Page 18 of Blood and Sand

“Very possible. If that’s the case, it would be someone in authority. He’s giving that person the middle finger by dumping bodies there. Like a ‘catch me if you can’ deal.”

Rey nodded, but the ringing of his cell interrupted our conversation. He placed what was left of his sandwich down on the wrapper and grabbed his phone, which he’d clipped to the waistband of his khaki slacks. He looked at the caller id and rubbed his forehead.

“Yeah, Amir?”

By the scowl on his face, I knew this call couldn’t be good. When we’d been together, the late-night phone calls had come way too often. That was the price of being married to a homicide detective—a lot of lonely nights. But I was proud of him. He was a great detective. One of the best in Louisiana.

Late-night phone calls weren’t a good sign, and by the reports on the local news, the parish had been plagued with gun violence for months, along with these killings. I still couldn’t believe the police had been able to keep all these women’s deaths off the national news.

“All right, I’ll see you in fifteen.” Rey ended the call.

“Duty calls, huh?”

I was sad to see him go, but we both had work to do.

I took the final bite of my sandwich, stood, and tossed my trash into the bin sitting next the table.

“Always.” He ran his fingers through his hair before placing it in a bun. “There’s a turf war going on right now.”

“Yeah, I’ve seen the news reports.”

“The rival gangs have been going at each other for months. This will be the third gang-related homicide in two weeks.”

“Damn.”

Tiredness and stress covered his face. That was one thing about working in law enforcement, especially dealing with homicides. No matter what case you were working on, the job never stopped. His job never stopped. It didn’t matter if there was a serial killer; he also had other cases that needed to be solved.

Rey stood, picking up his trash, tossed his unfinished food in the trash bin, and then walked toward the door.

“Thanks for bringing me dinner,” I said when we reached the door. “It was so good.”

He pushed the stray hair that had fallen from my messy bun behind my ear. “No problem. I’ll always take care of you, DeeDee.”

He leaned down and placed a kiss on my forehead before he opened the door and walked out into the hallway. “Make sure you lock the door.”

“I will. Be safe out there, Rey.”

He winked. “Always. I love you, DeeDee.”

My body stiffened. This was the second time he told me he loved me, and it had me more confused than ever.

Rey still loves me. What the hell’s going on?

Without waiting for a response, he walked down the hallway, not looking back. When he stepped into the elevator, I closed and locked the door, then engaged the security latch. With my back against the door, I tried to catch my breath. It finally hit me.

He was serious.

He wanted me back.

I pushed any thoughts of Rey and his confession to the back of my mind. I couldn’t get lost in what was happening between us. The Black women of Louisiana were depending on me to find this bastard.

With a full stomach and the adrenaline flowing, it would be a late night and early morning for me. I might get two hours of sleep.

I strolled over to the end of the bed, and, once again, the photographs of the dead women ensnared me. There was something so familiar about these women.

But what?

After hours of going through photos and Rey’s notes, nothing clicked. I glanced down at my watch. It was well past two o’clock in the morning, but I wasn’t giving up. This guy was smart, but I was smarter.

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