Chapter 25
Chapter
Twenty-Five
VES
“That was quite the stunt you pulled.”
I lift my eyes from the mountain of paperwork on my desk and narrow them as Butler comes in and slams the door of my borrowed office. “Excuse me?”
He nods as he tugs on his lapels and stands across from me. “You got your ass on TV. Hope you’re happy.”
This bastard knows better than anyone how much I hate dealing with the press.
I can’t stand doing interviews, I always refuse to give a statement.
I despise when the reporters get in my way or nearly compromise a scene.
They never report the right info anyway, and I’ll be damned if it’s because of something I said.
Marley tells me I have the look for it. I could easily be the spokesperson for every case because I’m easy on the eyes in a terrifying way and while I appreciate it, I’d sooner punch myself in the face until I blacked out.
Not to mention, I try to avoid putting myself out there to avoid any unwanted attention.
I’ve been catching serial killers for a long time but I didn’t start out chasing them.
I have arrests that have been released for one reason or another.
Appeals, good behavior, end of terms. I don’t need those fuckers finding me.
Then you throw in my psychotic ex. I’ve avoided cameras like the plague because despite the PPO, I don’t trust that bitch to stay away if she knows where we are.
If I managed to get photographed, or show my face on TV like in this case, it was by complete accident, and I’m about to raise hell with whoever slapped my mug across screens everywhere.
“All eyes are on you now, March. They made you as lead on The Orphan, you’re going to have the press on your ass like flies on shit.”
“Techincally, you’re lead.” I arch my brow and lean back in my chair. “You’ve made that pretty goddamn clear. This is your case ever since the old lady at the beach, before that, if you ask me. Maybe I should make a statement and let them know who’s ass they need to cover in shit?”
Butler scowls, “Stay. Away. From the vultures.”
An image from early this morning slams into my mind, one that floods my senses and takes me back to it as if I was standing in the middle of the desert all over again.
The crowd was already huge by the time I got to Corvus’ body.
The news was everywhere.
There were more bystanders than any case I’ve worked before.
It didn’t help that the woman who stumbled across the bloody scene worked for an online station.
A glorified blogger who never has a real story, or actual facts to back them.
She was out for a morning hike and saw the vultures, followed them, and when she found Corvus, she called her colleagues before the authorities, and compromised the hell out of the crime scene in the process.
Not that I’m mad about that. If anything, it helps me out.
But that’s not what’s playing on a loop in my mind.
“Get away from those goddamn vultures, Charlie! You’re running through my shot!”
My dad calls my sister Charlie while the rest of us call her Lottie, and the nickname caught my ear.
I scanned the crowd, not sure what I’d find, but I wasn’t expecting to see a little boy.
A little boy barely older than Cali, running around in circles under the shadows the vultures cast as they waited for everyone to leave.
They’d already picked at Corvus’ carcass quite a bit from what I’d seen, but they were hoping the mob forming wouldn’t last long and they’d be able to get back at it as things warmed up.
One landed about halfway between the body and the caution tape, and I watched as Charlie ducked under and started inching his way toward the scavenger.
“Charlie! Charlie, you little bastard, I said leave those fucking things alone!” The man stormed over and reached under the tape, yanking the boy so hard he yelped.
“You stupid son of a bitch, you never fucking listen. I told you I was working. Told you to leave them damn birds alone!” He started dragging the boy away from the scene toward a beat up pickup parked amongst the police cruisers, whipped open the door then threw him in the backseat.
“Sit your ass down and shut the fuck up. You’re fine, but you’re in trouble.
Sit there and think about that while I try to make some fucking money. ”
He slammed the door and went back to work, snapping unauthorized photos for some hack magazine, I’m sure.
I sent a uniform over to check on the kid without making a scene. It was early as fuck still, but the temp was probably about eighty and at that rate, it was going to be scorching by lunchtime.
And that asshat was going to let his kid fry in the backseat for what couldn’t have been more than a hundred bucks.
Thankfully the cop was on the same page, found the father of the year and made him leave. After he got his info for me.
It’s burning a hole in my pocket as I sit here.
I saw the way the kid flinched with every word his father spit. Saw the bruises no one bothered to hide. How skinny poor Charlie was.
That shit was hard to miss, and his dad is lucky I didn’t lose my mind at the crime scene.
“Are you fucking listening to me, March?”
My eyes shift from somewhere over Butler’s shoulder and meet his steely gaze. “No.”
“Goddamnit, March, I swear to—”
“What?” I snap as I slam my hands on my desk and quickly get to my feet. “You swear to god you’re going to what, Butler, because I am so sick and fucking tired of your bitching, bullshit, and empty threats I’m praying for the day you finally act on them.”
We stand there staring at each other for a few beats, the room saturated in the scent of rage, but I don’t miss the bite of fear. It’s light and thin, but it’s there, and I can’t help but grin at that.
“I’ll take care of whoever put my face out there,” I say in a low tone as I narrow my eyes.
“I’ll take care of that, I’ll put someone on PR, I’ll take ownership of this case and all the bullshit surrounding it.
And if I’m really going to be lead, I expect you to treat me like it.
” He opens his mouth as the vein in his forehead throbs.
“You know better than anyone else what I’m capable of when it comes to working in the field and running a team, let me fucking do that, and I’ll catch the fucker you’ve been chasing for months. ”
Butler stands there huffing in place, his face so red, red as hell, and I’m waiting for smoke to come billowing out of his ears, throwing big bad alpha lasers out of him, but he doesn’t speak.
No, the stupid bastard tugs his lapels one more time, fixes his cufflinks then spins on his heel and leaves my office the same way he entered it.
I’m so fucking keyed up right now, there’s no way I’m going to be able to get through all this paperwork.
I pat the chest pocket of my shirt and grin.
Looks like I’ll be needing a way to blow off some steam, and lucky for me, I know exactly how I’m going to do it.