floor with a CRACK!

"Dammit!" She ignored the spreading coffee stain now and picked up the laptop, only to see MESSAGE SENT on the screen. Her heart sank, not knowing just where that message might have gone.

Emmie now clicked the keys, feverishly trying to track her email, to no avail. The hotel's wireless service didn't give her that option. It made her feel helpless. Well, maybe it just went off into outer space, she figured, as she blotted up the mess with a towel.

She stiffened up again when she heard a tap on her door. "Be right there!" she yelled, tossing the brown towel on the floor.

Horatio stood in the doorway with a Styrofoam cup. Without a word he handed it to her.

"Morning Sir. Thanks for the coffee. Please come in."

Her boss strode in. "Morning Miss Stockburne. How's your head?"

She looked at him with an embarrassed smile. "I'm fine. Slept well until Calleigh had to get up at four in the morning. Thanks for coming to my rescue last night."

Horatio smiled. "That officer looked to be too young for you, and we don't want rumors spreading around the crime lab, right?"

"No, Sir."

The Lieutenant glanced out the window now. "I've gotten reports of flash flood watches between here and Miami, so we better hit the road. You ready to check out?"

She motioned to the computer equipment. "All set, Sir. Just have to get a luggage cart, and I can check out and load this stuff up in the Hummer."

He surveyed the equipment. "I'll help you carry these downstairs if you're packed. But we better get going as soon as possible. Local weather says there's another wave of rain coming through. Some of the major roadways are already flooding."

As Horatio pulled up the handle of her two rollaways, Emmie quickly tucked a white portfolio under her arm. "Okay, Sir. I'll help you pack this stuff up."

He kept walking toward the door. "Oh, and when we get on the road, you drive."

"Me, Sir?"

"I'll be on the phone with Delko and Wolfe about the Miller case. And maybe you and I can talk."

Emmie raised her eyebrows as he held the door open for her. "Yes, Sir."