Page 1 of Coordinates of Death

Chapter One

Corporal Aurora Hunt hated the cold, but what she hated more were senseless deaths at the hands of monsters who preyed on the innocent. Throughout her years of policing, she’d seen so much. Too much, and she was tired. Tired of the darkness in the world. She clamped her mouth shut to silence her jittering teeth and zipped her parka snug to her chin, hoping to ward off any unwelcome chills. Aurora stepped under the yellow caution tape flapping in the frigid Yukon February wind. Time to concentrate on the task at hand.

Another senseless killing.

An anonymous tipster had called the Sweetwood Falls police station and specifically requested Aurora to come to the scene at the edge of the forest on the outskirts of town in a park. As the area’s liaison to the Whitehorse Major Crimes Unit, she’d seen her share of horrific crimes, but to be signaled out to a crime scene had elevated her guard. Why her? Why this particular crime?

She silenced her questions and approached her coworker. “Rain, what’s the situation?”

Constable Brianna Rain gestured toward the coroner examining the body slumped against a tree. “Hunt, Dr. Sharpe identified the victim. I’m sorry to tell you it’s Jennifer Stokes.”

Aurora cringed. Jennifer was one of their station’s civilian employees. Coincidence or intentional? “How was she discovered?”

“She was found by early-morning cross-country skiers, and they called it in. Well, them and that tip you received.” She gestured toward the paramedics watching the coroner. “Mr. Grumpy Pants over there pronounced her deceased and called in Dr. Sharpe.”

Rain was referring to the male paramedic, Barry Leveen. Several officers knew him for his grumpiness and had given him that nickname. Aurora lifted her hand in greeting to him and his partner, Olivia Rand.

They returned the gesture.

“Constable Murphy is en route to the scene to help with the investigation,” Rain said.

“Good.” Aurora studied the scene. Jennifer—approximately thirty-five, fully clothed—was propped at the base of an aspen tree with her hands inserted into a fur muff. Her winter coat gaped open, revealing a gunshot wound on her chest. Dried blood caked both sides of the victim’s neck.

Odd.

Aurora approached the coroner and stood outside his working perimeter. “What do we have, Dr. Sharpe? I’m guessing she died from the GSW to her chest. Any other initial findings?”

The fortysomething coroner sat back on his heels. “Agreed, but without a thorough examination, I can’t give you more details.”

“Understood.” Aurora pointed to the victim’s neck. “Any conclusions about what the dried blood is from?”

Dr. Sharpe gently turned the woman’s head, exposing a small, peculiar symbol on her right earlobe.

Aurora inched closer. “What is that, Doc? Can you describe it?”

He withdrew a magnifying glass from his bag and held it close. “Looks like someone pierced a logo onto her ear with some sort of crude instrument. Perhaps a tattoo needle. I’ll have a clearer view once I get her to the morgue and wash away the blood.”

She stiffened as a cold case pummeled into her brain. The case that had haunted her for two long years and caused her leader to question Aurora’s promotion to corporal. “Constable Rain, did you find anything else at the scene?”

“Like what?”

“A handmade box with a logo embroidered on the top.” Aurora held her breath, waiting for Rain’s answer.

“Nothing in the immediate area. After Barry pronounced her deceased, I secured the scene. The forensics team is on their way.”

Aurora expelled an audible breath of relief. Perhaps she was being paranoid, and the symbol on the victim’s ear was only a coincidence.

Even if her gut said otherwise.

“Who are they sending?” Please, Lord, help it not to be him.

“Dispatch told me Dirk isn’t back from his honeymoon until tomorrow, so his next-in-command, Nadine Black.” Rain adjusted her duty belt at her waist.

Aurora’s shoulders relaxed. “Good.” She couldn’t face her ex-fiancé yet.

She evaluated the group of onlookers that had gathered along the edge of the park’s entrance. She’d learned her lesson last time and wanted to eliminate anyone acting suspiciously. Nothing stood out.

“Can you canvass the crowd to see if anyone saw anything?” Her mind traveled to the crime scene of the Shadow Box Killer’s last victim two years ago. The site was next to a playground, and a child’s squeal drew her attention, thrusting her back to her childhood, to a time she had tried hard to forget. Her three-year-old sister Anna’s abduction. The day her life had changed forever, at the age of ten.