“Thank you,” he said and stepped off to the side.
“Hey, Johnson,” the sergeant called out to an officer at a small table in the corner behind the front desk who was finishing up the last bite of a sandwich, “Can you take this guy back to HSS when you’re through?He’s looking for Bray and Hunt.”
The officer nodded and wiped the crumbs off the table into a trash can below.“Follow me,” he said, his mouth still full.
As he led Carl down a long hallway, they had to dodge multiple people hurrying past them.The officer seemed unbothered by all the activity but Carl was slightly thrown by the frenzied nature of the place.He reminded himself not to react that way when he got to HSS.After all, he was a special agent with a state agency.Even though Homicide Special Section was well-known and highly regarded, they were still just local cops.Hunt wasn’t even that.
“That’s them,” the officer said, pointing as they emerged from the hallway into a giant, fluorescent-lit bullpen.Different units had their own sections with desks pushed together and cheap cubicle dividers were supposed to offer some modicum of privacy The HSS section was halfway across the room.
“You’re not going to take me over?”he asked, mildly offended.
“You’re a big boy,” Johnson said with a snort.“I’m sure you can handle it.”
He turned and left without another word.Carl allowed himself a moment to get over his pique, then tugged his suit jacket down to straighten it out and walked over.
There was one man and three women at the collection of pushed-together desks.Carl had heard of Jessie Hunt but didn’t know what she looked like.And he had no idea who Karen Bray was.
The male detective was aggressively devouring a wrap of some kind.One of the women, who had dirty blonde hair and was likely in her late thirties, was on the phone, having an animated conversation.Another, probably closer to 30, had shoulder-length brown hair.Her bright green eyes studied her computer monitor.Neither of them looked up.
The only one who paid him any attention was a dark-haired woman who looked more like a model than a detective.The neckline of her V-neck sweater was plunging and it appeared to be about two sizes too small.He couldn’t help but be drawn to her assets, which were on full display.
“Hey, fancy suit boy!”she barked at him.“My eyes are up here.”
He tore his own eyes away from her chest, feeling his cheeks suddenly get hot.
“I’m looking for Bray and Hunt,” he said, pretending that he hadn’t just been caught in an embarrassingly awkward display.
“Who’s looking?”the buxom, belligerent woman demanded.
“Special Agent Carl Webb,” he said, holding out his ID for her as he had done for the desk sergeant.“California Bureau of Investigation.”
“What do you want, Agent Webb?”the woman wanted to know.
“It’s special agent,” he corrected.“Are you Bray or Hunt?”
“They wish,” she said with a smirk before looking over at the brown-haired woman, who had turned her attention away from her screen to stare at him skeptically.
“Thanks, Susannah,” she said sarcastically to the beautiful but annoying brunette.“I’m Jessie Hunt.That’s Detective Bray on the phone.What can we do for you, Special Agent Webb?”
Just then, the blonde hung up.She too stared at him expectantly.He knew they weren’t going to like what he had to say but he didn’t really care.
“CBI is taking over your case,” he told them.“It’s now part of an interjurisdictional investigation, which I’m leading.”
“Why the hell are you taking over their case?”objected the woman that Hunt had referred to as “Susannah.”
“It’s probably because there was another murder, only this one was in San Diego,” Bray said.“Isn’t that right, Special Agent Webb?”
On the surface, the detective’s question was reasonable, but the way she almost spat his title back at him was borderline insulting.
“You can just call me Webb,” he replied coolly.“And yes, once SDPD informed us of Sarah Winter’s manner of death, we made the connection to your case and decided it met our criteria for involvement.”
“So, you think it’s the same killer?”Hunt asked.
“If it’s not, then we’ve got quite a coincidence on our hands,” Carl said.“Just like your victim, Winters had her throat slit and there were signs that she was tased before her death.”
“Well, Webb,” Detective Bray said.“You may have driven all the way up here for nothing.”
“Why is that?”he asked, dubious that he had.
