“You don’t have your patented resting bitch face this morning.” Winters narrowed her eyes. “Either you got a lot of sleep last night or …” She gasped. “You didn’t get any sleep at all!”
Sofia felt her cheeks go hot.
“Oh. My. God.” Winters squealed. “You got some.”
“Shhhh!” She didn’t need it announced to the entire precinct. “Pipe down.”
The other woman’s smile was as wide as the Queensboro bridge. “I’m just glad you’re finally having fun, Detective.”
The corners of her mouth curved up involuntarily. Sex with Lucas was definitely fun. And thrilling. And quite possibly, addicting. God, the man was like a caged animal who hadn’t been fed in days, and she was his first meal. She honestly thought it was just that first time, but then last night … she was glad she invited him over. They were at it the entire night, and she was almost late again this morning.
“Wooo!” Winters fanned herself with her hands. “I need a cigar just by looking at your face, Detective.”
“Shut up, Winters.” But she was grinning when she said it.
“So, who—”
“Officer,” Bushnell’s stern voice made Winters jump. “Don’t you have somewhere to be?”
“Uh, yes, sir!” Winters croaked before scampering away.
When the sergeant was well beyond hearing range, Bushnell trained his blue gaze on Sofia. “Selinofoto, we’re a bit shorthanded today. I need you to assist on a case. The lead detective is a new transfer here, but he’s a veteran. He’ll need a hand since it’s his first day with us.”
“Of course, sir.” She got up and grabbed her things.
“Detective Sharpe’s already on the scene, I had dispatch send him straight there.”
He rattled off the address to her, and she wrote it down on her pad. “I’ll head there now.”
The scene of the crime was just a ten-minute drive away in an alleyway behind a church. The yellow tape was already strung across the entrance of the alley. She flashed her badge to the uniformed officer guarding it, who immediately lifted the tape to let her through. She walked toward the man standing by a dumpster in the corner, whom she assumed was Sharpe.
“Detective Sharpe,” she called out.
The man turned to look at her. He was a few inches taller than her and had smooth skin the color of dark chocolate. He didn’t look much older, but the wrinkles in the corner of his keen eyes told her differently. “You must be Detective Selinofoto.” He held out his hand. “Henry Sharpe.”
She shook it. “Some first day, huh?”
Sharpe grimaced. “It’s one for the books for sure. Want me to brief you?”
“Sure.”
He took a deep breath and jerked a thumb at the dumpster. “D.B.’s in there. Garbage men found him this morning. They only pick up every other day, which means the vic’s been in there for less than forty-eight hours.”
Sofia peeked into the dumpster and instantly regretted it. The smell alone made her want to retch, but the sight of the body turned her insides. The victim was probably male based on the clothes, but that’s all she could tell. The body was beaten and bloody beyond recognition.
A chill went down her spine. Why did this feel like déjà vu?
“Detective?” Sharpe asked. “Are you okay? It’s pretty ripe, you might want to step back.”
“I’m fine,” she snapped, then shrugged her shoulders. “From the smell in there, he’s probably been dead for more than a day.”
“Rigor’s passed for sure,” Sharpe observed. “I spoke with the parish priest. The church”—he pointed with this chin at the building behind them—“is also a homeless shelter. He think’s our vic is Alfie Fraser, one of their more recent residents.”
“How recent?”
“Five days, according to Father Joseph.” Sharpe took out his notepad. “Apparently Fraser just got out of prison.”
Just like Thomas Dixon. She supposed it was a valid observation, but also a coincidence at this point. “Tech lab guys should be here any moment,” she said. “We’ll know more when they do their examination.”
“Yeah, if he’s in the system, then fingerprints would confirm it.”
“Detective Sharpe!”
They turned toward the young police officer jogging toward them, his face red from exertion.
“Take a deep breath, son,” Sharpe said. “What is it?”
“Come with me. There’s something you should see.”
They followed the officer out of the alleyway and to the street. One of the trashcans on the sidewalk had its top removed. Sharpe peered inside and frowned, then took out gloves from his pocket. Sofia did the same and watched as the other detective picked out something white from the bottom of the can. It was a shirt covered in blood.
Sharpe gestured to Sofia, and she took the other end of the shirt to spread it out. Another chill ran through her.
“Looks expensive,” he said. “Tailored maybe. I think that label is from a shop in London.”
Sofia swallowed hard as she recognized the label. She’d seen it twice before. No. Her stomach twisted into tight knots.
“If the blood is the vic’s then this has to be the murderer’s shirt,” the officer said.
“Good observation, Officer,” Sharpe began. “But, let’s wait until we have all the evidence to make that assumption.”
The tension in her body eased somewhat, but her heart now pounded in her chest like a jackhammer. Her mind was spinning with all the possibilities and explanations.
“Are you okay, Detective Selinofoto?” Sharpe’s gaze narrowed at her. “You’re looking pale.”
She wanted to throw up. She wanted to let go of this shirt and never see it again. “I’m fine. Let’s get this bagged and sent to the lab.” She wanted to know right away. Because if she was right, then Lucas might be in big trouble.
Sofia and Sharpe waited for the coroner to come and take the body away before they went back to the precinct. He headed straight to the captain’s office, and she went to her desk, and quickly booted up her computer. She had to know now.
Clicking on her old case files, she opened the one from Lucas’s kidnapping. As she went down the list of the kidnappers,
