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files on the corner of her desk. “I’m going to stay for a bit.”
    He scowled. He knew her too damn well.
    “Go home to your family. I'll call you if something pops.”
    She watched her partner walk out the door. She knew she was losing it. Too much caffeine and not enough food or sleep. But she couldn’t stop. She was close. She could break this case. Every good cop she knew listened to their gut even if that was the only thing they had to go on. Hers was screaming at her.
    Caroline Newberry was a prominent member of the community. If Lora was wrong and went after her with no evidence, there would be serious consequences to pay, mainly in the form of her career going up in smoke. She had no solid proof that Ms. Newberry had done anything wrong. Just her impression of the woman’s state of mind. Just a feeling of time running out. Just the fact that Ms. Newberry hadn’t been to work in three weeks.
    Her pen drummed a steady rhythm on the desk. She picked up the phone, dialed her partner. “I’m going to have a word with her,” she said.
    “Not alone you’re not. I’ll be there in 15,” Woods said.
     
    “I’m going to regret this, aren't I?” Woods asked as he steered the battered department sedan out of town.
    “You shouldn’t even be here. The boss will either be commending us or firing us tomorrow.”
    He shrugged, shot a quick glance at her, and kept driving smoothly and steadily.
    The rest of the drive was quiet, but alive with the kind of silence that crackled with keyed up energy.
    Woods let her take the lead as they made their way up the sidewalk to the front door. Lora ignored the doorbell and pounded on the massive wooden door instead.
    The heavy door creaked open and they flashed their badges. A big muscular man filled the doorway. “Ms. Newberry’s not here,” he said.
    “Mind if we take a look around?” Lora asked, hand ready to draw her weapon.
    He motioned them inside.
    The tall blond man never said a word as his big body blocked the dim hallway, just reached behind a small antique table, whirled around and fired the shotgun he'd kept hidden. Woods grunted and dropped to the floor. Lora dove to the ground, firing on her way down. The blond man clutched his chest then crumpled to the floor, his blood soaking the Oriental rug that covered the polished wood.
    “Woods?” Lora called out. He was on the floor, a hand clamped down on his lower leg.
    “Clean shot through the calf. I'll be fine. Go get her. I’ll call for backup.”
    Lora was already on her feet and running for the closed door at the end of the hallway.
     
    This was it, Caroline thought hearing the gunshots in the hallway. She pictured Simon's face, knew she'd never see him alive again. They were coming for her. She put a hand on the tank as she watched Trent die for the last time. She closed her eyes. And waited.
     
    Lora threw open the door and skidded to a stop. She gasped, wondering for a moment if what she was seeing was real. Doctor Caroline Newberry was squatting on a metal platform, looking down in a trance, cardiac syringe and paddles arranged neatly next to her. Directly in front of Lora was a large glass tank filled with water. And a man inside. On the bottom of the tank.
    Lora raced up the stairs. Caroline Newberry slowly turned towards the unexpected visitor. Lora didn't hesitate, just reached out, grabbed her arm, and flung her down the stairs. Caroline hit the floor and didn’t move.
    Lora slid the panel open, dove into the tank, and grabbed the man under the arms. She kicked upwards and pulled the lifeless body to the surface then heaved him onto the small platform.
    He wasn't breathing and she couldn't find a pulse. She started in on the chest compressions, alternating with rescue breaths. Oh God, how much time had gone by? How long had he been in the tank?
    She thought of her partner bleeding in the hallway, of the dead body lying next to him, of Nathan Barlow – so confident that his brother was still