by Meg Anne
He frowned, opening his mouth to retort—
Skye gave a curt nod and headed to the door before he could drag her into his life any further than she’d already dragged herself.
Stupid, stupid, stupid! Skye stepped out onto the sidewalk and started the long walk back to her apartment. How could I have been so stupid? To go there like that, and warn him in the creepiest way possible… what was she thinking?
Hell, she wouldn’t be surprised if something did happen and he came looking for her as the number one suspect! She probably would if the roles were reversed. Just what was it about this particular vision that had her sticking her nose in their business?
Murder. His sister’s murder. That’s what was different. This woman’s death would be no accident, no turn of fate. Hell, it wasn’t even a wrong place at the wrong time kind of thing. This would be cold-blooded murder, and Skye knew deep in her bones that she had to stop it.
Somehow.
Grim determination had her lengthening her strides. Whether or not Lucas heeded her warning, Skye couldn’t leave it up to him.
This one was on her.
There were going to be a lot of long nights in her future. Time to get some work done so that she could get a nap in before returning to the diner once the sun went down.
Chapter 4
Lucas
Lucas raced outside, searching the early morning commuters as they rushed past him to catch the bus or scurry off to one office building or another, but Skye was nowhere to be found. What the hell did she mean, keep an eye out for Lizzie? Isn’t that what he’d been doing since the day Lizzie was born?
If he hadn’t felt so uncomfortable last night, he might have considered her warning simply that: a warning. But the way she’d said it made him believe she knew something. And with her showing up here the very next day? No way there wasn’t some connection.
He stood on the street searching for her in the crowd and shook his head. He was not a man who put much stock into random coincidences. Something was off, and he had every intention of finding out what.
After stepping back into the diner, he made his way over to the seat he’d been sitting in next to Skye.
“Did you chase her off again?” Lizzie threw her hands on her hips.
“Why do you always assume it’s me? Maybe she just doesn’t like to stay in the same place for too long.”
“Well, let’s see… you insulted her artwork last night, and this morning, she bails as soon as you get here.” She tapped her finger against her chin, staring up at the ceiling. “Doesn’t seem too farfetched for me to believe you said something, again.” She leveled her gaze on him.
“I don’t suppose you’ll be letting me live that down anytime soon?”
She leaned close and grinned. “What kind of sister would I be if I just let you off the hook that easy?”
“The best kind?”
“Aren’t I already?” She winked. “You might want to think carefully before you reply. Your breakfast depends on it.”
Lucas groaned; he walked right into that one. There was nothing he could safely say if he had any hope of getting food before heading into the precinct. Instead, he picked up his coffee cup and drained its contents.
She laughed as she walked back into the kitchen.
“Women,” he muttered. It was only eight-forty and he’d already had a run-in with two of them that left his brain feeling more scrambled than his eggs would be. There wasn’t enough coffee in the world to help a man mentally prepare for a verbal showdown that early in the morning.
Lizzie set a heaping plate of eggs and bacon in front of him.
Lucas looked up at her, smiling.
She presented a small dish of her special cheese sauce. “You know I wouldn’t forget.”
“Give it here,” he demanded, holding out a hand for the coveted treat.
“Not so fast,” she said, holding the dish just out of reach. “If you want this, you have to promise me something.”
“Anything,” he said without hesitation.
“You find Skye and apologize properly. There’s no way she’ll want to be friends with me if you keep running her off.”
There were no two ways about it. Lucas pouted, going into full sulk mode. “I didn’t even do anything this time.”
“That’s not the point.”
“Lizzie—”
“Do you want to start making your own breakfast?”
“For fuck’s sake, fine. I promise. Are you happy now?”
Her smile was blinding as she handed him the little dish. “Very.”
“At least one of us is,” he muttered.
“What was that?” she asked, already making a move to pluck the dish from his hands.
He was about two seconds from turning into Gollum and hissing “my precious” at her. If she came any closer, he’d lose the battle entirely. “Nothing.”
“That’s what I thought.”
Once her back was turned, he stuck his tongue out, not caring at all that he was a grown-ass man and a highly decorated detective for the Chicago P.D. When it came to siblings, there were some things you were never too old to do.
Twenty minutes later, Lucas made his way up the stairs and into the old brick building that housed the Chicago Police Department. Once inside, he carefully navigated his way around the throng of people waiting to pay parking tickets or to bail out their unlucky relatives currently sleeping off a night of bad decisions behind bars. It was like a carefully choreographed dance that only a veteran could accomplish without spilling a drop of coffee.
Lucas stepped into the elevator behind two rookies coming off the night shift.
“Morning, MacConnell,” one of them said.
Lucas dipped his head in greeting but didn’t engage further. He had a bit of a reputation in the precinct and really didn’t have the energy to deal with a case of hero worship this early. That wasn’t necessarily just his own ego talking either. From his first few months on the force, Lucas quickly made a name for himself, finding leads and solving cases that had stumped long-time veterans. He made department history by getting promoted from a beat cop to homicide detective in just under six months. Such a quick rise was unheard of, but even so, no one had anything to say about ‘paying dues’ or ‘special treatment’. His record spoke for itself.
The elevator doors slid open as it stopped at the third floor. Lucas lifted his travel mug in farewell as he got out of the elevator and made his way toward his desk. The office was a bustling hive of activity, the phones ringing off the hook, and the various men and women that comprised Chicago’s finest busy answering calls in between bouts of note-taking or file searching. It was chaotic, but it was home. There was nowhere in the world where Lucas felt more himself.
Besides, it’s not like he had anyone to go home to. His closest relationships were with his sister and a pit bull named Lucy, which was depressing if he thought about it for too long. But after seven failed relationships in as many years, with women who seemed only interested in becoming the future Mrs. MacConnell and spending his money or sleeping with his friends, Lucas gave up on relationships and threw himself into his work. Working cases made sense. They were puzzles with actual solutions. Women… not so much. Except Lucy. Feed her, walk her, take her to the park to throw a ball around for an hour or two and she was happy. Why couldn’t all women be that easy to please?
“MacConnell!”
Lucas turned toward the chief. “Morning, Hank.”
“I have a live one for you. Come see me once you’re settled.”
Lucas raised a brow. It wasn’t uncommon for Chief Daniels to ask him to overlook a case that came in the night before, but there was something about the grayish cast to his mahogany skin that let Lucas know this was not a drug-deal-gone-bad kind of case.
“Be right there.”
Hank gave him a thankful smile that looked more like a grimace as he made his way to his office.
Setting his mug on his desk, Luc
as fired up his computer and flipped through the messages that had come in while he’d been off. A couple of leads on one of his opens and a tip from his C.I. about a possible shooting suspect. Lucas made a mental note to follow up on those as he typed in a name. Sure, he had more important things to do, but he’d promised his sister, hadn’t he?
Skye Giovanni’s bio popped up on his monitor.
“Gotcha,” he murmured.
Address, date of birth, work address, and associated phone numbers. Lucas quickly jot down the info; he’d be able to find her when he had the time. Folding up the paper, he put it into his pocket and closed the browser before heading into the chief’s office.
Hank gestured for Lucas to shut the door behind him, and Lucas’ stomach tightened with the familiar tug of unease and anticipation each new case brought about. A closed door meant this meeting was for his ears only, solidifying the significance of what he was about to hear.
The door whispered closed with a click, and Lucas lowered himself into a faded burgundy chair. “What’s up, Chief?”
“We caught a double last night.”
Lucas nodded for him to continue.
“Deluca and Campbell answered the call, but this shit is way out of their league.”
Frank Deluca and Jonas Campbell were great cops, but they tended to make the easy arrest, which meant they didn’t spend time combing through messy details. They closed lots of cases, but there had been more than a few whispers that they didn’t always find the right man.
Lucas nodded slowly. “Alright, two stiffs. What’s special about them?”
“No IDs have been made.”
Lucas raised a brow. That wasn’t totally unusual in the first twenty-four hours, but the way Hank said it let him know there was more to the story. “We waiting for dentals and prints?”
Chief Daniels grimaced. “That’s impossible, unfortunately. The jaws of the victims were removed, and all fingers have been cut off.”
Lucas frowned, rubbing his chin.
“That was before the bodies were spit-roasted, at least as far as we can tell from the pictures.”
“Spit-roasted?” Lucas asked, leaning forward, his elbows on his knees.
Hank gave a curt nod. “Totally charred. No identifiable marks on either of ‘em. The M.E. is saying the fire burned hotter than anything she’s seen outside of a lab in her lifetime. No clue what the source was. Chemical maybe.” Hank scratched his head.
“So, what you’re saying is we have nothing.”
The chief nodded. “Pretty much.”
Lucas gave a low whistle.
“We have the scene roped off, if you want to take a look in person.”
“Matthews in yet?” His partner was notorious for being late, but Lucas didn’t really want to wait.
Hank nodded. “Got here just before you. Waited to talk to you before looping him in.”
Lucas was already standing. “I’ll fill him in on the way there.”
“Address has already been sent to your phone.”
“On it.”
“Oh, one more thing.”
“Yeah?” Lucas asked, looking over his shoulder.
“There was a message, looks like it was written in blood.”
A chill of foreboding ran down his back. This was definitely not their usual case at all. “What’d it say?” His muscles tensed in anticipation.
Hank shrugged. “Don’t know. Wasn’t in a language we recognized.”
“Great. The devil worship cases are always the most fun.”
Chief Daniels smiled, looking relieved that Lucas didn’t seem bothered by the details. “Keep me filled in.”
“Sure thing, Chief.”
Lucas’ smile dropped as he walked out of the office. He didn’t like the sound of this case. The amount of ritual incorporated into the crime scene told him there was no way this murder was a one-off. A shiver of foreboding ran through him, he had the sinking feeling that this was just the beginning.
Chapter 5
Lucas
The GPS led them to the warehouse district near Union Park, to a brand-new facility that hadn’t even seen its first renter.
Bet they have a hell of a time renting the place now.
Lucas looked up at the building as he and Matthews got out of the car, his veins thrumming with the low, familiar buzz of visiting a crime scene for the first time.
After stepping through the yellow crime scene tape, they pushed open the door and were immediately assaulted with the stomach-churning scent of charred skin and death. Given the chief’s description of the scene, Lucas thought he was prepared for what they would find, but no amount of information could have prepared him for the grizzly scene.
Blood spattered the walls, painting them a grotesque red. The bodies had been dismembered, and he sure as hell hoped it had been done once they were already dead. If that wasn’t enough, the victims were also burned beyond recognition, and he could all but feel the pain radiating from them when he knelt beside their charred corpses.
Lucas closed his eyes. He’d seen his share of murder scenes and not one of them was easy, but this was next level shit. What would drive someone to commit something so fucking horrible? There was no way in hell any sane person had done this—this crime had been the work of a deranged psychopath. He was sure of it.
Matthews had taken the call from the M.E. on the way in; she’d been able to determine the gender of the victims. Both were male and, from bone density, she placed them in their late twenties. Lucas grimaced as he looked down at what was left of the two men, so close to his age with so much life still ahead of them. What a damn shame.
He would get to the bottom of this. He’d find out who had killed them and why, then put that bastard away for life and then some.
“This is fucking disgusting.” Matthews kneeled on the ground to examine the burn marks on the otherwise unmarred concrete. “Now, how the hell does a fire burn this hot and not torch the entire place?”
“You got me.” Lucas studied the black char and shook his head. Strange.
“Why would someone do this?” Matthews asked, although it wasn’t clear whether or not he was looking for an answer.
‘Sometimes bad things can happen to good people for no reason at all.’
Lucas frowned as Skye’s warning floated across his mind. He looked around the room, searching for some method to this madness.
In all his years on the force, he’d learned one thing: to trust his own instinct. And right now, that tug in his gut could not be ignored.
“There’s the message.” He gestured to the far wall opposite the door. “Chief said it’s not in any recognizable language.”
Matthews looked up, his lips curling as he tried to make out the words written in caked blood.
Lucas smiled, looking down at his partner. “Ready to go find out what our killer wanted us to know?”
“You go on ahead. I’ll keep looking around.”
“You know CSI has already been through here, right?”
Matthews nodded. “Yeah, but maybe they missed something.”
“Yeah, okay, chicken shit.” Lucas chuckled.
Matthews was a damn good partner, and someone Lucas could always count on to have his back, but the man’s aversion to blood wasn’t the greatest trait for a homicide detective. Still, they made it work, with minimal teasing.
Lucas turned and moved closer to the wall marred with blood. Runic designs were arranged in a seemingly random pattern, spelling out something important enough to have been written in what appeared to be the victims’ blood. The killer obviously wanted to send a message, so why write it in another language?
He stepped closer to get a better look at the symbols. The drips of blood made it hard to determine where one ended and the next began. What the hell did they mean? His vision began to waver as a buzzing sound filled his ears. His pulse pounded, and he reached forward to press his fingers to the wall. Just before they made contact, Matthews pulled him b
ack to reality.
“You ask me, this whole case screams ritual murder.” His partner moved to stand next to him and tore Lucas’ focus from the message on the wall. “Any idea what it says?”
“Not a damn clue,” he responded as he took out his phone to snap a picture. “You see anything that was missed?”
Matthews shook his head. “Nope. CSI combed this place thoroughly. You get what you need?”
“Yeah. What do you say we get the hell out of here?”
“Sounds like a plan to me.”
The two men made their way to the door, taking time to ensure that they re-sealed the crime scene before heading back downtown.
Chapter 6
Skye
Someone banged on her door, and Skye shot out of bed.
“What the hell?” she grumbled, reaching for her phone to check the time. Four in the afternoon. She’d been asleep for nearly three hours already and had hoped to sleep for at least another two hours before heading to watch the diner for the evening.
Another knock.
“This had better be good.” Skye pulled her wrap tighter around herself to cover up her tiny shorts and tank.
She checked the peephole, her mouth falling open at the sight of Lucas’ bowed head. How had he found her? What was he doing at her apartment? He had a drink carrier in one hand and was checking his phone with the other. He wore the same dark suit as earlier, but he’d taken his jacket off and rolled up the sleeves of his gray button-up. Skye was a sucker for rolled-up sleeves. There was something deliciously sexy about a man’s forearms, and Lucas was no exception. The fine blonde hairs on his tanned arm caught the light from the hallway, distracting her and keeping her frozen in place on her side of the door.
