The Killing Ground

what she decided they would do anyway. “Yep, and we’ll see what Redmond thinks about this guy.”

Somehow, they drove to his place without realizing it. “Get some sleep, Matty. It’s gonna be busy tomorrow.”

“Ha, ha, I will.” He slid out of her car and poked his head back in. “I’ll bring coffee.”

“Thanks.” She threw him a mock salute and put the car in first, easing her foot off the clutch and lowering the gas pedal with skilled precision.

Here in her car, gliding through the deserted streets, was her sanctuary. At least, it should have been. Tonight, she couldn’t turn her mind off. She couldn’t make the events of the last few days stop colliding like pieces of flotsam floating around in troubled waters. She needed something to take the edge off, and when her car pulled up in front of her local bar, she knew she had no choice but to try and silence the voices with a little help.

Jordan slid on to a barstool and ordered a whiskey. She held up two fingers signaling she wanted a double. She didn’t nurse the first drink, merely leaned back and threw the contents of her glass down her throat. It stung momentarily, and when she winced, there was a second that her mind was empty. That was the peace she was looking for and had been evading her lately.

She was about to order another when a flash of red on the TV at the end of the bar caught her attention. “Hey, turn that up.”

The bartender slid a remote down the bar and nodded when Jordan held up two more fingers. When he set the drink in front of her, Jordan’s attention was already on the TV. A local reporter was interviewing Detective Foxx, who looked none too happy to be in front of the cameras.

“Do you have any suspects in this case?”

Rebecca gave the standard answer. “We’re investigating all possible leads.”

“Detective Foxx, this is the seventh victim. The citizens of Chicago would like to know if the Chicago Detective Division is getting any closer to making an arrest in the attempted murder of Julie Keppler and the other homicides?”

Rebecca looked as annoyed as Jordan felt. She hated when a reporter spoke in an overly concerned voice when beneath that plastered on fake smile, their fangs were ready to come out. “I’m afraid I’m not at liberty to reveal that information.”

“Detective Foxx, can you tell me if the CDD believes this is a serial killer? Are there similarities in the case to the other murders?”

“No comment.” Jordan noticed that Rebecca's lip was pursed angrily, and she figured the reporters might want to back off.

“Detective, the Mayor is calling this the most violent crime spree in Chicago history. Do you believe there is more than one person involved?”

“I’m not at liberty to say.” Rebecca's eyes narrowed.

“When did the FBI become involved in the investigation? Is this a joint task investigation? Has the CDD requested the FBI’s help since they have made no progress in catching the killer…or killers?”

Jordan thought Rebecca might have rolled her eyes, but she couldn’t be sure. She looked pointblank at the reporter. “I’m not going to speculate about the details of the case. I’m sure you understand that any information that is leaked could jeopardize this case and put more victims at risk.”

Not satisfied, the reporter pushed forward and hit Rebecca with a string of questions. She flicked her hand at one of the cops, and he quickly stepped in between Rebecca and the over-zealous reporter.

Jordan felt the corners of her mouth creep up. The cameras were still trained on Rebecca’s back, and she could swear she could see the hackles standing up on her neck. “I’ll give you credit, Detective Foxx. You don’t take shit from anybody.”

Thirty minutes and three double whiskeys later, Jordan was starting to relax. She looked at her watch and sighed. She took two twenties out of her wallet and threw them on the bar. It took her a record nineteen minutes to get home, shower, and when her head hit the pillow, Jack Daniels had somehow managed to make her forget everything she had seen today.

Chapter 9

Jordan yawned and smacked her lips together. Her tongue felt like a piece of dried-out leather. She twisted her body and dropped her feet over the side of the mattress, the rush of blood sending her headache into overdrive. She dropped her head in her palms and groaned loudly before she pushed herself up and started the shower. She loved whiskey, but last night, it had knocked her on her ass.

She showered, checked her messages and pulled into work a surprising three minutes after nine, which was earlier than most days. She walked into Matt’s office and took her coffee with a nod. It took her half the cup, and a good ten minutes before she acknowledged him. “Thanks.”

Matt chuckled softly in deference to the look in her eyes. “Looks like you need it.”

Jordan shook her head. “Busy night.”

“Besides the murder?” Matt asked incredulously.

Jordan looked askance at Matt as if to say you know me better than that. “Yeah. Workout before and drinks after.”

Matt had the good taste not to ask about the workout. He knew the kind of exercise his partner liked to get and more times than not, he interrupted her workouts. “So, Mitchell wants us to interview Julie today. She says she’s finally up to it.”

“We might as well do that before we see Redmond. Besides I’m still waiting for the autopsy report for the Hudson case.” It had only happened last night, and that quickly, she was just another victim.

Jordan downed the last of her coffee and chucked the cup into the trash can. She pushed herself up with a sigh. “Guess we might as well get this over with.”

Matt could sense her hesitation. “Yeah, I’m not looking forward to this either.”

Jordan pulled into the freight zone at Mercy and stepped out into the cold. The wind had picked up again off the lake, and it froze her bare fingers. She cinched her leather coat around her and wished that she had worn something heavier. “This fucking cold is killing me.”

Matt punched her in the arm with his gloved hand and pulled the collar of his thick North Face coat up. “Dude, I’ve been telling you for how many years. That coat ain’t good for shit except looking good.”

Jordan glared at Matt. “Looking good has kept me warm many nights, brother.”

“Whatever.” Matt rolled his eyes and pushed through the revolving door. He hadn’t gone to see Julie again, and his stomach roiled nervously. Hopefully, he would handle it better than his reaction to the crime scene last night.

They rode the elevator up in silence, all previous joking put aside. Jordan wrapped on the door softly, in case Julie was sleeping. Neither was surprised when a haggard looking Assistant Director Mitchell pulled the door open a few seconds later. She offered them a wary smile.

They stepped in almost silently in deference for Julie, not wanting to wake her if she was still asleep.

“Hey, guys.” Julie’s voice was low and still raspy, but she looked one hundred times better than when Jordan had seen her a couple of days ago. The bandage still covered the length of her neck, but her color was returning. Behind the weak smile, they could see the immense sadness in her eyes that no amount of pretending could cover.

“Julie, hi.” Jordan gave her a small hug, careful not to hurt her. Matt, much more uncomfortable about the situation, stood back and nodded aloofly.

“Hey, Julie.” He tried not to appear too out of place, but the constant shuffle with his feet gave him away.

“Jeez, Matty.” Jordan shot him a look. “Chill, will ya?”

He smiled sheepishly and sloughed off to the corner to occupy one of the empty chairs.

Jordan turned back to Julie and smiled. “How ya feeling?”