from any branch. Something about too much arrogance and too little street training. While federal agents—Kalina assumed—probably thought cops had too much time on their hands and didn’t know their ass from a hole in the wall. How she could play both sides she wasn’t sure, but it was a guess that made a lot of sense to her.
“I’m just working with them on this case.”
“You’re following that smooth criminal Roman Reynolds? Be careful of him,” Reed warned.
This was a conversation she definitely did not want to have with Reed. “It’s a job, Reed. Like all our others. So you have a list of possible suspects for these murders?” Changing the subject was the best course of action.
“Nah, these girls were nobodies. No family, no addresses, nothing.”
Just like her, Kalina thought with a pang to her chest. If not for her job, these women could have been her.
“So that means it’s not worth finding their killer?” Even to herself her tone sounded defensive. The surprised look on Reed’s face confirmed it.
“I didn’t say that. It just makes the pool of suspects that much deeper. If we had good background information, some type of friendships or connections, we’d have a starting point. At this stage all we know is that they were killed in the same manner.”
Kalina rubbed her palms up and down her thighs, willing herself to calm down. Suddenly she felt very edgy. “I see what you mean. Maybe I could pull some of my contacts, see if they’ve heard anything on the streets.”
Reed’s smile was slow. “You’d do that for me, baby?” he asked, leaning forward, resting his elbows on his knees, and reaching for her hands.
With an easy movement she lifted her hands, putting one up to her head to smooth down the sides of her hair while the other rested on the desk. “I could ask around to help get a lead on the case.”
“But aren’t you working on something right now with the feds?”
Hearing about the brutal murders had turned her attention from that, even though she wasn’t a homicide detective.
“Look, thanks for the offer,” Reed said his eyes having a hard time staying focused on her face. Obviously the small hint of cleavage that showed in her dress was more appealing. “But I think I’ve got this under control.”
She nodded. “Okay.” Sure, he had this under control, just like the other twenty-something murder cases still unsolved on his desk. Reed was definitely not the top detective in the homicide department; something about him being lazy and more than a little disheartened by the crime he’d seen in his years on the force took away any chance of that title. Still, he kept his job, and they kept giving him new cases. No wonder crime was steadily on the rise.
“Hope you catch this guy,” she said, standing and picking up her large purse with her own files and information inside.
Reed stood, too, this time grabbing her wrist. “We should really get together outside work. How about dinner?”
He was taller than her, but not taller than Rome. His slim build looked athletic and capable but didn’t exude the strength and dominance that Rome’s did. And she was losing her everlasting mind for thinking about a man who drove her absolutely crazy.
“Ah, that’s probably not a good idea,” she found herself saying. “We work together, remember?”
“Actually we don’t,” he said rubbing his fingers up her bare arm. The motion irritated her, scraped against something raw inside. “We’re in different departments and you seem to be moving on to bigger and better things.”
She sensed he was talking about the DEA again and wondered why he kept mentioning that. Probably jealousy. There was a lot of that in the department. But she was the last person anybody should feel jealous of.
Pulling her arm from his grasp, she gave a light chuckle. “I’ll always be a cop at heart,” she said. “I just think we should keep our relationship casual.”
“Oh, I’m all for casual,” he said, but his hands found their way to her hips, pulling her closer to him in the small confines of his cubicle. “No strings attached. You know what I mean?”
What Kalina knew for certain was that he was making her sick—literally. Her stomach roiled and she thought she was going to hurl right on his Pittsburgh Steelers tie—which wouldn’t have been a crime at all since they were rivals to both the Baltimore Ravens and Washington Redskins.
“What I mean, Reed,” she said, pushing away from him and pulling her purse onto her arm in a defensive manner, “is that we should stay co-workers. That’s all. I’m not interested in anything more.” There, that should be clear enough.
Reed nodded, dragging his tongue over his lower lip in a move that was probably meant to arouse. Instead it sort of provoked. Kalina took a step closer to him using the point of her finger to poke into his chest.
“Just co-workers. Got it?” Her last poke sent Reed stumbling back, and he looked at her strangely.
“Cool. Cool,” he said, holding his hands up in the air as if she were about to arrest him. “I get it. Don’t get all huffy. Actually, why don’t you get moving to your big assignment with the feds? I’m sure they need you there,” he said snidely.
Yeah, he was jealous and now scorned. She didn’t care, she was tired of talking to him anyway. “It’s the DEA and yes, they need me there.”
Walking out of the precinct, she was racked by unsteady feelings both physical and emotionally. The DEA didn’t need her; she was a nobody, remember? Just like those dead girls. Her stomach roiled again almost in rebellion against the words spoken in her mind.
In the safety of her car she cranked up the air-conditioning and set out for home, her mind tracing over the facts.
Four people had been killed. Mutilated.
The females sexually assaulted, then mutilated.
Connected?
Not to her case, Kalina thought as she drove back to her apartment. It had nothing to do with her. While she was at the station she’d plugged in descriptions of the three goons she’d seen last night and come back with nothing. Something moved inside her, pushing past the nausea that had assailed her just moments ago. She rolled down the window, needing new air to breathe, and was greeted with a dry wind that filtered into the car’s interior.
From the passenger seat her cell phone chirped. She activated her Bluetooth and answered, “Hello?”
“Hi. It’s me, Mel. So we’re having a cookout tomorrow and I thought about you. You know, being alone and everything, I figured you’d like to come over, have a couple burgers, and hang out.”
Her co-worker, the chipper secretary with the envious home life. The word no was on the tip of Kalina’s tongue. She did not want to be around people she didn’t know, had too much work to think about socializing.
On the other hand, she’d never had a real friend. In all her years Kalina could count her personal acquaintanceships with males and females—outside of work—on one hand. She did not build relationships, didn’t share any part of herself with anyone else, and had never experienced a giving of the same. Maybe it was time she opened the door just a little bit. Maybe this time would be different.
As more maybes rolled around in her head her mouth answered, “Sure. Sounds good.”
Chapter 12
He called this room The Point. It was where he housed his shipments and distributed them to the dealers who would go out and make him and his growing establishment money to live on.
As rooms went it was large: twelve-foot ceilings with beams and wiring crawling overhead like veins. There were few windows, small and clouded with dirt and located high up on the wall so anyone looking in would most likely only see the old pipes and structure of the old warehouse.
On the floor nine-foot tables were lined as if a school of kids were expected for lunch, except there were no
