Page 3 of The Girl He Wanted

She steeled herself and opened the door.

She knew that Christopher didn't know the news yet. She dreaded his arrival here. She dreaded having to break it to him. Would Sauer tell him everything that had gone on here when he called him with the news, or would he just tell Christopher to get here as quickly as he could.

Paige didn’t know. She needed to get inside and get through the crime scene as fast as she could, to wrap it up before he arrived, so that she could convince him not to come inside. This was one place that Christopher didn’t need to be.

The living room seemed to be the center of the investigation, as a team of the coroner's people was already there. As Paige looked inside, she had to fight back a wave of nausea, memories threatening to overwhelm her.

Jennifer lay there on her back, in the center of a pool of blood, held in place by ropes. The truly terrifying thing was how neat, how untouched, everything else about the living room was. There were no signs of a struggle, as if the killer had taken her by surprise.

Paige froze for a moment as she saw it. Paige knew what had happened because it was exactly the same thing that had happened to her father, back in the forest when she was just fourteen. Someone had drugged him, tied him down, and then carefully, precisely, cut open his major blood vessels to let him bleed out.

The Exsanguination Killer had murdered Jennifer.

Paige gritted her teeth, feeling the anger and sadness welling up inside her. She had seen this before; she had lived through this before. But this time, it was different. This time, it involved her partner's wife.

She scanned the room, taking in every detail, every inch of evidence. She noted the position of the body, the ropes used to tie her down, the precision of the wounds that hinted at the scalpel-like blade used to make the incisions. She took pictures, jotted down notes, and made mental connections.

As she worked, she could feel her emotions hardening her resolve. She would find whoever did this, no matter what it took. And when she did, she would make them pay.

Paige was so engrossed in her work that she didn't hear the sound of the front door opening or the footsteps that followed. It wasn't until Christopher's voice broke through her concentration that she realized he had arrived.

"Paige," he said, his voice thick with emotion, "what's going on? What happened?"

Paige turned to face him, her heart breaking at the sight of him. He looked lost, broken, his eyes red with tears. He must have guessed what was happening. She took a deep breath, steeling herself for what was to come.

"Christopher," she said, her voice steady, “don't come in."

It was too late, though. He was already there, standing in the doorway, staring in horror. Christopher was six feet tall and square jawed, with a muscular frame and boyish features beneath sandy hair. Ordinarily, he was so strong, but now, he looked as though he might break down at any moment.

Paige hurried to him, all but pushing him out of the room, determined to get him away from the crime scene so that he couldn't see any more of this.

But Christopher was stubborn. In his grief, he refused to be moved from the spot where he was standing. He was frozen in place, staring at his wife's lifeless body. Paige could see the pain etched on his face, feel the weight of his sorrow. She knew what he was going through, and it broke her heart.

"Christopher," she said, her voice soft, "you don't need to see this. Let's go outside, get some fresh air."

But he wasn't listening. He was fixated on Jennifer, unable to process what had happened to her. Paige knew that she needed to do something to get him out of the house before he became too distraught.

"Christopher," she said more firmly, "we need to go. Now."

That was enough to get him moving, enough to get him out of there.

As she led him to the kitchen, Christopher's hand shot out to grip hers tightly. It was then that Paige realized how much she had missed this physical contact, how much she had missed him.

"Paige," he said, his voice choked with emotion, "what's going on? Who did this?"

It wasn’t quite the question of an investigator looking for a suspect. It was that of someone who had lost a loved one, looking for any kind of answer.

Paige took a deep breath, knowing that she was the one who would have to tell him the harsh truth. She squeezed his hand, the warmth of his skin providing her with a small measure of comfort.

"It's Jennifer, Christopher," she said, her voice soft. "She's gone. Someone killed her."

He gave her a hard look then, though.

"Not justsomeone. I saw what happened in there. I know what that means."

Paige swallowed back the urge to dismiss it. She knew as well as Christopher did what had happened there. She had to come out and say it.

"She ... I know it seems crazy, but I think she was killed by the Exsanguination Killer, the same way my father was."

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