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Anne came in and went immediately to the coffee maker. Jeffers followed her into the breakroom and stood there, arms crossed and eyes on her for an uncomfortably long time.
“Jeffers, I’m too tired to play guessing games. If you have a problem, say it,” Anne said as she prepared her coffee. “We got some good material last night, right? At least something to start with?”
“What? Yeah, okay, we got a little bit of intel, but you got something else!” Jeffers snapped. “And while you were getting something else, our killer took someone else out.”
Anne turned around. “Really? Who?”
Jeffers motioned for her to come with him and stalked out.
“During the gala? Or after?” Anne pressed as they walked down the hallway. “That matters.”
For the next hour, Anne sipped her coffee and stared at the crime scene photos of their newest victim. Gabe Brundle, another man with a less than perfect record, but not as built as Pigg had been. The team on the scene had made sure to look for the mark between the fingers of his left hand, now that they knew it might be there. Only this time, the victim wasn’t shot multiple times. His Achilles’ tendons had been cut, and he’d been tortured for some time before being shot in the head. This was Santiago’s signature, not Egerton’s. Santiago always tried to get information out of traitors and deserters before putting them down.
“It would help if we knew how Spencer was a part of all of this,” Jeffers said.
“It really wouldn’t.” Anne didn’t spare a look for Jeffers. He was being incredibly annoying, and if he spilled what he expected about last night….
“I may not be the sharpest detective in the VPD’s tool belt, but I can guess that if he didn’t put them there—”
Anne glared at him.
Jeffers raised his hands. “—which he couldn’t because you were with him when this happened, then he’s been targeted by our perp.”
“Spencer doesn’t fit any of the patterns,” Anne said. “He wasn’t shot five times. He hasn’t been shot once.” She lowered her voice. “Amazingly.”
“Yeah, I find that hard to believe, too. So then how—”
“He was stabbed. Can we drop this?”
Jeffers’ eyes widened. “Ohh. Then his relationship with the perp might be personal, rather than a hit.”
“I don’t know, Jeffers.” Anne blinked wearily.
“Guys?” DeWinter poked his head into the room. “Lopez wants to talk to all of us in the briefing room. Now. I’m pretty sure it’s about your case.”
Anne pinched the bridge of her nose.
“Hey. This case is getting big enough that they’d take it away from any one of us. Two is just not enough,” DeWinters said.
“That’s not much comfort come evaluation time,” Jeffers said.
“It should be. Sutton, you turned a single murder into multiple homicides, potentially closing a dozen cold cases.” DeWinters slapped her shoulder as she exited the room. “Be proud. Hell, you’ve helped us on cases. Let us help you.”
“I don’t think the captain notices when I help you guys on cases,” Anne said.
DeWinters was quiet for a moment, then scratched the back of his graying black hair. “I dunno. I think Lopez notices everything.”
Anne sighed and headed with them to the briefing room. Whatever was about to happen, she wasn’t going to like it.
***
“We’re closed,” William said irritably after the bell to his shop sounded. He stared fixedly at the pile of books he was sorting. Maybe he should’ve elected to run a comic book shop. Or an ice cream parlor. He blew the dust off of an old tome that someone had ordered but not picked up.
The sound of heeled boots came nearer, and he ignored them.
“William?” Anne’s soft voice floated toward him.
He said nothing, hoping that she would just leave.
“Look, it’s been a few days, and you haven’t answered your phone. They’re gonna send someone else down here if you don’t answer. I told them to let me try first since I’ve been your contact so far.”
“Oh, is contact what you call it?” William muttered.
“Will?” Anne peered around the bookshelf. “God, I was afraid someone had silenced that smart-ass mouth of yours permanently.”
“You’re a real sweetheart, you know?” William slammed a book down. “What do you want this time?”
“The department wants to put a man inside,” Anne explained, shifting her weight onto one foot. “Get some information from Egerton. We’re pretty sure we can link Egerton to seven hits at least, and if we bust him, the money dries up for his hit man. He might even roll on the guy to reduce his sentence.”
