Authors: Kate Allenton
money.
“Nope.” Nothing surprised Jack when it came to Marshall getting what he loved and wanted. The
pair of pistols was par for the course, but he’d never get his hands on the sword.
“You should have partnered with me. You wouldn’t be stuck doing grunt work.”
“Yeah…well, you may still get your wish.”
Marshall flicked the case closed and gave Jack a questioning glance. “You serious? They wouldn’t
fire you over a drug bust.”
“How did you know?” Jack waved off the stupid question. “I should have figured you’d find out.”
“Well, if it wasn’t the bust and they aren’t having cut backs, then what’s up?”
“What, you don’t already know?” Jack said jokingly.
“Apparently not, what gives?”
Marshall knowing the state of the economy and how it affected his job shouldn’t have surprised
Jack either. That’s what his friend excelled at. His ear was constantly to the ground and into the business of everyone he cared about and called friend. Jack grabbed the file and moved into one of the back rooms at the club, one of the private rooms used for anything others didn’t want the public to hear.
Politicians, business men, and such used the meeting rooms on a daily basis, whenever the need arose.
The only requirement was they had to be a member, and those spots were limited and hard to come by.
The room was more than a typical meeting room. It was more like a little club. The doors slid shut behind them. An ornate, and expensive, table filled the open space upon entry, the shiny wood surface polished to perfection. Paintings hung on the wall, the former founders standing behind the table where they now sat. There were no plants, nothing airy about the place. A fully stocked bar ran the length of the back wall. It was swanky and nothing like Jack had expected when he was first introduced to the place. The club leaned toward the finer side of life. A life that he’d almost chosen.
Marshall walked around the back of the bar and started pouring two shots of whisky, sliding one
down to Jack before he recapped the crystal bottle.
“I’m stuck working with the chief’s sister. It’s kind of a penance for busting the fed.”
Marshall downed his shot before propping his elbows on the bar. “Sounds harsh. Is she ugly? Is that the problem?” Marshall grinned. “Or is she just not falling for the old Love charm?”
“She’s a pain in my ass.”
Marshall chuckled. “This is a first. Just turn on the charm and keep her in line. I don’t see the
problem.”
“It’s not that simple. She sexy; she’s stubborn; she’s my boss’s baby sister; and now I’m responsible for her while she’s temping at the office.”
“Sounds like a win/win. You’re into her; she’s convenient; and she’s temping. It’s not like she’s
around for the long haul.”
“Dude…didn’t you hear me? I have to work with her.”
Marshall shrugged. “Does that mean you aren’t interested because if she’s hot…”
Jack shook his head. The conversation was going nowhere fast. He was tired of talking about
Sophie. It was time to get the conversation back on track.
“You said he’s on the move?” Jack prompted.
“Don’t think I didn’t notice the change of topic.” Marshall flipped the file open and turned it toward Jack.
“You notice everything.”
“It’s why I’m paid the big bucks.” He pointed down to one of the newspaper clippings sitting inside the file. The newspaper was issued from three states away. “It looks like your ghost is expanding his operation. Every six months there have been kills, but they’ve been in the general area and around Salem. It looks like he’s expanding the operations to nearby towns, even crossing the state line.”
Jack read the article in detail looking for some link between the killings, why Marshall would
assume this guy was one of the numerous victims to add to his growing list. The deceased was a loner, no next of kin. His occupation was as a computer consultant. The media reported there were no
suspects in the case.
“How do you know it’s connected?”
He smiled. “The style of the kill.”
Jack reread the article. “It doesn’t say.”
Marshall flipped back a few pages and pulled out the picture, a pentagram drawn on the cement
floor of a barn. The perimeter surrounded by candles. A man was hung from the rafters, a thin rope around his neck. A bullet hole in his chest. His head lulled to the side, his eyes left wide open. Jack’s heart sank. A replica of the same scene Jack had come across was laid out in living color in the picture.
The only difference was the change in where the candles were placed. That was why the books he’d
seen at Sophie’s house had momentarily rattled his cage. That was why he had to catch this guy.
“It’s all in the file.”
“Where did you get this?”
“It’s just a copy of the original, but I have my ways. Maybe you can figure out what the feds are
missing. I don’t think this guy is going to stop until he’s caught.”
“That’s what I’m afraid of.” He nodded while grabbing the file and closing it. “Thanks.”
Sophie inhaled a deep breath and ran her hands down the red wrap around dress. Getting back at
him may have been childish, but he deserved it. Jack crowding her against her doorway yesterday was not only rude but uncalled for. He’d been trying to get a rise out of her, and today she’d been the one to get a rise out of him. Her three-inch high heels clicked against the concrete steps as she reached the top.
A quick inconspicuous glance down to make sure the girls hadn’t popped out had her grinning. She’d tried her best to dress sexy, yet conservative, so she didn’t embarrass her brother. Her mind turned to Jack and she grinned. “Let the games begin.”
She tugged the door open and sashayed into the office.
Please don’t trip. Please don’t trip.
The men in uniform who were standing around talking all stopped. Jack’s voice carried throughout the silent room. His back positioned to the door, he had missed her entrance. Kingston, one of the cops she’d known a while nudged Love in the arm. “Looks like your partner returned.”
Love spun around and she watched as his gaze travelled up and down her body, like all of the other male cops in the place. She smiled as she passed him and patted him on the chest. “Let’s get to work.”
She disappeared into the cold case room.
One, two, three.
The door clicked shut behind her and she turned in place to find Jack with his back pressed against the door. Maybe she hadn’t thought this out thoroughly. “You care to tell me what you’re doing?”
She crossed her arms beneath her breasts, giving a little lift to the girls. “Getting ready to start working.”
He pushed off the door and closed in on her like a predator after its prey. With every step he took, she took one back until her thighs pressed against the table behind her.
“What’s with the dress and the heels?”
“You don’t like them? I thought you’d appreciate that I have on more clothes.”
“You call that more clothes? I thought you would have dressed more…appropriately.” The tension
in his face eased. “I’m sure you can imagine the implications if you faint again….in that dress.”
She rolled her eyes and sidestepped around him, going to sit in front of her computer. “I’ll take my chances.”
The file Sophie had worked on the day before lay next to her computer. She wasn’t going to faint
like a ninny today. Her stomach rolled and a lump formed in her throat as she flipped the file open. Her fingers poised above the keyboard.
“Maybe you weren’t cut out for this type of work.”
“Maybe you should mind your own business. Do all of these files contain murder victims?”
He shrugged. “Not all, some are just cases where the leads went cold and are at a dead end. The
whole reason for getting them into the database is to maybe see some similarities we might not have recognized before.”
“Like if the killer leaves clues?” She flipped the file open and pointed to the picture. “Wouldn’t these little flecks of sticks lying around the body be a clue?”
His fingers paused above the laptop, and he glanced her way. “I’m sure they have a note in the file on what they found.”
She rubbed her lips together, debating on exactly how much she should tell him. She flipped
through the file to see if they’d noted anything about the ash-looking bark. She ran her finger down the report and paused. She glanced up. “All it says is that it’s a plant. It doesn’t even say what kind.
Wouldn’t they have checked that out since it was at the crime scene?”
He took her file and started thumbing through the contents. “Could be that it wasn’t important.”
He pointed to the field in the picture. “She could have been picking the stuff when she was killed.”
Or maybe she was burning it
.
A few hours later, one drawer of the filing cabinet was empty; the completed files still on the table, and Jack had left to pick up their takeout order for lunch. She leaned back in her chair, laced her fingers together, and stretched, lifting her hands above her head.
There are more,
a male’s deep voice whispered in her ear, startling her with a jolt.
“What the….” Sophie gasped while floundering, her arms flailing as she tried to regain her balance, only to land with a thud on the carpet behind her, knocking her skull into one of the nearby filing cabinets. Luckily, her dress continued to cover her panties as she scrambled to stand.
“This is becoming a habit,” Jack said from the doorway, holding a takeout bag in his hands.
She smoothed down her dress before rubbing her head. “I was stretching.”
“Are you okay?” He set the bag down and rounded the table. He cupped her cheek with one hand
and held up two fingers in front of her eyes. “How many fingers do you see?”
“Two.” She rolled her eyes and brushed the fingers away. “I’m fine.”
His brows dipped in concern.
“Don’t worry. My brother won’t hold you accountable for my clumsiness. He’s used to it.”
She righted her chair while he pulled out the containers full of Chinese and dumped the sauces and fortune cookies on the table. Sophie stayed true to her tradition and reached for one of the cookies before even going for her food. She ripped the wrapper open and cracked the sweet cookie apart,
pulling out the little paper inside.
“What does it say?”
“You’re wise beyond your years.”
“Don’t let him fool you,” a male’s deep voice said from the doorway.
A blush crept up into Sophie’s cheeks. The man in the doorway wasn’t one of the officers from the
precinct. No, this one was dressed in a tailor-made business suit that probably cost more than her rent, his hair was styled with gel, and he had a clean-shaven face with chiseled cheekbones and eyes the color of her favorite dessert, melted chocolate. He looked as though he just stepped off a magazine cover.
“What are you doing here, Marshall?”
The man grinned, giving her a glimpse of deep-set dimples. Sophie snapped her mouth closed to
prevent drooling.
“Just checking in with Masterson. You know I have to keep up a good rapport with the local police.”
Marshall kept his gaze on her while answering Jack.
“Just checking in, huh?” Jack said with skepticism in his voice. “Sophie, this is my best friend,
Marshall Dixon. Marshall, this is—”
“Sophie Masterson,” Marshall finished for him. He stepped over to the table and held out his hand.
“It’s a pleasure to finally meet you. Jack here has told me so much about you.”
“Oh.” Sophie swung her gaze between the two men. “Don’t believe whatever he’s said. I can assure
you that I’m not the Antichrist out to get him fired by breaking my neck.”
“I didn’t tell him that.”
“No?” Sophie’s face heated even more.
“All right Marshall, you’re embarrassing her.”
Marshall grinned. “That wasn’t my intention. I make it my business to know everyone who works
here in case our paths cross.” Marshall winked. “I’m sure our paths
will
cross, Miss Masterson. I might just have to make it a point that they do.”
Sophie cleared her throat. “Any friend of Love’s is a friend of mine, Mr. Dixon.”
“Marshall,” he corrected.
“Marshall,” she repeated.
Jack rose from his seat and patted his friend on the back. “All right, you’ve met her. Let me walk you out.”
Sophie watched them leave. Marshall was charming and, if he was a friend of Jack’s, that meant
pure trouble. Just what had Jack said about her?
They are both enchanted by you,
the deep voice whispered in her ear.
“Just who the hell is this!” she demanded out loud, glancing up at the ceiling.
“Soph, are you all right?” her brother asked from the door.
Yes, No, was she? Talking to herself was a new low. She cleared her throat and picked up the file
from yesterday that was still plaguing her. “Yeah, just trying to figure out who this woman was.” She waved the file. “There wasn’t much known about her. No family, no friends, you guys couldn’t find
anything. Don’t you think that’s odd?”
Max stepped into the room and thumbed through the file.
Tell him the truth,
the voice whispered.
Sophie’s eyes widened. Max didn’t even look up when the voice spoke. Was this something only
she was experiencing? What the heck was going on with her?
Not on your life,
she answered back in her head.
It’s inevitable.
Keep out of this!
She was officially arguing with herself. Maybe she did need to be locked up.
Max closed the file and tossed it back down on the table. “From the looks of it, they checked out
what was on her driver’s license and came to a dead-end. There was no paperwork. They found one
receipt for a shop over on Main Street called Mystic. Hell, they couldn’t even find her rental paperwork.
They ran her fingerprints and name in all of the national databases and couldn’t come up with anything other than her estranged parents who they interviewed at length.”