“Like in the classic horror movie?” My brain practically hums as the intel pours in.
Jason, thinking the question was directed toward him, speaks. “…a 1979 film nominated for an Academy award. A less successful remake was made in 2005.”
“Thank you, enough.” Her blond hair flies as she shakes her head. “Sounds like this guy is messing with us.”
Spidey senses exploding. I stare at the screen. “We need to pass on this one, love.”
She must not have heard me. “Jason, can you ask my dad to loop us into the investigation?”
“Done.” The avatar ignores me as well.
“No.” I grab her chin, turn her head, and make sure she can read my lips in case something plugged up her ears.
Shaking out of my grasp, she leans into the computer. “Jason, can you call the detective in charge on the scene?”
The avatar blinks and for a moment and I think he may be siding with me until he opens his mouth. “The FBI is currently taking over. There is some dispute over jurisdiction.”
I grab her arm. “Let them do it.”
“Suds, I can’t let this go. The killer knows who we are. He has our IP address which means he can find out where we live.”
I’d like to argue but her logic is on the money. Dammit. How the hell does she get herself in so deep?
In the past, Sam and I would’ve hopped in the car and driven to the crime scene but things being what they are, it isn’t an option.
She must feel me tense because she pats my arm then holds my hand. “We can do this virtually.”
A man with an FBI jacket replaces Jason on Sam’s computer. “Special Agent Holden here. Who am I speaking to?”
Sam pipes up before I can get a word in edgewise. “This is Samantha Russo and my partner Sebastian Sutcliff. I had Jason send you two other related cases as well as emails I believe were sent by your killer.”
“Give me a moment.” As we wait, I pray he’ll give us his blessing to continue. Otherwise, Sam will forge on without it.
“Where are you located?” Thick dark brows furrow over intelligent blue eyes and stare out of her screen.
“Right now we’re quarantined at home in Brooklyn. Can you have someone send us crime scene photos?”
“There’s nothing. No forced entry. The victim was strangled while on a Zoom meeting. What’s your interest?” He sends us a link and Sam opens it as he frowns.
My wife is a danger magnet. I don’t say this out loud because I could find myself sleeping on the couch and I’m very much looking forward to more sex.
Sam purses her lips, deep in thought, no doubt wondering how much to reveal. “My dad, Police Chief Russo, gave me a cold case to investigate. The killer must’ve found out and sent me those emails. I think it’s safe to assume he has some mad high-tech skills. Even now, he may be listening in. We should switch to a more secure line.”
“Agreed. I’ll send you everything. Thanks for the extra set of eyes. Half of my force either has the virus or is quarantined.”
Before we can fully absorb the situation, the downstairs buzzer rings and a couple guys bring up my treadmill and weights.
Oh shit. I may have overestimated the amount of available space and when my wife comes out, she groans.
“Seriously, sweetheart?”
“I know, I’m still arranging stuff. I got it covered.”
She don’t look convinced and I have to admit, it looks bad. “Maybe I can move everything into the living room.
“How about the loft?”
I picture hauling weights up the staircase and shake my head.
