his hand though his silver hair, but the breeze tosses it hopelessly about.
I shut the car door and lock it, making sure the officers see me giving the car’s roof an affectionate pat.
“Still got your shield,” another detective adds. The wind picks up and he slaps a hand over his black fedora to keep it from tumbling off. “How has the captain not booted you out yet?”
I shake my head. The silver-haired one is Rory West, and the one in the fedora is Scott Powers. Both of those guys have been on the squad since before Colburn made captain. They’re old enough to reminisce about the days when there were no women to spoil the boy’s club vibe. Colburn’s too far away to hear, or else they wouldn’t dare say shit like that.
“If you’re still looking for a partner,” Rory says, “I’ll put in for a transfer. I’ll keep Creepy Cassidy in line.”
Keeping my face a neutral mask, I turn to them. “Close your mouths, boys. You’re attracting flies.”
A couple of uniformed officers near them chuckle, but cover it with coughs when the detectives notice.
Colburn catches my attention with a wave. He picks his way over, ducking under the police tape.
Mashing down the guilt that rears up, I meet him halfway to the tape and plaster on a half smile that feels slimy and fake.
“Morgan,” Colburn greets, guiding me toward the scene.
“Captain. Media’s already here, huh?” I nod to the news van. “Lucky you.”
“Vultures,” he grumbles. “Gallagher’s chomping at the bit to get his hands on this one. He already almost got in here before the Jacksons threw him out.”
“Bodily, I hope.”
“Tyrone came close.”
I would have loved to see that, and not just because I loathe Gallagher with every fiber of my being. Tyrone is my sensei, so I’ve seen what he can do when he fights. Gallagher would have pissed himself.
“You got Tyrone and Steve on this one?” I ask.
“Yeah. There’s four bodies, so West and Powers are here to help out.”
I offer him the appropriately incredulous look. Murder is a lot more common in Chance than almost any other city, but even here, four bodies is exceedingly rare.
He shoots me a bracing look. “Three of them had their heads sliced off. One took a bullet in the chest.”
The sickened look I give him isn’t fake. Having witnessed the scene last night doesn’t make it feel any less unsettling to hear it now. I brace myself for the questions I know he has to ask.
“Yeah, this is a weird one,” he adds. “Forensics already took the bodies away a few minutes ago.”
A patrol officer lets us duck under the tape. A few steps away from the officer, Colburn lays a hand on my arm and leans in.
“Cass, the twins think the perp used a sword. They think it’s the same guy.”
Fuck, I knew this was coming.
“You guys think it’s the same killer from last year. He’s back.”
“It has to be. The psycho who did that job cut off their heads. You said he used a sword back then. I don’t have to tell you how rare decapitations are. And who the fuck uses a goddamned sword?”
I suppress a totally inappropriate smile for his reaction to Arcayos’ weapon of choice. The captain hates dealing with cases involving anything like that.
“Those perps at your parents’ house had rap sheets a mile long,” he says. “The twins have already looked into the victims here. They were part of that robbery gang Ricky Talvert was helping you take down.”
“They were criminals. Just like the other two,” I say. “You think he’s a vigilante. Taking out scumbags by cutting off their heads.”
Tightness forms in my chest at having to pretend this is all new to me.
He gives a helpless shrug. “What are the chances that two different killers are using the same MO? And I don’t like the connection to you.”
“You think he’s got his eye on me.”
The protective worry in his eyes makes my heart ache.
“I can handle myself,” I tell him.
He shakes his head. “This isn’t a macho thing. The evidence techs found eight bullets here.” He gestures over to where a cluster of evidence markers stick up from the grass. “The twins think one of the victims fired them at this guy before he sliced off their heads. They think he wears some kind of body armor.”
My silence feels deafening to my ears.
“Anyone who comes to a scene wearing shit like that is looking for a fight. This asshole’s more dangerous