In the Ground (David Wolf Book 14)

3:38?”
Daphne nodded. "That's what I'm saying. If he was buried at 3:38 a.m., he would have stopped transmitting to the towers, even though his phone was still on, until 7:42 the next morning when the battery ran down and it stopped supplying power to the antenna."
"So, that's when our killer buried him," Rachette said. "Could have been killed any time before that point, though."
Daphne shrugged. “That’s your department.”
Patterson’s ankle started getting that pinprick feeling again. She was going to have to elevate this thing soon. Maybe she did need some painkillers.
Everyone was looking at her. She realized they had said something.
"What?"
"I asked you if any of them heard anything," Wolf said.
"About what?"
"Heard any gunshots," Rachette said. “Friday night. Saturday morning.”
"No, sir. Well, honestly I don’t think we’ve gotten around to asking them that yet. Unless Rachette has?”
Rachette shook his head. “No, ma’am.”
"Let's put that on the list for the interrogations," Wolf said.
Rachette scribbled again.
“And how about a phone number for Chris Oakley’s family?” Patterson asked. “I’d like to get that phone call out of the way as soon as possible.”
Daphne tapped and scrolled on the phone. “I’ve got a Pa. P-A. That’s it. Could be his dad.””
“Good enough for now,” Patterson said.
Daphne read it out and Rachette wrote it down.
"So what's next?" Wolf asked.
"Well," Lorber stretched his arms overhead, his hands touching the ceiling. "If you don't mind, I'd like my team to rest a bit. It’s been a long night for Daphne and the rest of the staff.”
"Of course," Wolf said. "That goes for you, too.”
Lorber gestured at Patterson’s leg. "You should get home and rest, too. What are you doing here?”
"I'll be okay.” She blushed at the unintentionally defiant snap in her voice.
Lorber nodded, smiling at her. “After a few hours rest we’ll get started on the GSR match test with these weapons, see if they match with the residue on Oakley’s chin.”
Wolf slapped the ME on the shoulder and walked out of the room. “Let us know if anything else comes up. Rachette, Patterson, my office, please."
Wolf walked quickly down the hall, Rachette on his heels. Patterson struggled to keep up, taking long strides with the crutches. At the end of the hall, they had pushed the button and were already climbing in the elevator when she was only halfway there.
Wolf held open the elevator door and waited. Her left crutch was less stable, as she had to grab it with her cast hand, and it flipped sideways out of her grip. Just barely, she caught herself from falling over when the crutch slipped out of her armpit and slammed to the ground with a loud smack.
She stopped and backed up, having to hop to get it, then slowly lost her balance and fell onto her backside, like she’d just tried a pistol-squat and failed.
"Damn it," she said under her breath.
Wolf was quick to her side, taking the crutch and hooking a hand under her armpit. “You need to go home and rest.”
She popped to her feet and snatched the crutch. “You need to worry about your own job and not me.”
Wolf stared at her. She stared back, punctuating the moment with a cock of her eyebrow.
Wolf walked away toward the elevator, where Rachette still held the door open. They all rode up to the third floor in silence, Rachette burying his nose in his phone and Wolf staring through the elevator door. When they reached the third floor, Rachette and Wolf walked on without her. She took her time, making sure all three points of contact hit the floor solidly as she followed.
Wolf stopped short, gesturing to her office door. "We'll go in here so you don't have to walk so far."
"Suit yourself," she said.
When she walked into the office Wolf and Rachette had already taken seats at her desk.
She hesitated, yearning for the soft cushions of the couch to elevate her foot.
Wolf must have read her. “Yeah, take a seat there.” He twisted the chair to face the couch and Rachette followed suit.
She decided not to argue and sat down, put up her foot, and sighed as the pain, first magnified, swelling, and then ebbed slowly away as the blood pressure eased.
"I'm taking over this investigation," Wolf said.
The words hit her like a slap to the face. "Why?"
"Because you're hurt, Patterson, in case you hadn't noticed."
"I'm hurt, but it's my job to run this investigation. I'm the chief detective."
"I know that, but right now you're injured and I'm taking over. I'm the sheriff, and it's my call."
She went silent.
"Rachette, why don’t you follow up on trying to get hold of Oakley’s parents, okay?”
“Yes, sir.” Rachette left and shut the door.
Patterson's eyes locked on the window, staring outside in defiance. When she finally flicked her eyes to Wolf she saw a gentle gaze that doused some of the fire within her.
Averting his eyes again, she sighed and scratched her forehead. Who was she kidding? She was hurt. Standing in Lorber’s office for just a few minutes had almost done her in.
"Heather.”
“What?”
“I was hoping you might be able to do something else for me.”
She looked at him. “Okay?”
"Could you please create that spreadsheet and report for the council?"
She looked at the stack of papers she’d already taken off his desk, now conspicuously perched on her own, and the anger came back white-hot. "What am I, your secretary? What is it? The woman in the room can’t fight through the pain like a man? I can’t man up and get the job done, so you decide to take me off patrol and stick me behind a desk? You and Rachette have been hurt on the job before and you’ve continued to do your job. You didn’t tap out.”
“I’m not saying that. I’m not asking you to tap out.”
“Damn right you’re not. I’m your Chief Detective. I’m in charge of your detective squad and I’m running this investigation.”
Wolf flexed and squeezed both hands a few times. "I need you to do something much more important than run this investigation.”
“Ha!