“Is there anything in here about the Philadelphia cases?”
“Winslow emailed me most of the reports. You have copies of all that. She’s overnighting the rest, including an initial profile.”
That made her glance up, one dark brow arching. “Who did the profile?”
“Dr. Meyerson. Winslow wanted you at the time, but you weren’t available.”
A flicker of interest crossed her face before her attention returned to the file. “What about the autopsy reports and photos of your three victims? Are they in here too?”
Before Sean could answer, Rafe reached for the additional manila folders stacked near his elbow and handed them across the table. “Here they are, Dr. Ralston. You should have the reports included with everything Sean gave you, but here are the autopsy and crime scene photos.” His expression darkened. “I’m sure you’ve seen plenty of ugly scenes working for the feds, but these are rough. You can hold onto them if needed. The official copies are in the main case file.”
Suki accepted the folders without hesitation. “Thank you, Agent Montoya, but as you know, ‘disturbing’ comes with the job.”
Sean noticed the shift in Rafe’s posture at her calm response. The man looked impressed, which didn’t surprise him. Suki had always carried herself with a quiet confidence that put people at ease while leaving no doubt she knew exactly what she was doing.
The SBI agent gave her a quick grin. “I hear you. And feel free to call me Rafe. We’re pretty informal around here.”
The warmth that touched her expression softened the professional reserve she’d worn since arriving. “Thanks, Rafe. And everyone, please call me Suki. My dad’s an internist, and every time I hear Dr. Ralston, I look around to see where he is.”
A ripple of laughter moved around the table, easing some of the strain that had been hanging over the room since morning. Sean found himself relaxing with it, grateful for the brief break in the tension. The investigation had weighed on all of them for days, and for a moment, the conference room felt less like a war room and more like a group of people working toward the same goal.
The shift faded as Suki opened the first autopsy file. The room grew quiet again, the earlier humor slipping away as her attention locked onto the photographs and reports spread before her. Sean watched her expression sharpen, her focus narrowing as she absorbed every detail. Whatever conclusions she reached, he hoped they gave the task force something they could finally use.
* * *
Closing the last folder, she met the gaze of each member of the task force in succession. “Thank you all for the update. I’ll spend the next few hours reviewing the files and should have a preliminary profile for you in the morning or noon at the latest.”
Brian and Rafe stood and said their goodbyes for the day, although the latter seemed reluctant to do so. The guy hadn’t been able to take his gaze off Suki. But they needed to check in with their own supervisor. Even though they were on the serial-killer task force, they still had other cases to work on. Until the team had some more information or a lead or two, there wasn’t much else the two agents could do at the sheriff’s department.
Brian gave his brother a fist bump and a wink before walking out the door.
After they left, Suki began perusing the files again as Brad entered updates to existing reports on the department computer. Sean opened his laptop and signed on. Once he was in the right database, he expanded the parameters for a new search in the FBI system and hit send.
While the program was doing its thing, he strolled down the hall to the break room and put money in the soda machine. He grabbed two Cokes for Brad and himself and a Diet Coke for Suki, which was her usual. Sean often joked with his uncle that caffeine and sugar were the “breakfast, lunch, and dinner of champions” for almost anyone in law enforcement—they kept you going while doing the boring grunt work.
Brad had told them earlier that it was his wife’s birthday and he wanted to leave on time to take her out to dinner. Around five-thirty, he finished up, said goodbye, and headed out the door, leaving the two FBI agents alone in the room.
Suki stood and gracefully stretched her neck and back. “Speaking of dinner, you owe me, and I’m getting hungry.”
He grinned at her. “When are you not hungry? For a tiny woman, you eat like a linebacker.”
Laughing, she gathered up her files to place in her briefcase. “I wouldn’t say a linebacker… maybe a wide receiver.” She shrugged. “What can I say? I was blessed with a good metabolism. Now, where’s this Sassy’s Restaurant you’ve told me all about?”
Grace flipped through the local newspaper while standing behind the counter at Petals, her aunt’s boutique. The little clothing shop sat a few doors down from Dan Malone’s hardware store and diagonally across from Pro-Care, making it easy to keep an eye on her future business through the wide front windows.
Outside, the fading gold of early evening cast long shadows across Main Street. A few pedestrians still strolled the sidewalks, enjoying the unseasonably warmer weather before sunset.
Behind the register, Bonnie counted the day’s receipts while carrying on a conversation as only she could. “I’ve had customers drifting in and out all day. Seems this stretch of warmer weather has everyone in the mood to freshen up their spring wardrobes.”
Grace smiled and folded the newspaper closed. “Well, since March twentieth was last week, it’s already spring. Down here, you start getting weather like this way before New York does. Back home, a few days brushing sixty before April would have people calling it an early heat wave.”
Bonnie glanced up with a teasing look. “Are you complaining?”
Grace laughed. “Absolutely not. This is my favorite kind of weather. Not too hot, not too cold.”
“Mine too,” Bonnie said, setting aside one stack of receipts and reaching for another. “And not just because it’s good for business, though that’s certainly a plus. I had a busy morning, and then a lovely group of women came in after I got back from lunch. They drove down from South Mills for the day to eat, shop, and walk around. And boy, did they shop.”
She arched a brow. “Shopping is one thing. The question is, did they buy?”
