Page 32 of Lovely Violent Things

“Sir, you need to see this.” One of the feds points past the grove.

While Alister follows the young agent around the barren stems toward a steep ravine cut through the marsh, Halen talks with Detective Riddick, who stepped up to take charge during Detective Emmons’ absence.

“Christ,” Alister says loud enough to draw others toward the site.

I return my focus to Halen. She’s my only concern. My only reason to work this case is to keep her safe.

Her emotions are muddled today. Like the dark marsh waters blocking the GPS signal on my monitor, my link to her is dulled and muted. Frustration at not being able to read her tightens my jaw.

“Shouldn’t you be more interested in what’s going on over there than the cute forensic profiler?”

I slide a sideways glance at Devyn, feeling her rhetorical question hit the mark and doesn’t require a response.

“Yeah, I don’t blame you.” She sidles up beside me in her wading boots. “Halen is far more intriguing than a smelly marsh, but could you humor me anyway with your thoughts on what happened here?”

Halen laughs—she fuckinglaughs—at something Riddick says, and my back teeth grind. I look at Devyn, then direct a glance at the bare hemlock grove. “What do you want to know?”

She arches a perfect eyebrow in amusement. “I don’t know, you’re the expert. Possibly who did this and why? Let’s start there.”

Halen’s tinkling pixie laugh reaches my ears, and I curl a bandaged hand into a fist. The cuts are healed over, but the sting feels just as raw.

“Wow, they’re really hitting it off,” Devyn comments. “Riddick isn’t that funny. At all. He must be trying to impress her.”

“Well, you know what Nietzsche said.” At her curious expression, I say, “Most people are too stupid to act in their own interest.”

“That sounds dangerously like a threat,” she says, eyeing me, “or like someone who feels threatened.”

A humorless laugh escapes. “Touché. But what if I was referring to myself. Funny how easily philosophy can be misinterpreted.” I flash a smile, then wade through the reeds and lower to my haunches to get a closer look at the hemlock canes.

Using the cuff of my jacket, I nudge one of the white roots that was ripped out of the ground. “They were in a hurry.”

“Professor, a rookie can see the perp was in a hurry,” Devyn says, sarcasm sharp on her tongue.

A smirk tugs at my mouth. “Don’t the locals have their own expert consultant?” I lift my gaze to her. “You should probably get her thoughts.”

Like right now, before I tear Riddick’s spine through his neck and toss it with the rest of the discarded vertebrae in the grove.

“She’s a bit preoccupied right now. Besides, Halen seems to trust your opinion.”

“She thinks I’m a killer.” I rise to my feet. “Do you believe I’m a killer?”

“I don’t know.” She makes a point to look me up and down. “You don’t look anything like a moth to me.”

I smirk and dip low near her ear. “I hide my wings well.”

“Locke, get over here,” Alister commands from his perch on the ravine ridge.

This catches Halen’s attention, and she makes brief eye contact with me.

Devyn glances between the two of us. “Just an observation, but I don’t think it’s your killer nature that frightens Halen.”

I make a sound of amusement. “Show people a reflection of what they fear, and they will question their convictions.”

Devyn lowers her notepad. “Thank you for the lesson, professor.”

“Here’s another,” I say. “Whatever the offender has planned with the hemlock is more important to him than whatever he was hiding down that ravine.”

Her dark brown eyes widen a fraction. “You think it’s something to do with the victims?”

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