Double Standards, page 9
Liam and I exchanged a glance before I answered. “We did. Why?”
“Well, your hunches were correct. It did match the substance under the victim’s fingernails. We got the signed confession from Asher Rayson, but that’s not the intriguing part of all this.” Dr. Hathaway paused, presumably for dramatic effect. “Hanna Garrison had the same substance under her nails. It was slightly different, but the make-up was essentially the same. The grime from that alleyway indicates that both this victim and Hanna Garrison were in that particular alleyway.”
Liam
Hanna Garrison? Isn’t that—
“That doesn’t make sense. Hanna Garrison was abducted from her apartment. We have neighbor testimonies proving that she was home,” Callie blurted, her eyes frantic. The boldness of her eye color stood out against her white dress. She looked like a dark-haired angel in heels, and as bad as it was, it took everything in me not to glance at her cleavage.
For God’s sake, we were standing in a morgue. I needed to get my shit together and fast, but it was as if she intentionally left her dress buttoned one less button than necessary.
“We still believe that,” Terry said. “But this information is… interesting, to say the lease, and we have to consider every angle. This information could be useful for you and Liam. If you’ve got some free time today, you two should crack open the case and put your heads together.”
Callie took a shuddering breath. I looked over at Terry. “We’ll take care of it, thank you. We’ll go write up our reports on this case and then turn our attention to that one.”
Terry dipped his chin in acknowledgement. “Let me know if you need anything.”
Callie looked as if she’d seen a ghost, her face blanched. She didn’t say anything else, just rigidly turned toward the door so we could head upstairs. She followed me, and this elevator trip was absent of sexual tension or flirty banter.
My arousal had come to an abrupt end last night when my ex-wife blew up my phone, demanding to know where I’d transferred to. I’d experienced some pleasure in ignoring her attempts to get a response out of me, even if it was small consolation compared to the desire still coursing through me.
“Let me know when you finish your report, okay?” Callie said as we stepped into our office.
“Of course,” I told her, feeling troubled at her unease.
Around ten, Callie locked her computer and stood up to stretch. I slyly glanced at her to see her white dress ride up ever so slightly. I forced myself to look away; I’d been in her presence for only 24 hours and she already had me feeling like a horny teenager all over again. It wasn’t exactly enjoyable to be fighting off these thoughts when I should have been focused on my work.
“I’m going to take a quick break now that I’m done with my report from yesterday’s case. I’ll be back soon,” she said as she bounded out of the office.
I took that as a cue to take my own break, seeing as I had also finished my case report. I wandered out into the hallway and caught sight of Callie’s friend who I’d met yesterday. I was also pretty sure she was the same woman I met at last year’s Gala when Callie ushered her out of the event. What’s her name? Sophia? Sylvia?
Her dark eyes lit up when she saw me. “Liam, right? Callie’s new partner?” She inquired.
“Good memory,” I responded with a cool smile.
“Sophie Reyes. I’m Callie’s best friend, in case she didn’t fill you in,” she joked, flashing me a perfect smile. She was absolutely stunning.
Oh.
“Best friend, huh? I’m surprised. She’s very… work-oriented,” I commented. I leaned against the railing of the catwalk we were standing on.
Sophie giggled. “She’s always been like that. I’ve admired her work ethic for years. It’s how she got promoted to Detective so quickly.”
“She’s definitely ambitious,” I murmured. “I’m just trying to get the hang of her as a person. I feel like one minute she likes me, and the next she’s reserved. It’s a little intimidating,” I said, half-serious, because I really didn’t know how to act around her.
“Why don’t we go grab some coffee and I’ll help you out?”
“Please,” I pleaded. “I’ll take all the help I can get.” I followed Sophie as she turned to go down the stairs to the main floor.
Sophie was lithe and petite, a smidge shorter than Callie, but exuded a strong female presence. Not unlike Callie in that manner, actually. I suppose it made sense why they were best friends.
The Garrison case. She can probably give me insight on how to approach this.
“I should probably tell you,” I began. “Terry asked us to revisit the Garrison case, and all the others under ‘The Wring Bearer’ because we may have found more evidence.”
Sophie paused at the bottom of the stairs and looked at me with incredulously. “Tell me you’re joking.” When I shook my head, she said, “Did she tell you what that case did to her?”
I nodded. “She did. I was hoping you could give me pointers. What’s the best way to handle this with her? I know it’s a delicate situation, and I don’t want her to get hurt again.”
She puffed her cheeks out as we wound our way through the building and out into the crisp autumn air. “Callie can’t resist herself when it comes to that case. It’s her twisted obsession. Just… be careful, okay? Keep an eye on her, and if she starts developing any bad habits, you have to make her aware of it. She was in a dark place for a really long time. And with everything going on with Owen—,” she cut herself off abruptly, her jaw snapping shut.
So, not everything’s good on the home-front. Interesting…
I looked at her quizzically. “Owen? What about him?” I asked.
“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have said anything,” she muttered.
“Actually, this information is important. I’ll know how to better approach these topics,” I admitted, only half-truthfully. “I got the sense last night that maybe they weren’t in the best place.”
She frowned up at me. “Last night?”
I nodded. “We were working on a case late, and then she messaged me on Facebook a couple of hours later.”
Sophie guffawed. “First of all, Callie is rarely bold enough to do something like that, so that says something about you. I’m so glad you’re here now and she’s partially filled you in so I have someone to talk to about this. Lovingly, of course,” she said. “They have such an odd relationship. I don’t know why they’re still together.”
“How do you mean?” Aside from how I’m wondering the same thing…
She stopped at a crosswalk, waiting for the signal to turn green. “He’s good to her as far as I know, but… well, he’s celibate. Which is really hard on her.”
I coughed, trying to conceal the fact that I choked on my own spit. “You’re kidding, right? Because she and I…” my voice tapered off as I searched Sophie’s eyes. I could tell she definitely wasn’t joking.
She shook her head morosely. “I wish I was. Your run-in with her last Christmas was the last time she got any. I feel bad for her. I know she’s trying for his sake, but it’s an important aspect in a relationship for her, no matter how hard she tries to deny it. So, I think there’s a part of her that’s not happy, but he was there for her through some dark times. If you ask me, I think she just needs a little push to figure out what she wants, but I’m not sure what it’ll take to get her there.”
I was still trying to wrap my brain around her first tidbit of information. “Wait, you’re telling me that ten months ago was the last time she had sex? As in, when she and I banged at the Christmas Gala?” Sophie nodded as we crossed the crosswalk. “I think I’d die,” I clucked. Even married life wasn’t that bad.
“Right! We’re adults, not teenagers. I wish he’d least try to please her in other ways, but he doesn’t. Physical touch just isn’t his love language. I know Callie’s going to hit a wall someday.”
My mind wandered for just a moment, to the idea of a sex-crazed Callie, when all the pieces of the puzzle started to fall in place. That explained why she was so easily flustered, how she got so worked up, and her messages to me the night before…
What would she look like splayed on my hotel bed?
Okay, that image isn’t helping me.
I shook it from my mind.
“She deserves more than that, at the very least someone who gives her some attention. Did you know he showed up in our office yesterday?”
Sophie peered at me. “No!” She shrieked, her eyes widening to the size of the moon. “In the near year they’ve been together, I’ve never met him.”
I rolled my eyes as we approached a coffee shop. I opened the door to let her in first. “Yeah, I think he felt threatened by me so he came to scope out the competition. I really don’t know why,” I said. “You’re not missing out on much.”
Sophie cackled. “Yikes. Anyway, yeah, I hope she ends things with him soon.”
“Me too.”
She curiously searched my face for… something. She didn’t say anything, just turned to the barista. We ordered our coffee, maintaining a lighter topic of conversation on the walk back. As soon as we walked through the precinct doors, we saw Callie. She was striking up a conversation with one of the booking clerks. She glanced over her shoulder, her blue eyes catching the sunlight that came through the doors we had just opened. She caught my gaze briefly before flickering to Sophie. An unnamed emotion flitted across her features before she turned her back on us again.
Sophie whistled. “That was not a friendly look.”
“You’re telling me,” I grumbled. “I have to go be in an office with her now.”
“She’ll warm up to you and you’ll understand how she operates soon. Just give it some time.”
Callie returned to our office a few minutes after I did. She seemed colder, more distant than she had before, and I wondered what could’ve happened. Was it because she felt uncomfortable after our conversation last night? Was it what happened—or rather, what didn’t happen—on the elevator?
I couldn’t pinpoint where her mood shift originated. She said nothing to me, a mass of silence and rigid body language.
I know Sophie said to give it time, but damn.
She started pulling out files from the cabinet behind her and piling them on her desk. When she finished, she sighed heavily and stared at them with dismay. I wanted to ask her what was on her mind, but her expression was so distant that I wasn’t sure she would even hear me.
Fuck it.
“Do you want to talk about whatever’s bothering you?” I asked, keeping my voice low.
She shrugged one shoulder and sucked on her lower lip. “I’m not sure I’m ready,” she responded, her voice barely above a whisper.
I leaned back in my chair. “You’ll never be ready when a case has torn you apart,” I said, hoping to comfort her in some way.
She finally turned her eyes on me, the blue in them glacial and cold. “You’ve felt this way before?”
“Every detective does at some point in their career. Now, why don’t you brief me? Maybe it’ll help.” It would probably be easy to further get under her skin if I wanted, but she didn’t seem like she was in the mood for it. Besides, my goal wasn’t to be a total ass, just sometimes an ass.
Callie took a deep breath. “You’ve reviewed the case files, so you’ve probably heard him referred to as ‘The Wring Bearer.’ The media gave him the nickname this despite our best efforts to keep it out of the press.”
Under normal circumstances, I would have asked the reason behind the nickname. But with The Wring Bearer, it was clear as day and about as subtle as a knife. The perp wrung his victims’ necks, and then, postmortem, dressed them in wedding attire.
“Are you familiar with the Manhattan cases?” I asked.
“A little bit, but you had access to those files, so you’ll be my resource for those ones.”
I nodded. “I came in a little early this morning and put in a call to MNP. I had all the case files signed over to us in case we ever needed to hand them over to the FBI.”
Her lips parted ever so slightly. “Did you do that for me?” She wondered, her voice delicate.
I smiled at her. “This case is your baby. You deserve to have all the information at your disposal, and to be able to make that judgment call.”
“Thank you,” she breathed.
A rare token of gratitude that made my chest warm.
For a moment, Callie’s walls seemed to fall before she returned back to her strictly-business attitude. “So, the Manhattan cases,” she pressed on.
I nodded. “From what I know, the suspect doesn’t have a gender or race preference.”
Callie pulled out her notebook, and on the first few pages were the names of the Newark victims. “Nope. It’s part of why we had a hard time getting any solid leads,” she responded, distracted as she tapped next to each name. “We’re lucky that all of the victims, including the ones in New York, have been identified.”
I stood up and walked over to her desk, sitting in one of the chairs across from her. “Tell me what else you remember about the case.”
She paused for a moment. The tips of her lips twitched ever so slightly. “Like you said, he doesn’t have a race or gender preference. They aren’t high-risk victims because they all lived relatively low-risk lifestyles. Each victim had a different occupation. We couldn’t seem to find any connection between the victims.”
I crossed my arms over my chest. “Could they be victims of opportunity?”
She shook her head. “It’s highly unlikely. Our first victim, Hanna Garrison, was abducted in the small time frame she spent along every Wednesday. Only someone who was familiar with her schedule would have known she was alone at that time every week.”
“It could have been a coincidence,” I speculated. She grimaced, and I hated how in that moment I realized I’d kill to know what she was thinking about.
Chapter 5

Callie
Coincidence.
I refrained from glowering at Liam.
Coincidence. I hated that word. Maybe I was just being cynical and pessimistic, but I whole-heartedly didn’t believe in coincidences.
“In this line of work, there’s no such thing as coincidences,” I deadpanned. “I know you know that. They don’t exist in law enforcement.”
He raised his eyes to mine, but I had to look away. It wasn’t acceptable that I felt so drawn to him; I’d worked with him for a day and a half, and I was already unraveling.
“Okay, so it’s not a coincidence,” he conceded. “What about the others?”
“The second, third, and fourth victims were abducted in a similar fashion. Brandon Parks was abducted after dropping his eldest daughter off at school. Trisha Jones was abducted after dropping her teenage son off at soccer practice. William Jenkins was taken from his house while his wife was at her weekly book club meeting. They were all alone.”
I was angry and cranky today. At first I’d been happy to be at work, but then my emotions and desire got mixed up in the elevator, which set me off for reasons I couldn’t pin down. Being around Liam made me squirrelly with excitement, which only made me feel guilty. Then, to top it off, Liam and Sophie were hanging out on break, coffee in their hands. It was hardly incriminating, but I couldn’t help the stab of jealousy in my chest.
Confused and conflicted, I stuffed down everything I was feeling and threw up my walls. Thank God I had therapy tomorrow. I almost wished it was today.
Liam met my gaze again, his inscrutable green eyes like haloes around the pupils. I tried to resist the feeling that they were burning holes in my body. “You have a point,” he said. “So, you think the suspect stalks his victims first? Learns their routines and time frames they’ll be alone?”
“Absolutely. It makes sense. The timeline between each kill and the way they’re being abducted matches the habits of a stalker.”
He ran his tongue over his lower lip as he pondered my words. The sheen left on his pouty lips drew my gaze in.
Why is that so attractive?
He picked up a case file from my desk and opened it. “Do you think it could be someone they knew personally?”
I raised my eyebrows at him. “Between the four here and the three in Manhattan? It doesn’t really seem plausible.”
“It’s still a possibility. He could be posing as someone everyone would trust. Did you guys consider that?”
I hesitated. “I had brought it up once, but I wasn’t the lead investigator. My first partner overruled that almost immediately. I dropped it when he threatened to take me off the case. But he had a point. Even if it’s someone they knew and trusted, he’d still have to lure them to his means of transportation.”
“Which was likely a large vehicle for convenience purposes,” Liam said.
I closed my eyes to think, losing myself in my thoughts momentarily. It felt refreshing to revisit this case with another set of eyes on board. It gave me… hope.
“Wait, wait. You may be onto something. If it wasn’t someone they knew and trusted…” I paused as I tried to collect my thoughts. “He could have easily posed as someone in need of help, or that there was some sort of emergency. Do you see where I’m going with this?”
He gawked at me, and it broke me from my strange reverie. I met his stare. I couldn’t stop my gaze from wandering south to his strong, defined jaw and kissable lips. I remembered what they felt like, what they tasted like, and suddenly it didn’t seem completely ridiculous to feel this way since we’d already slept together.
I cleared my throat. “Liam, are you paying attention to me?”
He nodded. “Yes, but maybe a little too much,” he said brazenly, winking at me.
My breath caught. I turned my attention to the open files on my desk. “Liam, if we’re going to be partners, if we’re going to work together, then we’re going to have to set this…” I paused, gesturing toward the invisible connection between us before continuing, “aside. So maintaining an appropriate relationship and paying attention is key when I’m brainstorming like this. I take my work very seriously.” I struggled to get all the words out—I was breathless, flustered, agitated, and irritable.
