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after work to still weigh 129 in the morning, but that was okay. She did her best thinking while running and for now, her full belly eased her tension. Evans decided to give herself twenty-four hours to work the case and find out what she could—before she told Lammers anything. It was possible Gina had not really been attacked. She could have taken an overdose of medication, then blamed her ex just for revenge. Gina claimed the attacker had grabbed her neck. Had the ER doctors examined Gina’s body for bruises? Would her medical chart from that night still exist somewhere?
    Evans pulled into the underground parking lot and shut off her car. Even with the air conditioning on, she’d managed to work up a sweat. Would anyone notice? She headed upstairs, thinking about Gina’s insinuations. She’d called Bekker a predator and implied he used his authority as a cop to intimidate women into having sex with him. Could it be true ?
    “Hey, Evans. How did the coma interview go?” Lammers lurked near her desk as she entered the violent crimes area.
    “It was fine until she fell asleep. I’m going back later to try again.” Evans dropped her shoulder bag on the floor and headed for the bathroom, hoping Lammers would go away.
    “Is she credible?” the sergeant called after her.
    “Yes.” Evans hurried down the hall and into the women’s restroom. She glanced in the mirror and frowned. Her short hair—medium copper brown from L’Oréal—had gone limp and her face had a moist sheen. It didn’t matter, she told herself. She was on the job and being pretty just got in the way. She wiped her armpits with a wet paper towel and hurried back to her desk.
    Evans keyed Gary Bekker into the employee database to get a look at his career path. He’d worked as a vice detective for six years, and before that, he’d trained as a detective in the violent crimes division for a year, just as she was doing now. Evans studied his photograph, assuming it was probably a few years old. Military-short, light-brown receding hair, cold blue eyes, and a wide jaw that made up for his disappearing chin. She’d seen him in passing, but he’d been promoted to patrol sergeant around the time she’d transferred into the violent crimes unit. They had never worked in the same department at the same time.
    Only a limited amount of information was available to her, but she now knew Bekker’s address and phone number. She needed a look at his employment records to see if he had any registered complaints or department citations. Would Lammers have access to that file and would she share the information?
    Evans wasn’t ready to take that step. Who in the department would have known Bekker when he was a vice detective? That had to be when Bekker had contact with hookers and drug addicts. Jackson of course would know him, but Jackson had only worked vice for a short while. She thought of Ed McCray, who had just retired after thirty years in the department. He’d been a detective for half of it, including a stint in vice. Evans felt guilty for even thinking of pumping McCray for information. His timely retirement a few months ago had kept her from losing her job to a cost-cutting staff reduction. She owed McCray a favor, not the other way around. Still, she had to call him and find out what she could.
    First, she had to read the file for the original incident. Evans opened the database for patrol reports and keyed in Gina Stahl. A file dated August 3, 2009, appeared on the screen. Evans scanned the details: Officer Keith Markham had responded to a 911 call about an unconscious woman at the Riverside Terrace. Gina’s neighbor had come over to visit and found her unconscious. The neighbor had described Gina as overdosed . Markham had labeled the incident as an attempted suicide .
    Evans printed the report and wondered if Markham was still working patrol. She wanted to ask him a few questions but she had to be careful. If Markham knew who Gina was, he