Page 43 of Throne of Secrets

Bartholomew returned, steaming cup in hand. “You need emotional support?” he teased.

Ethan shook his head, lips twitching. “Not me.”

Both detectives laughed. “Smart loophole,” Samson said, rolling his chair closer. “He’s got the look of a wolf, though.”

“Irish Wolfhound, blue German Shepherd mix.”

Samson’s eyes softened. “Can I?”

Ethan nodded. “Go ahead.”

Samson extended his palm for a sniff. Thor’s tail thumped once before a warm lick met his hand. Samson’s face split into what Ethan figured was a rare smile, his hand settling into the dog’s thick scruff, lingering as they chatted.

“Where do I get myself an emotional support dog?” Samson asked, his voice lighter. “This guy just made my whole damn day better.”

Ethan’s voice cut through the moment. “So, what exactly did she find?”

Samson, his hand still buried in Thor’s fur, sighed deeply. “We might have a problem—a big one. Nothing’s hit the media yet.”

Ethan’s tone sharpened. “A problem?” His eyes swept the room, instinct on high alert. “What kind of problem?”

The exchange of looks between Samson and Bartholomew was brief but telling.

“The serial kind,” Samson said flatly. “This goes no further. It’ll be announced in a day or so, I figure.”

Ethan closed his eyes, fingers pinching the bridge of his nose. “How the hell did Star stumble onto a serial killer’s victim? Wait. Does she know?” Ethan asked, already certain of the answer. Star would’ve been anything but composed if she had.

Samson shook his head. “No. And she doesn’t need to.”

“Then why tell me?”

Samson’s hand paused on Thor’s scruff, his voice weighted with honesty. “Because she’s a good person. She told me trouble finds her—and you get her out of it. Seems like you’re her luck.”

Ethan’s lips tugged into a smirk. “I am lucky. And yeah, trouble finds her. She never goes looking for it.”

Bartholomew chuckled. “Samson’s daughter’s the same way. Always in the thick of it.”

“Not like this,” Samson added. “But Lorelei has a talent for chaos.”

Ethan pointed, his voice playful but firm. “Star and your daughter? Never shall meet. Agreed?”

“Hundred percent,” Samson replied, both hands raised. “The world couldn’t handle that disaster.”

Bartholomew barked a laugh. “God help us if they ever do.”

Ethan’s tone sobered. “Do I need to be worried? Was the body staged—like they wanted it found? Do we need extra measures to keep Star safe?”

“We don’t know.” Samson was honest with him. “What we do know is way too little. The labs are backed up with the cases on priority. It’ll take forever to get the forensics back.”

Ethan could make it move faster. He’d make an offer to the mayor to use the private lab Guardian used, via Guardian email communications, of course, and back brief Jason.

Samson’s voice dropped to a near whisper. “No reason to think she’s in any danger, but then again …”

“You don’t know what you don’t know.”

“Exactly,” Samson said, still petting Thor.

Bartholomew leaned in. “Yo, Samson. Maybe we try a different angle. These sickos get a trip out of watching the cops sometimes. Let’s check whatever photos of our crime scenes and look for the same people.”

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