Page 27 of Blood and Sand

He was right. I hated to admit it and didn’t like being classified as a victim. All those girls were dead because of me. I wasn’t a victim. They were.

“Well, if it isn’t Dana LaCroix,” Captain Broussard said as soon as we made it through the lobby to Rey’s desk. “Long time no see, beautiful.”

“Hey, Broussard,” I replied, giving him a kiss on the cheek. “How’s Marilyn?”

“Bitching as usual.”

I laughed as he rolled his eyes. One thing about Broussard was that he absolutely hated his wife. Everyone knew he was only with the woman because she had money, and he wanted to retire; he couldn’t do so on a cop’s salary. So, Marilyn’s money was his ticket to rest and relaxation on the beaches of Florida, despite how many times he complained about being married to her for thirty-plus years.

“So, you finally decided to give this asshole another chance?” he asked, motioning to Rey.

“Actually, we both need to speak to you in private, Cap,” Rey said and the Cap’s face turned serious.

I was relieved at the interruption. I had no idea what was happening between us, and I didn’t want to share information with anyone about our new situation.

The captain narrowed his eyes but motioned for us to follow him to his office. “Close the door.” He gestured to the seats in front of his desk. “What’s going on?”

“We’ve had a breakthrough with the serial killer case,” Rey said as we sat in front of Captain Broussard’s desk.

“We?” He planted his forearms on his desk and glared at Rey. “Detective LaCroix, this police department has not requested the FBI’s help. We don’t need the FBI’s help with a serial killer case because we don’t have a serial killer in the parish.”

“Well, Cap, I’m sorry, but the FBI is involved,” Rey said. “The killer is targeting DeeDee.”

He leaned back, his office chair squeaking under his weight. “How is the FBI involved in local matters, Detective LaCroix,” he rubbed his temples, “especially when we haven’t released any information?”

“Rey asked for my help,” I replied. “As a personal consultant.”

“As a personal consultant,” the captain repeated in anger, his face tinting red, a vein bulging at the center of his forehead.

“Before you blow a gasket, Cap, I did what was necessary. Without officially getting the FBI involved, I went to DeeDee for help to get insight into this guy. We couldn’t get shit on him. What did you expect me to do?” Rey said, throwing his hands up in the air in frustration. “I knew DeeDee could help!”

Broussard stood, slamming his palms on the desk. “It wasn’t your place to go to your ex-wife about this case.”

“So, you’d rather these girls keep dying on our watch?” Rey shouted before he took a calming breath. “Look, Cap, I did what I thought was best.”

Broussard sat down and released a breath of his own. “You know theBrassis going to have a big fucking problem with this, LaCroix. Find a way to spin it.”

“He’s targeting me, Broussard.” I placed my hands against my chest. “Me. A Behavioral Analyst for the FBI. What other way do you need to spin it? Now you can get the FBI involved officially because my superiorshave tobe notified that a killer is targeting me.”

“Cap, these women are carbon copies of DeeDee,” Rey said, continuing to plead his case to Broussard. “He’s targeting my wife.”

“Ex-wife,” Broussard countered, steepling his hands.

“My wife,” Rey argued.

The beginnings of a smile tipped the corners of my mouth. Even though we’d been divorced for three years, he still considered me his wife.

Broussard sighed. “Call in your team, Dana.”

Rey stood, and I followed. “Thanks, Cap.”

He held up his hand. “Don’t fucking thank me yet.” He pointed at Rey. “If this goes to hell, LaCroix, it’s your badge.”

“I’m prepared for that.”

“I hope the fuck you are because that’s how all this will end. Now get the hell out of my office.”

“Thank you, Broussard,” I said.

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