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“How can I help?” he asked finally, meeting Beckner’s steely gaze. This would be no ordinary case, Callan knew instinctively. The commander’s grim expression confirmed it.
I need you to act quick and efficiently to find that Game Master before the word of a serial killer may be in our city. You and Fontenot will work together solely on that case.”
Callan sat back in his chair, processing Beckner’s directive. A serial killer live-streaming murders, taunting the NOPD with an unsolvable crime. This case would take every ounce of his and Roseline’s combined investigative skills.
“I’ll do everything in my power to track him down,” he assured Beckner. Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed Roseline slump slightly in her seat. She looked utterly drained, the toll of what she had witnessed etched on her face.
Despite her evident fatigue, Callan knew Beckner was right to pair them together. Roseline’s technical expertise could prove invaluable in tracing the origin of the video stream and identifying the Game Master.
Still, Callan couldn’t deny feeling a twinge of hesitation about working closely with the standoffish analyst. Since transferring to New Orleans, he had always been nothing but polite and professional with Roseline. Yet she remained aloof around him, interacting only as needed for cases. Callan knew he needed to gain Roseline’s trust.
Roseline studied him for a long moment before giving a brief nod. “I’ll compile all the digital evidence and notes so far,” she replied quietly. “We can review the details and determine our next steps.”
Though her tone remained strictly professional, Callan detected a hint of softening in her guarded expression. His reassurance seemed to resonate, bridging ever so slightly the distance between them.
“Excellent.” Beckner’s deep voice broke the lingering silence. “I’m granting you both lead authority on this investigation. Report directly to me with any developments. And keep this quiet—the last thing we need is hysteria about a serial killer loose in the city.”
Callan stood, tucking his notebook into his jacket pocket. “You can count on our discretion. We’ll be in touch soon with an update.”
Roseline rose as well, averting her eyes as she gathered her things. Callan could sense her unease with being paired with him for such a demanding case. But they would need to move past that initial hesitation quickly if they hoped to stop the Game Master before he could livestream more murders.
“I should get back to my office to compile those files,” Roseline said briskly. She gave Callan a small, tentative smile.
Callan returned her smile, hoping to reassure the wary analyst. “Of course. Let me know if you need anything at all.”
Roseline gave a curt nod before slipping past him out the door. As Callan made to follow, Beckner cleared his throat.
“A word before you go, Hemlock.” The commander waited until Roseline’s footsteps had receded down the hall before continuing in a low voice.
“I know Fontenot can be... prickly at times. But there’s no one better suited to tracking down our perp digitally. You’ll need her skills.” Beckner held Callan’s gaze, his expression solemn. “I’m trusting you two to work cohesively on this. Don’t let me down.”
“I understand, sir,” Callan replied seriously. “Roseline and I may have our differences, but we’re both committed to stopping this killer. You have my word that I’ll do everything possible to earn her trust and bring out her best work.”
Beckner studied him a moment longer before giving a curt nod, apparently satisfied. As Callan exited the office, he felt the weight of responsibility settling on his shoulders. This would be no ordinary case. But if he and Roseline could find a way to work together seamlessly, combining her technical genius with his investigative instincts, they just might take down the Game Master before he could strike again.
CHAPTER FOUR
Roseline sat alone in the small conference room, staring blankly at the case files and notes spread out before her on the table. She adjusted her glasses and clasped her hands together in her lap, resisting the urge to tap her foot or fidget in any other obvious way. She didn’t want to reveal how unsettled she felt, awaiting the arrival of her new partner on this critical case.
Detective Callan Hemlock.
Despite describing him as reasonably attractive to Hayden, his name still sounded foreign to her. She had only interacted with him in passing since his arrival a few months back. Their conversations never extended beyond a polite greeting or a quick exchange about work. And yet now Commander Beckner had assigned the two of them as partners to track down the mysterious and merciless killer dubbed the Game Master.
Roseline sighed, leaning back in the rigid metal chair. She hadn’t expected to be working this closely with Hemlock. Especially not on a case this meticulous, this dangerous. When Beckner first called her into his office a week ago and shared the chilling details about the Game Master, she figured she would be investigating solo, as she often preferred, and then transfer the case to the brawn. Especially after sharing her findings and what she had uncovered so far.
Sure, collaborating with other detectives was part of the job, but Roseline felt most in her element when she could submerge herself in the digital landscapes that only she could properly navigate. Vast networks of hidden clues and codes that she could stitch together into a coherent trail, inevitably leading to the perpetrator. It was like assembling a puzzle—one where she alone held all the crucial pieces.
This time, however, Beckner made it clear he wanted a blended approach. The Game Master was no ordinary killer. His methods were elaborate, anonymous, and technologically complex. Simply tracking his digital footprints wouldn’t be enough. They needed shoe leather on the streets, too, to follow up tangible leads and connect with informants face-to-face.
Roseline understood Beckner’s rationale, even if she remained wary of letting a newcomer into her specialized domain. She made a mental note to walk Hemlock through the key details plainly. No point overwhelming him with technical gibberish before they even got started. She assumed his expertise likely lay more with old-school investigative work—surveilling suspects, interrogating witnesses, examining crime scenes.
Still, Beckner had assured her Hemlock was one of his most promising new detectives, known for his sharp intuition when it came to reading people and situations. From what she had seen from her own research, he had an impressive record back in Boston before transferring down last year. And now the commander seemed intent on testing his mettle with a case tailor-made for someone with equal parts street smarts and sensitivity.
Well, they would just have to see if Hemlock lived up to his buzz, Roseline thought. She herself preferred to rely more on cold, hard facts than hunches. But she could appreciate the value of a detective who grasped emotional nuance and human behavior. As long as he didn’t let that cloud his judgment or distract from the evidence at hand. Honestly, maybe part of her disliked the man, but each time she peeked at his muscled frame, blue eyes, and handsome face, something dangerous fluttered deep in her belly.
A brisk knock at the door startled Roseline from her thoughts. Before she could respond, the door swung open, and Hemlock strode in, clutching a fresh cup of coffee.
“Hope I didn’t keep you waiting too long,” he said, giving her a polite smile.
