I nod. It might not turn up anything, but it’s worth checking. I’m sure Greer will be thrilled to have more work land on his desk. I wish I was joking, but he always takes on more than he should. Not even Six can get him to slow down. He’ll burn himself out one day.
“Did you get the pictures of the first victim?” I ask Maverick. While he didn’t originally deal with the first kill, we sent him everything he’ll need to evaluate and compare the two crimes. Nothing about the first crime touched any of our desks. A slam-dunk murder with an easy-to-find killer. Except that hidden underneath is a potential darkness no one could have predicted.
It’s why we exist.
“Yeah.”
Maverick doesn’t elaborate, and I resist the urge to rub my forehead. Not with these gloves on, and not after touching her. “And?” I prompt.
He lets out a deep sigh, his chest expanding and stretching his black button-down shirt. “He was angry when he killed Veronica.”
Can’t argue with that. “Not with Anderson?”
He shakes his head. “No. It was more methodical. Planned to a T.”
Spencer’s hip leans against mine. “You think it’s the same killer.”
“You don’t?” There’s mocking and a challenge in Maverick’s words. They stare at each other, locked in a war only someone with a sibling can understand.
“Anderson’s guy is sitting in jail,” I say, interrupting this before it turns into some weird bet. Wouldn’t be the first time. “He was convicted and thrown in a cell. We can’t discount the copycat through”
“It’s not a copycat,” Maverick says with a grunt.
I nod. My thoughts as well. “We should make an appointment to visit the prison.” I’m curious to know just what he’ll say about his innocence.
“This is turning into a mess,” Spencer says wryly, giving me a smile that makes my heart skip a beat. Those lips, and that fucking dimple, could convince me to walk right into an active volcano.
“It started a mess. It’s turning into a total clusterfuck.” How many others has this psycho killed? I’d bet my left nut that two isn’t the magic number here. And if Maverick’s hunch is correct, an innocent man sits behind bars while the real killer is walking around, free as a bird. Likely looking for his next victim. I’m not going to let that happen.
There’s nothing else to catalogue on Veronica, and Maverick confirms there’s no evidence of sexual assault. The attack isn’t random, but neither is it about wanting what they can’t have. The lack of rape can lend to the theory of some kind of romance, or the opposite. There’s no easy to see answers here. No simple pattern or thread to follow to a conclusion to put this away quickly. Notyet. Spencer and I will find it, and we’ll stop it.
“We’ll send you our notes,” Abigail says with a wide smile, looping an arm around her brother’s, leaning against him. Maverick glances down at her without a word. Comical, considering he’s three times her size. In a fight, I’m not sure I’d bet against her, though. “Dad says he wants to see you for dinner next week if you can make time in your busy schedule.”
“We might be able to,” Spencer says, ignoring her sarcasm. He pulls off his gloves and drops them in a nearby bin before slapping my stomach. “If you find out anything new, let us know.”
“Sure thing.” Abigail winks at me. “Bring your man to dinner too. Dad likes him; I don’t know why.”
Spencer snickers. “I like him too; I think I’ll keep him. And stop perving on him, or I’ll cut your hands off.”
She only laughs harder because the entire family is fucking crazy.
Christ.
Chapter nine
Spencer
“I don’t think Cassielikes Tom.”
“It sounds like Tom is having an affair with her husband,” Kendrick says. He moves closer, peering over my shoulder. He smells nice, dull hints of what’s left of his cologne after a long day and his own masculine scent underneath. I want to roll in it. My favourite part of the day is just after I wake up, when Kendrick rolls out of bed to shower, and I can drag his pillow closer.
“Maybe that’s why Veronica got the acting gig? Real-life experience.” If I have to look at one more email that reads more like teenagers clawing at each other, I may actually go mad. “And I thought Greer writes passive-aggressive emails.”
“Do they not realise how easy it is to get access to these? Never put in writing, even behind a firewall, anything that you don’t want the world to see. Everything can be found.”
“Most people don’t think like that.” They don’t live in our world of shadows and deceit. They don’t look around every corner for monsters. Most can go through their whole life never once seeing eyes in the darkness, staring back at them.
Kendrick groans and leans back in his chair, dropping his head back. It stretches his neck, his Adam’s apple prominent, like a beacon. I want to put my mouth on it, lick the bump.
