Chapter 12
Front
“Rick Knowles, male, forty-seven, found by a couple joggers an hour ago,” the responding officer states, addressing me and Theo. Officer Taylor scrunches her nose as she glances down at the victim. Theo doesn’t react. Neither do I. “This look like your guy?”
Theo squats down, his gloved hand gliding over the lash marks on the victim's back. “Did the ME give time of death?”
Theo glances around the jogging trail in Central Park. “It’s after noon now. Why wasn’t the body discovered earlier?”
“Trail’s closed for maintenance today,” Officer Taylor says. She looks up at me. “Every Thursday. Your guy must not be a jogger. It’s pretty common knowledge.”
I nod, examining the tapped off crime scene. And like clockwork, I spot a match. “Get the tech team to bag that,” I tell Officer Taylor.
An uneasy feeling grips my stomach.
Theo notices.
“What is it?” he asks, rising to his feet. “See something?”
“This is two victims in a row that the unsub didn’t stick to his original MO,” I say, glancing around. “My initial profile said he craves public attention, but Wharton was found in his home, and now Knowles…” The gears in my head turn. “Hmm…”
Theo frowns as Officer Taylor disappears into the crime scene. “What?”
I look down at the victim. “It doesn’t make sense.
If the unsub is as meticulous and ritualistic as we think he is, he would’ve known this trail was closed.
Men like this tend to do their homework, so to speak.
He also would’ve planned Wharton’s murder to align with his ideologies, no matter the circumstance. ”
“What’re you getting at, Safia?” Theo cocks his head. “Speak your mind.”
“What if…”
I swallow as Theo’s amber gaze burrows into my damn soul. He has to stop looking at me like that. He’s leaving me tongue-tied. We’re at a crime scene. We’re standing over a victim. A dead body. And yet, it feels like we’re alone. With no one around. I banish the thoughts. The feelings. Everything.
“What if the unsub is trying to make it look like these killings are part of a serial pattern, but in reality, they’re not?
Maybe the unsub isn’t driven by the traditional psychopathic or sociopathic tendencies we’d expect.
Instead, what if there’s a deeply personal vendetta against these specific victims?
The theatrical elements could be a deliberate attempt to mislead us, to obscure the true motive and make it appear as though we’re dealing with a more classic profile—a serial killer seeking power or control—when in fact, this might be about revenge, or some other personal grievance. ”
Theo nods slowly. “Interesting.”
I shrug. “Just a thought. I could be wrong, but perhaps it’s something we should consider.”
“We’ll take it back to the team. See what they have to say.
” Theo haphazardly steps over Knowles’s body as he sidles up next to me.
I frown. “Given we’ve got a hit from the number eighteen, I wouldn’t recommend completely dismissing your initial profile.
” He scans my tight features. “Hey.” He flashes me a disarming smile.
“You’re doing a great job, Safia. It’ll all come together in the end.
It always does.” He nods to the yellow police tape.
“We should go back now. Let the techs do their job.”
I follow him back to the SUV, but something about his demeanor doesn’t sit right with me.
“So, Kane managed to get ahold of Dr. Malcolm and—”
Zoey’s voice fades into a distant buzz as I stare at Theo from my desk.
He’s giving a few agents a briefing on the new victim.
I can’t hear what he’s saying, but I watch his lips move.
Slow. Intentional. Authoritative. People listen to Theo.
They hear him. It’s a gift. To be heard.
People listen to me. They have to. I’m an expert.
I’m a teacher. But I’ve never felt like I’ve ever been heard before.
His pink, soft lips move fluidly, and I’m entranced. Fully sucked in.
And then he laughs. Head thrown back, a twinkle in his eyes. The other agents laugh as well. But why are they laughing? A man is dead. A man whose body Theo stepped over as if it were a puddle, meaningless, a nuisance.
He could’ve gone around. It would’ve taken two extra seconds.
But he went over. And that doesn't feel right. I’d never disrespect a body like that.
But maybe, after years being around dead bodies, tactfulness fades.
Today I saw a dead body. The second one I’ve ever seen, and my reaction wasn’t nearly as visceral as before.
I adapted quickly. I didn’t get nauseous.
Perhaps Theo is the same. He’s used to it. It’s common. Part of his every day.
Theo continues talking, and I wish I could be a fly on the wall.
Every wall. Every wall and room and building, because then I’d understand him.
I’d understand myself. My pulse quickens as his cold gaze snaps toward me, and for a fleeting moment I’m back in my bedroom, his raspy voice buzzing in my ear.
Do you taste as sweet as you look?
“Safia?”
My entire body reacts to the memory.
“Dr. Hadid—”
I gasp, yanking my disloyal eyes away from Theo’s vortex. I blink at Zoey.
“What?”
Zoey scrunches up her brows. “Did you hear anything I said?”
I want to scream. How unprofessional. How rude. I cast Zoey an apologetic look. “Sorry, I was, uh—distracted. Can you repeat what you said?”
She briefly glances in Theo’s direction but doesn’t comment.
I attempt to read her expression, but she’s learned how to conceal her reactions.
A skill she picked up from her mafia ties, I’m sure.
She’s lucky. If only I were able to hide behind a platinum mask.
Recently, mine’s been made out of straw.
“I was saying that Kane managed to get ahold of Dr. Malcolm, and he talked to Camilla,” Zoey begins.
My brows perk up. “And?”
“Camilla confirmed that Bocco’s Butchery was a front, but it wasn’t run by The Angels.
” Her voice trembles for a second, but she recovers.
Faster this time. I suppose we all have skills to learn.
“Apparently, Bocco’s used to belong to The Dragons, but they leased that part of town to a small biker gang.
” Zoey reads her notes. “The Vipers. They’re actually based in the West Coast now, but twenty years ago, they tried to expand.
They, uh, they ran some underground games to see if they could break into the market, but then The Dragons wanted their territory back, and when The Vipers wouldn’t move, they burned down the place.
Of course, this is all conjecture, but it holds up. ”
“Underground games? Like gambling?”
“Looks that way,” Zoey says. “Cami said it was a hot spot back in the day. Patrons of all shapes and sizes.”
I chew on my bottom lip, considering her findings. “So the charges on their cards was, what? An entry fee? Why not take cash?”
“Not sure. If I had to guess, it was probably some form of insurance to make sure no one talks. Cash doesn’t leave a trail, but a card does. If they go down, their players go down with them.” Zoey shrugs. “They probably took a hefty rake as well. Doubt that was charged to Visa.”
I nod slowly. “And all the victims so far have ties with this establishment?"
“Yup.” Zoey taps her fingers on her tablet. She shows me the screen. It’s Rick Knowles’s financials. “Even the new vic. I’m going to go out on a limb and say all these guys knew each other. At least in some capacity.”
“Can we—” I can sense his presence. It tickles my neck. “Can we get a list of the patrons? Everyone who used to gamble there?”
Zoey snorts. “Seriously?”
I frown. “What?”
Zoey giggles. It’s an innocent sound. Almost as if her past hasn’t been tragic. “I hate to break it to you, Safia, but gangs aren’t really known for keeping traceable ledgers of their criminal activities. If there was a list, it’s long gone by now.”
I glare at her. “It was simply a question, Zoella. No need to ridicule me.”
Zoey gives me a sheepish smile. “I wasn’t trying to—”
“Let’s contact the DOJ.” Theo’s voice sounds from behind me.
I don’t jump or jerk or react. I knew he was coming.
It’s not a surprise. He rounds the desk, glancing down at Zoey.
“Call Pamela Scott and Hardeep Deol. Say we need to chat with Wei Zhao—the former head of The Dragons. They’ve got him in Ricker’s awaiting trial.
Maybe if he gives us something, they can knock a couple years off his sentence.
” He smirks at me. “Twenty-two years is better than twenty-five, right?”
Zoey blinks. “No member of The Dragons is going to talk to you, Kane. Trust me. They’d rather die than betray the triad. Plus, we don’t even know if they have a list. It wasn’t their front.”
Theo smiles at Zoey. “I doubt they’d burn their own property down before doing a sweep. What’s the harm in asking?”
Zoey sighs, standing up. “Fine. I’ll send a request to the ADA and AUSA, but I’m telling you, he won’t crack that easily.”
Theo turns his attention to me, and my chest rises as his gaze flits across my flustered face.
“You’d be surprised how easily some people can crack,” he rasps, “when given the right incentive.” He cocks his head, smirking at my juvenile reaction. “We’re going to head to The Junction in a bit. You coming?”
I shake my head. “No, I—”
“Oh, come on, Safia,” he purrs. “Just one drink. Plus,” his eyes darken, “I’m your ride home, aren’t I?”
My limbs freeze as I glance over at Zoey, but she’s moved over one desk and is occupied with a phone call.
She’s not listening, and he’s not wrong.
I haven’t booked a hotel yet. It slipped my mind.
Or I purposely forgot about it. The pendulum of intentions could swing either way.
I do need to go to his house. I left my belongings there.
He… he made me leave them there.
“I don’t particularly enjoy being coerced, Agent Kane,” I hiss.