Page 46 of Killer Knows Best

SPECIAL AGENT FALLON BAXTER

The next day the wind rips through, violent and terrifying, like an angry ex breaking a restraining order.

Jack, Nikki, and I send a flurry of texts throughout the afternoon as we gather intel while in the comfort of our own homes. Buddy and I are snuggled under a quilt when I get a text from Hale that all but threatens our jobs if we don’t materialize before him within seconds.

Within twenty minutes, Jack and I step into the situation room with Buddy trotting beside us, his tail swishing contentedly against my leg. Jack and I jumped into his truck and rode in together. And I’ll admit, Jack looks no worse for wear considering how colorful the previous evening was. He’s back to his usual calm demeanor, hiding whatever thoughts are churning well under the surface.

The late afternoon light filters through the narrow windows and casts shadows across the sleek white conference table.

SAC Hale stands at the head, already waiting for us with his arms crossed, looking more than a little perturbed.

Jack gives him a quick nod as we file in with Nikki right behind us, twirling a pen like it’s a baton.

Hale doesn’t waste time. “We’ve got a rash of bad news, most of which, if not all, is connected to the case.” He clicks the remote, and an image pops onto the screen.

It’s a body in an alley, and by the looks of it, it’s both filthy and crumpled. It’s a young woman with her clothes torn open, who looks as if she’s staring at the sky. She could theoretically be alive, but the infinity symbol carved into her abdomen says otherwise.

“Another body was found downtown. ID says her name is Jeffra Rizzoli, once a teenage runaway who’s spent years using and abusing herself on the streets. Looks like it finally caught up with her.”

“Finally?” Jack murmurs under his breath. “The girl has had a rough ride long before the killer showed up.”

Hale zooms into the infinity symbol outlined in crimson, the sharp lines of the carving stark against the girl’s pale skin. My stomach tightens as I stare at it and a chill crawls up my spine.

Buddy sniffs my way before hopping into the seat next to me, and I give him a grateful pat.

“A shopkeeper found her this morning. As if that wasn’t enough excitement…” Hale continues. “A missing person’s report was filed this morning as well for another woman by the name of Marsha Warren—a local socialite who was headed to dinner last night and hasn’t been heard from since.”

“Just last night?” Nikki scoffs at the thought. “Give it a minute. She’s still sleeping off her hangover.”

Hale doesn’t blink. “Her assistant says it’s uncharacteristic. Apparently, they had some deal where Marsha would text once she got home from her events. If she didn’t, they were to contact the police.”

Jack and I exchange a look.

“Do you think she was a hooker?” I ask, getting right down to brass street-walking tacks. I don’t see why not. We’re all thinking it.

Nikki lets out a snort. “When a person of stature is involved in the profession, they prefer to be called escorts.”

“High-end escorts,” Jack chimes in without missing a beat and Nikki howls out a laugh because of it.

“Leave it to Stone to know the lingo.” She winks his way. “No dig at you,” she adds, glancing at me. “But he had a reputation with all sorts of ladies before you came into the picture.”

I knew that.

“Picture?” Hale’s voice takes on a hard edge, and he looks visibly ticked. “What picture? Are the two of you canoodling? Don’t tell me I have to separate you.”

Jack tilts his chin up defiantly. “Try it, and we might have an accidental misfire right here in the office.”

“Duly noted,” Hale says sternly, but his expression is laced with exasperation. “The two of you had better behave when you’re on the clock.”

“And we’re always on the clock,” Nikki quips, twirling her pen again. “So get creative, would you?”

I tick my head to the side. “You know what they say—romance and homicide go hand in hand.”

“Nobody says that,” Hale growls, looking rather unamused.

“She said it.” Jack shrugs his way and Hale finally cracks a smile, albeit one that looks mildly psychotic.

“All right, enough small talk,” Hale barks. “And yes, Stone, that was a dig at your man parts.”

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