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It had been created with block letters, handwritten, no return, posted from Maryland.
And it had read: “She’s with me now. Embraced by love.”
A week later, Lainie Nowak had disappeared from a suburb of Richmond. Police investigated, moving more quickly. But no leads were found.
Another letter arrived with the same exact message.
The Krewe had been called in, and ever since, they’d been working tightly with local law enforcement.
A Krewe member who owned a highly skilled search and rescue dog had found Lainie.
She had also been buried in a pine box, twenty miles from the first victim, in a deeply wooded section of forest.
A man named Carver had appeared on a list of people wanted for sexual harassment charges. She knew he’d just been one of many on the list before Jackson and the Krewe had been visited by a friend.
That wasn’t in the report.
The friend wasn’t living.
The friend had seen Carver drag a woman back into his house.
They had an area.
So, agents had gone out.
And thanks to Sergeant Parker, a girl had been found. Alive.
Colleen winced suddenly. Jackson was going to put her with Mark Gallagher and his dog, Red.
Great.
She sincerely doubted she’d simply be accepted by a seasoned agent who would surely resent her and possibly be skeptical about her “hearing.”
But it would be what it would be. She had desperately wanted to work with Jackson Crow and his special unit. They were supposed to be experts on cults and strange rites and crimes that were being committed by those who believed or pretended to believe in strange practices.
Because of course, if you saw the dead and admitted it, most people would lock you up rather than make use of the ability.
Colleen leaned back for a minute, closing her eyes. She had known forever that she wanted to be in the FBI. And since she had first heard the rumors about the elite Krewe of Hunters unit—also called the ghost busters unit by some—she knew she wanted to be in the Krewe and work for Jackson Crow. There was nothing else to do with a talent like hers other than embrace it, and hopefully, use it to save lives.
Her eyes were still closed when something suddenly slammed against the car door. Training and instinct kicked in, and Colleen drew her weapon.
She saw the giant head of a dog in the window and a man behind the canine.
The man opened the car door; she still held her Glock.
He didn’t appear to be pleased. He was tall with rugged shoulders, a man with a squared jaw and eyes so dark blue they almost appeared black.
He was quick to snap at her.
“Whatever the hell you do, Special Agent Law, do not shoot my dog!”
So, this was him. Special Agent Mark Gallagher. And Red.
The dog was wagging his tail. Colleen slid her Glock back in her holster as she stepped out of Jackson’s vehicle and lowered herself to pet the dog.
She forced a sweet smile, scratching the dog’s ears and saying softly, “Well, Red, at least I believe you and I will get along.”
Gallagher ignored that.
“Are you up to speed on this thing?” he asked.
“I am. And you?”
“Indeed I am. My partner and I just... Never mind. You’re caught up. It’s been a hell of a long day. And it’s only going to get longer.” He looked her up and down for a moment, frowning. “You’re ready for this kind of thing?”
“I graduated head of my class,” she informed him.
“Good for you. But that’s the academy. This is real life—and death.”
“Then maybe we should move since we’d like this to end in life for Dierdre Ayers,” she said sweetly.
He turned away from her. “I’m going to let Jackson know we’re on our way out.”
“But we don’t know where—”
“Yeah, we do. We have Red and...your ears. And hundreds of square miles to cover as quickly as possible. Let’s move.”
She followed him, gritting her teeth.
At least the dog was going to be a bearable partner.
