The Penitent One (Boston Crime Thriller Book 3), Brian Shea [best non fiction books of all time .TXT] 📗

time for dinner. Good news is we’ll have her for the rest of the week after that, so you’ll only have to drive her this morning."

His mother gave a dismissive wave. "You know I don't mind doing this for you and her whenever you need."

"I know," Kelly said. “Just wish you didn’t have to.”

He drained the last bit of his coffee, then kissed his mother on her forehead before grabbing his to-go mug and moving toward the door.

"You be safe out there, Michael Kelly."

"Always am."

Kelly’s early morning commute didn’t take long. Construction had begun in some spots, but he was able to bypass most of it and make quick work of the drive from Dorchester to downtown.

Kelly entered police headquarters through the side access, fob-only entrance and took the stairs to the second floor. The doors to the Homicide unit were always locked, regardless of the time of day or night, a security measure designed to maintain case integrity. The list of authorized personnel was limited. There was a phone on the outside wall where non-cleared members of the department could call in. Nowadays, most usually sent a text message to coordinate their entry.

When Kelly reached the door, he could see a light on through the window.

Typically, he was the first one in. Somebody was either burning the midnight oil or had come in early to work a case.

As he made his way to the main office area, he saw Barnes at their unit’s cubicle cluster, which housed her, Kelly, and Mainelli. He wasn’t surprised to see Barnes; she matched his work ethic and was the one person he could always count on to stay late or come in early, and on days like today, sometimes beat him at both.

"Morning, Kris," Kelly said as he approached.

"Well, look who's dragging themselves in a little late this morning."

"What time did you get here?"

She smiled. "Only a few minutes ago. But that’s because I went for a jog first."

"You went for a run and still beat me here. I’ve got to start upping my game. You're making me look bad." Kelly chuckled.

"I'm not the only one who’s here early."

Kelly looked around and, seeing no one else, furrowed his brow. "What gives?"

Then he heard a toilet flush, and moments later, Sterling Gray exited the restroom. He tossed a paper towel in the trash can and gave a friendly wave. Kelly nodded at the man and looked over at Barnes.

"Don't look at me. He was waiting outside the door when I got here, said he couldn't sleep, wanted to get an early start."

"I did," Gray said as he walked up. "I came in on this investigation behind the power curve and wanted to get caught up on things. I want to look at it from my perspective and see what I can bring to the table so I can make myself useful. If you don't mind, I'm going to head into the conference room."

"You mean The Depot. If you’re going to be part of the team, you’ve got to start using the lingo," Kelly said.

"Yeah, right, The Depot."

They had explained to him the nomenclature used for Homicide's main conference room.

"Give me a few seconds to get settled in,” Kelly said. “I can come in and see if we can put our collective brain power to work, if you’d like?"

"Sounds good to me," Gray said, grabbing his laptop and heading into The Depot. The motion-activated lights kicked on as the agent took up a spot at the table and began looking through some of the files.

"We've got a big day today," Kelly said to Barnes. "Debbie Shoemaker's going to be coming in this morning." He looked at his watch. "Maybe she can give us something useful. I'm going to ask that Sutherland pick some other stand-ins today for the press conference. It’s the other reason I called and got Shoemaker's interview pushed up to 8:00. We've got the autopsy afterward. Then we'll see where it all gets us. I’m not too hopeful about Shoemaker, but I definitely want you in on that interview with me."

"Of course. What are partners for? She's from your neighborhood, right?"

"She is," Kelly said.

"Am I supposed to read any further into that?"

"Nothing between us. Never has been, but she’s definitely flirtatious."

Barnes’s smile broadened. “Flirtatious, as in former love interest?"

"One-sided completely," Kelly said. "And not just me. She had it in for everybody. In particular, Father O’Brien. She chased him around all through high school."

"Funny. And she still attends his services."

Kelly smiled. "I think that's the reason she attends his services."

"Maybe we should consider taking out a stalking order against her." The two laughed.

Kelly sat down at his desk and started to organize his handwritten notes, along with his field sketch from the scene at the church. He then began the tedious task of reading through the supplemental reports completed by the patrolmen assigned to check surveillance and canvass the area around the church.

As of right now, they were batting zeros. Of the three potential surveillance cameras in the area, one was totally defunct, there solely for deterrence purposes. The report documented that no wire was physically attached inside the store that owned it. The other two cameras of interest were reviewed. One was blurred so horribly that the reviewing officer couldn't make out pedestrian traffic within a few feet of the camera, and it was well over forty feet from the church and angled poorly. The last camera, his only hope, came from a barber shop across the street, though it was pointed away from the church’s door. All of the tape had been pulled and placed into a digital evidentiary file for later review, but nothing seemed worth their investigative time at this point.

The canvass conducted by officers going door to door in the neighboring residential section revealed nobody heard or saw anything. A total of forty-eight people had been interviewed so far, and not one person had any information. This caused concern for Kelly. A dead priest with