by Linzi Baxter
Growing up, I enjoyed watching the rocket launched.
“Right now, we’re working on perfecting the rocket that will take people into space. Jared wants to launch the first one this fall. Last I heard, they have a waiting list of two hundred people who have already put a deposit down.”
“You would have to pay me to go to space, not the other way around.”
We made it to the front of the line. Sasha ordered another hamburger, and I ordered a turkey sandwich. I liked how she ordered what she wanted and didn’t care what I thought.
She walked to the same table we’d sat in the morning before. “I’ve done enough simulations to know I’m never going to space. Jared is going to go on the first test run. His other two brothers helped him with the company, but they are in it for the money and the future. I can’t see either of them wanting to go to space.”
“It’s risky enough driving to work each day,” I muttered.
Sasha nodded and took a sip of water. “How's your case going?”
The last thing I wanted to talk about was the case, but it wasn’t Sasha’s fault I kept hitting dead ends. “I’m driving out to the prison to talk with my dad again.”
“I don’t know how you deal with death and prisons.” Sasha frowned. “Are there ever any good days?”
“When we find someone alive.” That didn’t happen very often, though. SA Carson and SA Smith were digging through the evidence from the family storage unit still. They were supposed to send me any information they found.
“But if I didn’t work to put the men who did these things behind bars, there would be a lot more killing,” I explained.
“I guess you’re right.”
Arial walked over with our food. We each took a bite.
“Do you still want to have dinner on Friday?” Sasha asked before taking another bite of food.
Hell, I wanted to see her again tomorrow and not wait for Friday. “Yes. If you still want to.”
“Yes.” Her smile helped take the gloom from the day away for a second…
The door to the coffee shop burst open, and a tall man walked in, followed by Jared. He scanned the restaurant, and when his eyes landed on Sasha, he stormed over to the table. “What the fuck, Sasha? What part of someone is trying to frame you don’t you understand?”
She rolled her pretty blue eyes. “I understood, but since I was having lunch with a cop, I didn’t feel the need to take a bodyguard with me.”
“I don’t care who you meet. He is to be plastered to your ass until we figure out who killed Mr. Walker. That means he will be stationed outside of your house, and I gave him access to your Find My iPhone.”
“That’s an invasion of privacy.”
Jared crossed his arms over his chest. “And the company pays for the phone.”
The bodyguard grunted and walked to another table.
“Nice seeing you again, Jared,” I said as I put my sandwich down.
“Make sure she doesn’t get killed.” Jared huffed and walked out of the diner.
“I really think he is acting a little over the top.” When I went to open my mouth, she held up her hand. “But I understand where he is coming from.”
The rest of the lunch went fast. I walked Sasha back across the street with the bodyguard falling in behind us.
She leaned in and kissed me before walking up the stairs to NSS. I couldn’t help but stand and watch the sway of her ass as she climbed each one. Friday couldn’t come soon enough.
7
Sasha
Benji snuggled against my chest as I turned on the TV. I hadn’t heard from Quinn since lunch the day before. Tomorrow was supposed to be our date. I knew he had a lot going on with work and I didn’t want to bother him.
I moved Benji to the side and went to the kitchen to grab something to eat. My lips still tingled from the day before. I had never met someone I’d looked forward to seeing again. Most of the time, I went out with a date, had sex, and broke it off. With Brandon, I couldn’t wait to see him again. If his kiss was anything to go by, I wouldn’t want to come up for days.
Breaking news flashed across the screen. I grabbed a bowl of fruit from the fridge and climbed back on the couch. Benji snuggled next to me, waiting for me to drop a piece. His tail beat against the side of my leg as I watched the TV. It wasn’t very often I paid attention to what was going on in the news because it was depressing.
After finding out Brandon was working the serial killer case, I’d googled to see what information I could find. It’d led me down a rabbit hole. The HIS killer had a victim, and today was the third day since she’d gone missing. Periodically, I checked online to see if they’d found the victim.
A picture of a smiling young blonde dressed in uniform, standing next to Brandon, flashed across the screen, followed by the image of the same woman lying on the park grass, her hands crossed over her chest. Her long blond hair was gone. She wore a white nightgown.
I reached for my phone. My thumb hovered over his number for a second before pressing down.
The phone rang twice before his voice answered, “Hello?”
“I know you are probably busy, but I wanted to know how you were doing.”
I heard rustling of papers on the other end of the phone. “It hasn’t been the best day, but it’s good to hear your voice.” I blushed at the compliment. He made me feel like I was back in high school and had a crush on the hot football player.
Benji pushed at my hand. “I’m sorry about your partner. Are you working the case late tonight?”
He’d never told me his partner was the one who’d been taken, but after watching the news report, I’d put the links together.
“The FBI wants me to take a step back. I’m just going through my notes, then I plan to drown myself in a bottle of scotch.”
“I don’t have scotch, but I have wine and beer.”
Brandon let out a long sigh. “I’m not in the best mood to be around right now.”
“That’s okay. Benji will help you smile.”
My Corgi could put a smile on anyone’s face. He could get me through any bad day. I wanted to be there for Brandon.
“Benji?”
“He’s my dog. I will text you the address.”
“It might be late by the time I get there.”
Jared and I were done with the simulation. He had told me to take the tomorrow off, and I planned to spend the day getting ready for the date with Brandon.
The faint knock on the door woke me from my sleep. I glanced down at my phone. It was close to midnight. Benji moved off my chest and ran to the door, excited to see who’d come to visit us. I unlocked the deadbolt, and Brandon stood on the other side. His hair was a mess, and dark circles were under his eyes.
“If it’s too late, I can leave.”
Instead of answering, I pulled him into the apartment. Benji jumped at his leg, trying to get Brandon’s attention.
After a few seconds, he pulled back from the hug and kneeled next to me. “Hey, little fella.”
Benji ran circles around him before taking off and finding his ball.
Brandon walked over and set a file on my coffee table, along with his keys and wallet. If I had to guess, he hadn’t gone to sleep in over twenty-four hours.
“Are you sure you want a drink?”
“It’s probably not the right decision.” He pinched his brow. “I’ll take a glass of water and then be on my way home. Honestly, I didn’t even think about how late it was. I just left Tammy parents' house and drove straight here.”
There was no way I was going to let him drive home, but I would broach that subject later. Instead, I filled a glass of water and grabbed a bag of Hershey kisses from the counter and walked back over to the couch.
“Come on.” I patted the seat next to me, and he came over and sat. Benji jumped up on the couch and dropped his tennis ball on Brandon’s lap. When he tossed the ball down the hall, Benji took off.
“You realize you started somet
hing, and he will go for the rest of the night.” I laughed. As if on cue, he came prancing back down the hall with the ball in his mouth.
Brandon rested his hand on my thigh and tossed Benji his ball with the other hand. “Thank you for inviting me over. I’m probably not the best company.”
“How long have you guys been partners?”
The news had shown only one picture of Brandon and his partner. They reported that she lived alone, no kids or husband. She dedicated her free time to a youth center. Her parents were both still alive, and the news had shown a picture of both of them leaving the police station earlier in the day.
“Five years. I stopped by her folk’s house on the way over here. Time got away from me I planned to stop over and check on them, but Tammy’s mom wanted talk about old times. SA Carson tried getting me to leave work the second the story broke earlier today.”
“SA?”
“Sorry, SA stands for ‘special agent.’ He’s our liaison with the FBI, along with SA Smith. We spent the last twenty-four hours pulling every piece of data we had to find her. I even made a last ditch effort to see my father again. The fucker cut the timeline short. We had made it to the place she was kept twenty minutes before the news plastered her face all over. The crazy part was she’d been dead for over twenty-four hours. Something went wrong.”
Brandon grabbed the remote off the table and flipped the channel. I hadn’t realized I fell asleep watching the news, and his partner was still the main subject. The reporter was talking about how they had less than thirty days before HIS struck again.
“Sorry, I fell asleep with the news on.”
He squeezed his hand on my thigh. “It’s okay. They were sending a constant reminder we have thirty days to find the bitch.”
The news had never said anything about the serial killer being a woman. “You know who the person is?”
Brandon swore under his breath. “We have an idea, but I should’ve never said anything.”
I knew how vital it was to keep the information contained. There wasn’t a chance I would tell anyone. Hell, I only knew it might be a woman, and from the number of kills, that was strange. “Can I ask one question? And I promise to forget what you said.”
He took a sip of water before nodding. Benji was now curled up on his lap, completely ignoring me.
“After you said you were working the case… I might’ve googled to see what was going on. This person killed men, women, and a two teenagers. How could a woman kill this amount of people and move them? I thought serial killers were normally men.”
“Woman serial killers tend to kill more humanely. Every victim was killed by a type of poison. Law enforcement tends to look over women when looking for serial killers. Studies show there might be more woman killers out there than we know.”
No matter how much I disliked someone, I could never kill a person. No matter if I even joked about it, and after my boss getting murdered, I didn’t plan on ever making a comment about someone again. “I don’t think using poison is more humane.”
“The workings of a serial killer’s mind are interesting. They make rational decisions for every aspect of the kill. Men will stalk someone for a while and come up with a perfect justification in their heads. Women, on the other hand, tend to kill someone close to them. This killer is killing complete strangers based off…”
“I don’t know how you deal with death each day.” I didn’t point out that he hadn’t finished what he was going to say. I understood that he would need to keep specific details of his job to himself, and I would never expect him to tell me something that could jeopardize his career.
Brandon pinched the bridge of his nose. “It’s hard at times. Most of the time, I can separate my feelings from the victim and work on the case. HIS sent victim information straight to me as if they knew who I was. It felt personal, and that alone clouded my judgement. I keep second-guessing myself. What if I talked to my dad months ago? Would she even have been taken from her family?”
I’d done the what-if game in my head for years after my dad died. What if I’d been a better daughter? Would he have gone to the bar as much? That was where he’d met the men who talked him into joining a gang. Or what if I’d died instead of mom? It would’ve been cheaper, and he wouldn’t have gone to rob a bank and killed three innocent women.
“My last therapist told me, no matter what-ifs you run through your head, it won’t change the outcome. It will only send you into depression or pull you away from the ones still around you.”
For only spending a little time together, we were getting deeper than I had before with anyone. Not even Kayleen knew I went to therapy. For years, I blamed myself for both of my parents’ deaths.
“I know what you’re saying is true, but it’s harder sometimes to actually stop yourself from running things through your head. A couple of days ago, I found out something I believed to happen when I was ten and that led to my sister's death didn't happen the way I remembered it and wasn't the whole story. So, I understand, but the wound with Tammy is still too fresh to not run what-ifs.”
“It’s crazy how we just met, and I feel so comfortable sitting here talking to you.”
Brandon wrapped his arm around my shoulders and pulled me in closer. “I like it. I’m not sure where this is going to go, but I want to see it through. It’s late, and I should head home.” He leaned in and pressed a kiss to my lips.
When he went to pull back, I deepened the kiss and pulled him in tighter, wrapping my arms around his neck. We shifted on the couch, causing my shirt to ride up, and his fingers glided against my bare skin, causing fire to run through my body.
My back was pressed against the couch, and Brandon pulled back and rested his forehand against mine. “I should go before I can’t stop myself.”
I ran my tongue across my lips. “Even though my couch is comfy, it’s strange with Benji watching.” My dog's tail beat against the floor. We untangled our bodies, and my foot hit the coffee table, causing Brandon’s file to fall to the ground and all the contents to fall out.
“I’m so sorry.” I reached to help pick up the files. My heart stopped when I saw the first picture I picked up. I hadn’t seen the person since I was eight. His dark eyes glared at me through the photo as they had when I was younger. “Why do you have a photo of my father?”
8
Brandon
I reached for the photo in Sasha’s hand. Her face was as white as a sheet after she saw the picture of her father—one of the people my mom might’ve murdered. The FBI was digging through evidence, trying to figure out if my father was making up lies or telling the truth. Even though I wanted my father to spend time in jail, figuring out who committed the murders was taken over by the FBI.
I had a pile of the photos because we were trying to figure out who the next victim might be. HIS had deviated from the pattern when he took Tammy. Now we needed to figure out if she would go back to the same pattern or take someone else I knew. Even the thought made my stomach turn.
I flipped the photo over. “Are you sure this is your dad?” I pointed to the name written on the back, along with the date of birth. “It says his last name is Connors, and yours is Patterson.”
Sasha took the photo back from his hands and ran her fingers down the face of the victim. Clint Connors had a long rap sheet, including killing three women in a bank robbery.
“Yes, this is my dad,” she sighed. “He and my mother never married, and when I was born, my mom gave me her last name. It was never changed. Dad had talked about taking me to the courthouse after Mom died, but he fell into a lifestyle of drinking and doing drugs. The more he hung around his new friends, the less he came home, the less he cared if I was around.”
“How old were you when your mom died?” I asked.
“I was around six when my mom died of cancer and sent my father into a spiral. Then my dad was killed around the time I was eight.”
Right now would be the perfect time to tell her my da
d or mom was the reason she no longer had a dad. The words were on the tip of my tongue. Before entering the Navy, I’d changed my last name to avoid the stigma of my father attached to me. Everyone always wanted to know what it was like to live with a serial killer.
“Is the person who killed your partner the same as the person who killed my dad?” Sasha whispered.
“The person who killed your dad is dead, but HIS is killing people associated with those cases.” I grabbed the stack of photos and put them back in the folder. SA Carson had told me to go home; he never said I should stop working on the case.
“Then, is it a copycat?” Sasha placed her hand on my forearm. “Sorry. I shouldn’t be asking questions like that and putting you in a place that could comprise your job. It’s just that picture… I hadn’t seen one of him in a very long time.”
Benji jumped up on Sasha’s lap, licked her face, and spun around until he was comfy.
“You’re right. I can’t tell you much. There could possibly be a link between the case back then and the killer now. Tammy had no link to the person who killed your father.”
She shook her head, and her eyes traveled back to the closed folder. “My father wasn’t always an evil person. When my mother died, he changed, and not for the better. Depression set in, and when he finally made it out of the house, he met a group of men that made things worse and took him down a dark path.”
I reached over and grabbed her hand. “No matter what, your father deserved a fair trial.”
She frowned. “Honestly, my life was better in foster care. Ms. Carla put food on the table and let me study so I could go to school. After my mom died, I would go weeks with no food in the house. A few of the teachers would bring me snacks. I know a few called child protective services, but they were so far behind that they never made it to my house.”
