The Detective by Elicia Hyder Page B

hacker.”
    He grinned. “Think it’s Morgan?”
    I laughed. “That would be impressive.” I pulled out a pad of sticky notes. “I need to remember to go check and make sure he got his zombie shows this weekend.” In all caps, I wrote ‘SEE DENNIS MORGAN’ and stuck it to the top of my computer screen.
    My office phone beeped, and Marge’s voice came over the loudspeaker. “Detective McNamara, the State Crime Lab is on line four.”
    “Thanks, Marge. Put ‘em through.” I looked at Reese. “Cross your fingers.” I pressed the blinking line four button on my phone and left the speaker on. “Detective McNamara,” I said.
    Reese got up and closed my office door.
    “Good morning, Detective,” a woman said. “My name is Deborah Jacobs at the State Crime Lab. We met last year on the Hilton murder case.”  
    My brain churned on her name. Deborah Jacobs—brunette, mid-forties, double-D’s. “Hi, Deborah. I remember you. What can I do for you?”
    “I wanted to let you know that we were able to pull a fingerprint off your murder weapon.”
    I bolted upright in my seat. “Oh, really?”
    Reese leaned over my desk toward the phone.  
    “We lifted a right thumb print off the barrel. And we have a match for it.”
    I stood so quickly, I knocked over my office chair. “Who is it?”
    “I’m sending over the info now, but his name is Kyle Anthony Culver. Twenty-seven, lives in Millbrook.” Papers rustled on her end of the line. “He was fingerprinted during a college internship for a weapons vulnerability software company in Raleigh.”
    I slammed my palms down on the desk. “Bingo.”
    Reese backed toward the door. “I’ll get the DA on the phone.”
    “Thank you, Deborah. I owe you my first-born,” I said.
    She chuckled. “Not necessary. Check your email.”
    After disconnecting the call, I downloaded her report to my computer and printed two copies. One of them, I carried straight to Carr’s office. The door was closed, but I walked in anyway. The sheriff was sitting in front of his desk, but I didn’t care.
    The lieutenant’s face flushed red with anger. “McNamara, what makes you think you can just barge in here—”
    I cut him off by slamming the report down on his desk with the full force of my hand. “There’s your shooter, Lieutenant.”
    The sheriff stood and leaned over the desk. “The Withers girl’s murderer?”
    I looked down at him. “Exactly. The State Crime Lab just called.”
    Sheriff Tipper slapped me on the back. “Good work, son.”
    “Reese is getting started with the warrant, sir.” I lowered my head so I was eye-level with him. “I may need you to make a phone call to help push this through, so I can go get this guy immediately.”
    He nodded. “Of course I will. Go get him.”
    I smiled, my heart pounding with excitement. “10-4, sir.”

    * * *
    Within the hour, I had a signed arrest warrant in my hand. In all my years at the department, I’d never seen the wheels of justice turn so fast. Reese and I were escorted in his unmarked sedan by two deputies in patrol cars, and on our drive to Millbrook, Shannon called.
    I held the phone to my ear. “Hey, babe.”
    “Hey,” she said. “How’s your Monday?”
    “Amazing. We finally have a solid lead on that case I’m working on.”
    “That’s wonderful, Nathan.” She paused for a beat. “Unless you’re joking and then it’s not funny at all.”
    I pulled the phone away from my head and stared at it for a second. “Joking?” I finally asked her. “Why would I joke about something like this?”
    “Because it’s April Fools’ Day,” she said.
    I looked at the date on my watch. It was April 1 st . I had no idea. “No. I’m definitely not joking. We’re on our way to make an arrest right now.”
    “Oh, well that’s good. Our office has been rampant with pranks today. Our IT guy had a sign made that said our office printer was now upgraded to use voice recognition software. I stood there yelling at