negotiate some sort of agreement.”
“Lassiter is dead,” Rutherford gritted out between perfect teeth.
Angus shrugged. “Then you have nothing to lose. You do, however, have everything to gain. One year.”
There was no doubt HDD would try to get rid of him. Even so, he couldn’t give this up. He looked down at the dog. “Wanna go back to work, boy?”
Chapter 1
The swirl of red and blue lights exposed the taut crime scene tape in a back alley outside of DC. Rain blasted down, pinging off battered metal garbage bins at the rear of businesses long closed for the night. The bastard had dumped the victim near a pile of litter the rain had mangled into a sopping mess of paper and take-out cartons.
Angus kept his face stoic as he ducked under the tape and flashed his badge to the uniformed officer blocking access. It felt kind of good to show the badge, even though he worked better without it.
It would be the only good feeling of the night, without question.
HDD Special Agent Kurt Fielding was the first to reach him, skirting several numbered yellow evidence markers placed on the wet asphalt. Fielding was pale and looked even grizzlier than the first time they’d met a year before. “I heard the call go out, got the details, and figured you’d be here.” His T-shirt was wrinkled and his brown shoes scuffed. He grimaced. As an HDD handler, he wasn’t so bad. “The locals don’t want us at the scene, just so you know.”
“The FBI will take over soon enough.” Unless there was a way HDD could force itself in, which didn’t seem possible. Federal agencies rarely played well together, regardless of the party line. Force straightened, acutely aware of his men at his back. West and Wolfe had both seen some rough shit in their time, but this was something new. He needed West’s mind clear so he could run the office for now, but when he turned his head to give an order, West was already shaking his head at him, his gaze direct. No way would he be left behind.
Angus turned back around and started to focus, speaking as much to himself as to his team. “Everything is relevant. Any sign on a piece of garbage, any scratch on the building, any glint of anything shiny.”
Agent Fielding shook his head, sliding to the side and putting his body between Angus and the scene. “You’re not understanding me. This is not your case. Hell, it isn’t even our case. Never will be.” He scratched his chin. “Not that it matters. Time is up.”
Fire ripped through Angus so quickly his ears burned as if he’d been flicked with a poker. “Lassiter killed this woman, which makes it my case. Period.” He had to get to the body and make sure, but his gut never lied.
Special Agent Tom Rutherford, his blond hair mussed for the first time ever, reached them next. Fielding’s partner was usually impeccably put together, although his too-blue eyes were as pissy as ever. “You’re not supposed to be here. Neither are we.”
“I still have some sources in the FBI and was contacted immediately about the crime,” Angus muttered, his hands itching for his gun. “Now get out of my way.”
“This scene isn’t the same as the others,” Rutherford said, his eyes bloodshot.
Wolfe rocked back on massive boots, spraying water. “What do you mean?”
Rutherford slid a manicured hand into the pocket of his perfectly creased dress pants. Who dressed up for a crime scene at midnight? “I’ve studied your old case files on Henry Wayne Lassiter. His MO was unique. This crime scene is different.”
Angus swallowed. “Where’s the note?” The psychopath had always left a note.
“No note,” Fielding said as the local techs moved efficiently around.
“Look again,” Angus said evenly, his gut aching so bad he wanted to bend over and puke.
Rutherford planted a broad hand on his shoulder. His law school class ring dug into Angus’s skin through his T-shirt. “Please leave before I have you escorted away.”
Wolfe shoved Rutherford’s hand off before Angus could grab it and break a finger or two.
Angus probably owed Wolfe for that. “There are two options here. Either you get the hell out of our way so we can view the scene, or we get in a fight, beat the shit out of the two of you, and then we go and view the scene.” His voice had lowered to a hoarse threat. Once the FBI showed up, he was definitely going