Page 58 of The Hive Queen

Chief’s fingers drum faster on the table, each tap like a nail in my head. “That’s not much to go by.”

“We’ve also discovered honey at the crime scenes, and a handprint at the garage site, though there are no fingerprints.” I open a new screen with a map of Clearhelm and the surrounding cities, with the murders pinpointed on it, along with the dates of the crimes. “As you can see here, the murders take place a week apart from each other, with Carlitos as the first known death and Alvero as the most recent.”

I click a button, and circles appear on the map, overlapping each other at the center. “If the killer is hunting from a central location, she is most likely living within Clearhelm or on its outskirts.”

Bailey snorts derisively. “So do you expect us to put out a press alert with that grainy photo and tell men with witchblood to beware women who approach them with honey?”

I level a hard stare at him. “Better that than sweeping it under the rug and pretending nothing’s wrong.”

His face turns florid, but Chief Lynch speaks before he can. “No, it’s too late to keep this quiet, but let’s rein it in on using the phrase serial killer. There’s no need to scare the masses before we know more about this monster.”

“As soon as the killer’s MO gets out, the press will hunt down the same cases in other cities and jump to that conclusion, anyway.” Pain throbs in my temples. “Isn’t it better to get ahead of it now?”

“We’ve been monitoring social media, and no one got close enough in the garage for photos to get out. If we withhold the extent of the damage, no one will link the two cases.” Bailey swirls the coffee in his cup. “It will help stop any copycats, too.”

He’s always been fast to come up with ways to hide things from the public. Is that why Chief Lynch brought him in? Because I push too hard for the truth?

“Bailey’s right.” Lynch claps him on the shoulder. “We’re too early in the case to kick the beehive of the press. We’ll only focus on Alvero Müller tonight. He had friends in high places, but he was also known to hire prostitutes after a big windfall in the stock market. We let that slip, and it will keep the vultures looking the other way for a while.”

My temples throb. “I hardly think it’s fair to pin the murder on innocent sex workers—”

“Bailey’s people can make a show of rounding up the usual suspects,” Lynch continues, speaking over me. “It’s time we do a clean-up, anyway. Clearhelm is becoming a popular place to live, and the city officials have been talking about capitalizing on the Bone Yard. We’re the only place right now with that kind of attraction.”

Bailey nods in agreement. “There are things in there that people can’t see anywhere else.”

“There are things in there that eat people alive.” I drop my hands under the desk to hide my clenched fists. “The Bone Yard isn’t a tourist attraction.”

“But it can be, if we put the right spin on it.” Bailey leans back and drapes an arm over the chair next to him. “We’d have to clean up the less savory parts, of course, but that’s why we have your team, Sharpe.”

“I’m not sending my people in there to get killed,” I grit out through clenched teeth. “We have an unofficial agreement—”

“Which means it’s not in writing and can be changed.” Bailey lifts a brow. “But if the JTFPI isn’t up to the task, we can always use contractors to clean up the mess, and I know just the team to hire.”

My stomach sinks with the sensation of the floor dropping out from under me. That kind of job would be a death sentence. Is this Bailey’s way of getting back at Pen for turning down the job he offered?

The Cleaners wouldn’t take on a case like that, would they?

“This is all preliminary talk, but elections are coming up, and people want plans for how to bring more revenue into our fair city, considering how much we’ve lost recently in making repairs.” Lynch checks his watch and stands. “It’s time we speak to the press.”

Feeling like I just got sideswiped by a Mack truck, I close my laptop and slip it into its protective sleeve before I stand.

This is not the type of strategy meeting I expected when I came in. The higher-ups haven’t been happy with how the JTFPI has panned out in recent months, but this came out of left field.

I step around the table to join them, but Lynch’s hand on my shoulder stops me.

My stomach sinks when he nods for Bailey to go out first.

Once we’re alone, Lynch turns back to me. “Look, I know you have your issues with Bailey, but he’s an excellent politician, and you could learn from him.”

I stiffen. Bailey is the last person I want to emulate.

Lynch squeezes my shoulder. “You have a good heart, and your desire to seek justice is something I’ve always admired about you, Gavin. It’s why I backed you in taking over as head of the JTFPI. But you’re stubborn, too, and you don’t like to bend. It makes people uneasy.”

My hold tightens on my laptop case. “I understand, sir.”

He leans in closer. “Play ball, tell them what they want to hear, and pick your battles. Giving a little will help you win when it counts.”

This time, I only nod, because if I speak, I don’t know what words will come out.

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