Page 291 of That Time I Accidentally Became A Serial Killer

Someone powerful.

Someone desperate to cover old sins.

And if Poppy’s right—and she usually is—then if we can find out which cases are missing, we can find the common thread tying them all together.

And maybe, finally, tear down the bastard sitting at the top of the pyramid.

She turns toward me, eyes wild, cheeks flushed, every inch of her lit up with purpose.

I can’t help it.

I spin her around, press her back against the nearest evidence table, and crash my mouth onto hers.

Her gasp is swallowed by my kiss, her hands fisting in the front of my shirt.

“Have I told you how fucking sexy your genius is?” I growl against her lips.

She giggles—sweet and wicked—and it hits me right in the chest, knocking the air from my lungs.

I’m so hard it hurts. I’m so fucking in love with her I can’t see straight.

“Maybe once or twice,” she teases, dragging her hand down my abdomen to my cock, squeezing hard enough to pull a low, wrecked groan out of me.

“Let’s get to work,” she whispers, eyes sparkling like stars shot through with sin.

We break apart reluctantly, boot up two computers, and pull the first of the digital logs.

The first missing case?

Her mother’s.

I look at her, and she looks at me, and in the silent crackle of the air between us, we know?—

This is it.

This is where everything begins to unravel.

The courthouse after hours is a different beast.

Gone is the buzz of voices, the clatter of heels, the occasional chuckle bouncing off the marble walls.

Now, it’s just my footsteps.

Sharp. Echoing.

Each one slicing through the silence.

I hug my bag tighter, hurrying toward the stairwell. The overhead lights flicker, buzzing like they resent me.

It’s fine. Totally normal. Not creepy at all.

A door slams somewhere behind me. I freeze.

“Hello?”

My voice vanishes into the empty hall.

Nothing.

---