I See You

Chapter Thirteen

        "I hope you don't mind the couch," Emma said softly, handing him an old patchwork quilt.

        Cody grinned teasingly. "Naw, I'm sure it won't be the last time you make me sleep on the couch, wife," he said with a wink, making her smile grow.

        "You are insane," she laughed, crossing her arms across her chest.

        The movement drew his attention to her ample breasts. So perfect, so lush and more than a handful. He'd be in heaven. Shoving away the thoughts he replied. "Is that any way to talk to your husband?" He teased placing the quilt on the couch.

        "It is if he's being difficult," she retorted. "I guess I need to head up," she took a slow step backwards toward the door. "If you need anything please let me know." she yawned and turned to leave the room. "Good night Cody," she said softly over her shoulder as she left the room.

        "Night Em." He listened to her feet head up the stairs and turned to observe the semi darkened room. The spirit had been strangely quiet since they'd found the matchbox. Cody wondered if that was some sort of nod to him that they were moving in the right direction.

        Quickly he made up a small pallet on the couch, not bothering to pull the bed out. He sat and settled back with his phone. The picture he'd taken of the small slip of blue paper reminded him of the address. Cody frowned at the screen when the address showed up in the Desire neighborhood. Hands down the worst crime ridden part of NOLA. But still this area sounded so damn familiar.

        "But why is it ringing a bell?" He muttered using Google again to find the exact location on a map. "Bingo," he sat up straight and pinched the image to show the lower ward, over near the dangerous part of town known to be the place to go if you wanted something illegal. Drugs, money, prostitutes, nothing was off limits in that part of town. Hell, seventy percent of the murder cases that came across his desk were from Desire.

        So the question was why did an address to one of the biggest dope dens in N'awlins end up in a hiding hole of a retired Postmaster's storage room? Even better, how did it get there?

        Cody seriously doubted that William had been addicted to drugs, or needed a date, and never mind having money issues considering the state's retirement plan. So that meant the killer had left it there.

        He frowned as he recalled Cindy's earlier comment, why leave it here? In a place they wouldn't have twenty-four hour access to? That meant they'd have to either have a consistent way in and out, or they broke in constantly. But wouldn't William have noticed if he'd been having constant break ins? If he did, did the older gentleman report them?

        More questions than answers were making his head hurt. Either way, this was a huge step in the right direction. It was a solid lead, one that needed to be followed up on.

        Damn it, that meant he'd have to call Hank.

        Cody looked at his watch and debated whether twelve-thirty was too late to call an old man. Feeling somewhat petty, Cody dialed the number. After four rings he almost hung up, only to pause when the phone was answered.

        "Yeah?"

        "Hank? I had some business to talk to you about. Wondered if you wanted to meet tomorrow at the precinct to go over the notes for the case?" Cody dropped his head back against the back of the couch and waited for the usual hate filled words, almost wishing he had a bottle of whiskey within reach to ease the headache he just knew was coming from dealing with the old cranky officer. Damn it! Hank was driving him to drink!