Page 8 of The Butterfly Killer

“I wish you’d give this up. She’s gone. Nothing will bring her back.”

Lilianna’s cold words had given him whiplash. As much as they were true, they were also disingenuous.

“You can give up, but I’m not. I won’t ever forgive him,” Marcus had growled through the phone. He’d hung up in a fit of rage.

That had been two years ago. He’d called her drunk in the middle of the night. She’d just given birth but he was going through grief. Both of them had said things they regretted, but also meant.

They didn’t talk unless it was a holiday now. It was for the best. Most days Marcus wasn’t in the mood to reopen the sealed door he’d put on his family. Lilianna wanted to forget and sometimes that meant forgetting Marcus too.

The coffee stopped spitting. He gazed at his reflection in the liquid. His eyes drooped. He looked haggard. But he must continue on.

He turned and was about to start chugging away at the liquid of death when he spotted the FBI agents. They didn’t notice him as they passed by the kitchen and headed down the hall to the room they were using.

“—we just got the examiner’s report back.”

Marcus’s interest was peeked. He glanced around to make sure no one saw him as he followed the agents down the hall. He made it look like he was going to the bathroom.

“Official report?”

“It looks like a match. All signature details are there.”

They were about to close the door when Marcus glanced behind and caught agent Mercer’s gaze.

Mercer rose a brow. “Officer Palmer.”

“Marcus,” Marcus said breathily. It was beginning to get hot but he wasn’t sure if it was his nerves or because someone had turned the AC down. “Just going to the bathroom, sir.”

Mercer looked pointedly down at the coffee cup in Marcus’s hand. “Not with that I hope.”

Marcus flushed. He hoped his dark complexion covered it up, but his luck would have it that it made the blush more prominent. “No, sir. Not at all.”

He wanted to hide the disgusting coffee but it was too late.

Mercer opened the door a fraction more. “Are you still on duty? This late at night?”

Marcus blushed even more. “Late on paperwork.”

It wouldn’t have been his fault if Larry hadn’t ambushed him with shit.

Mercer smiled. It seemed like a rare thing to see. He didn’t look like the type of person who smiled often. “I know that too well.”

He seemed to remanence about something for a second. He looked at Marcus a little differently.

“If you aren’t too busy…” Mercer stepped inside the room.

Marcus perked up. He wasn’t going to be invited in was he? Holy shit. Was he ready for this? Could he possibly?—

“Copy these for us?”

Mercer held a bundle of manila files filled with papers.

Marcus’s hope sizzled away. His gut dropped to the pits of hell.

He gingerly took the bundle of files and tucked them under his arm. “Yeah. Sure.”

Mercer was back to being serious. “Great. Four copies if you will. Thanks.”

He closed the door, the shade on the window waving back and forth as if to mock Marcus even more.

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