“I don’t know. If I hear anything about that, I’ll let you know.”

Rafe relaxed against the railing and considered his question. “The gun might not have been loaded, but I think that’s unlikely. Ephraim Burton doesn’t strike me as someone who’d wave an unloaded gun around. It’s definitely not the same gun he had at the airport last night.”

“How do you know?”

“I got a glimpse of it on the airport’s security footage, and, for starters, the grip is all wrong. Second, his was a revolver, and third”—he made a face at the suppressed weapon’s exterior—“it wasn’t gold, for God’s sake.”

She bit back a smile. “Fair enough.”

“Who carries an actual golden gun?” he grumbled, then winced. “You’re going to get mad at me, but in my experience, it’s mostly women who go for the flashy guns.”

She nodded with distaste. “It’s true.”

“Plus, last night’s gun didn’t have a silencer. It was a Smith and Wesson .38 Special. Snub-nosed. So . . . not the same gun.”

She smiled at him with genuine affection. “I’ve missed you, partner.”

“Same goes. You get yourself a new partner yet?”

“Nope. I’m on desk duty still. Which totally sucks but does allow me to eavesdrop on other conversations. Which is how I heard about this robbery.”

He felt a frisson of relief that he hadn’t lost her yet. “Why wasn’t he carrying this gun”—he pointed to the photo on her phone—“last night at the airport? It’s bigger, flashier, and less easy to conceal, but more powerful than the .38 Special.”

“Maybe he didn’t have it with him.”

“Maybe. Maybe he stole it. It’s gold, for God’s sake. I can’t see him buying a flashy gun like that.”

“Possible. Still doesn’t explain why he used precious seconds to snap the vic’s neck.”

They sat in silence for a full minute, each of them thinking. Rafe ran various scenarios through his mind, chucking the ones that seemed most unlikely. “He got away from the airport last night in some lady’s minivan. June. Can’t remember her last name.”

“Lindstrom,” Erin supplied.

“Oh, right. Have they located her yet?”

Her brows lifted. “You think the gun was hers?”

“I don’t know. But both Gideon and Mercy believed that Burton would kill the woman.”

Erin raised her forefinger. “Hold on a minute.” She scrolled through her contacts, then dialed one of them. “Hey, Tiff, got a minute?”

Should have thought of that myself. Tiffany Snow was their lieutenant’s right arm. Not much happened that the clerk didn’t know about.

Erin laughed quietly. “Sorry. I was rude to swan in with coffee and not bring you anything. I’ll bring you a latte tomorrow morning.” She rolled her eyes. “Yes, of course it’s a bribe. Can you tell me if they found the Lindstrom woman yet? She’s the—” Erin exhaled, shooting Rafe a grim look. “Damn, I kind of knew she was dead, but I didn’t want her to be. Do you know what kind of weapon?” Again she listened, then nodded. “Got it, thanks. Any other bodies turn up? With either gunshot wounds or snapped necks?” She pulled the phone from her ear and muted her end. “She’s checking.”