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“Then we’ll need to revisit the profile and finally deliver the story to the media. A sexual sadist was a stretch to begin with. If these two are linked to our unsub, then he’s not a sexual sadist. He’s just a sadist. Look into anyone who might have tortured animals.”
I grab my notebook, scratching down some notes. “There were never any hesitation marks,” I say quietly, studying photos of the first victim. “This guy is comfortable around death and killing. No patterns of rage have been found. He’s only targeting people who have left town.”
“Which means he could have killed before,” Lisa adds.
“Hence the tortured animals bit,” I say, shifting the photos around on my desk. “He may be bitter these people left that town and have successful lives. We’ll deliver the profile to the media if we find the bodies.”
They all nod, and I pick up my phone, dialing Lana. She answers almost immediately.
“Hey, you, how’s the hunt?” she asks, sounding breathy and happy.
“Quiet right now. Hadley is running some of the forensics in an effort to see if we can get ahead of him. Why do you sound out of breath?”
“I’m on the phone. I’ll be right back,” she calls out to someone. “Sorry,” she says into the phone. “I was working out with Duke. He’s showing me some moves.”
My eyebrows hit my hairline as I stand up.
“Duke?”
“Detective John Duke. He just showed up today to start bunking with me. He said everyone just calls him Duke. He’s the guy you assigned to my house, remember?”
No. No I don’t remember. It was supposed to be Marley St. James, an older guy who is on the verge of a promotion. He’s been there since the day I had to leave. Why did they pull him?
John Duke…I’ve never heard of him.
“What happened to Marley?” I ask distractedly.
“He had something come up, I guess. I didn’t pry for details. We never really spoke. He mostly kept to himself while he was here.”
I quickly lean over my chair, remaining standing, and type the new name into the computer as Lana continues. John Duke’s picture flashes across my screen, and I almost drop my phone.
Motherfucker.
Twenty-eight. Fit. Single. Ambitious. Newly promoted to homicide detective—a coveted spot. Definitely not ugly—can’t believe I’m admitting that.
And he’s in my girlfriend’s house. Sleeping there. Staying with her while I’m here. Alone together.
I’m going to kill someone for fucking this all up.
“Logan?” Lana prompts, sounding worried. “You okay?”
“Just curious how a homicide detective has time to come babysit,” I say casually, grabbing my bag from the floor and heading toward the door. I’m due a few hours of sleep, and I know where I want to take those few hours.
“Um…he said his boss dude told him to come here. The department is taking this threat seriously. Duke is who they thought would be best to surprise Plemmons if or when he shows up.”
Throwing a tantrum is not on my agenda. The local PD want to make the arrest, and are using this as a way to get a leg up on us, since we’re outsourcing her protective detail to them. Since I’m outsourcing her protective detail to them.
&nbs
p; I’ll deal with Duke when I get there.
“I don’t know him, Lana. They apparently sent in someone they want to take credit for any arrests.”
“Kind of figured as much,” she says quietly, but there’s a mocking lilt to her tone.
“Why’s that?” I ask, getting into my SUV.
“Because there’s no way you’d send that guy to come stay in my house while you’re gone.”
