Page 39 of Obsession
I blink. “Not sure I would call it exciting.”
The door to James’s office opens, and the man himself barks, “Campbell!”
“Someone’s grumpy this morning.” Jeanine leans in conspiratorially.
“I wonder what he wants?”
“Everyone is salivating for the chance to cover this story.”
“I’m covering the Hammond story.”
She shrugs. “Only one way to find out.”
“Great,” I mutter, blowing out a breath when Jeanine walks off.
I’m not friendly with a lot of my colleagues. Not because I don’t want to be. I just like to keep to myself. It’s easier that way.
As I open the door to James’s office, he gestures impatiently for me to enter while writing something down on a notepad. I’m just about to shut the door when Elliot grabs hold of it, looking pristine in a fitted suit and his blonde curls styled to perfection. Meanwhile, I’m convinced my underwear is inside out. There’s definitely a stain on my black pants from when a slice of cucumber slipped out from my sandwich on my drive to work. I should learn to stop pressing snooze on the alarm.
“Good morning, Savannah,” he says with a disarming smile as he walks past in a cloud of lemony cologne and takes the only seat in the room.
Asshole.
I stand awkwardly beside his chair, watching James place his pen down. His eyes swing between us like a pendulum. “Unless you live under a rock, you have heard the news.”
I swear his words are aimed straight at me.
Always eager to shine, Elliot flashes a smile. “The police called a press conference this morning after a woman was found dead, hogtied and suspended from the rail bridge, with her innards dangling from her body.”
I choke on my coffee. It tastes foul now.
“The method of killing mimics two murders earlier in the year. Samantha Adams, 19, was found murdered by strangulation in March.” Elliot looks over at me. “Rebecca Boehler, 23, was discovered in a very similar way in late July.”
I narrow my eyes on him, causing his smug smile to grow.
Fucking showoff.
“The police put them down as unrelated incidents at first. Until now.”
James nods along, his fingers interlaced on the desk. “Very good, Elliot. Which is exactly why I’m assigning you to this case.”
Now my eyes roll. I take another sip of my coffee, but my stomach knots as I visualize a dead girl hanging hogtied off the rail bridge. I toss the half-full coffee into the trashcan below the window. “Was I needed for this little meeting?”
James scratches his eyebrow, a bead of sweat threatening to slide down his temple. “I want an update on the Robbie Hammond story.”
My gaze clashes with Elliot’s, and he quirks his brow.
I suck on my teeth in annoyance. Fuck him. Robbie will tell me his story. I know he will.
My palms tingle just thinking about him and how he gripped me beneath the table. Gentle one minute and rough the next. I’m sure my cheeks are growing blotchy too.
“I have it under control,” I assure James.
Unconvinced, he stares at me until it physically hurts not to fidget. Elliot covers a laugh with a cough.
“Trust me, Campbell. You’re fired if you don’t bring me a story by the deadline. I want the full story. Every single gruesome, bloody detail.”
“You’ll have your story.”
