“We aren’t officially saying or thinking anything.” Kessler scrubbed his face, then glanced between the two detectives. “Two family annihilator cases in as many weeks is suspicious. Chief Diaz wants you and O’Neil to head up the investigation and report directly to Assistant Chief Pugel and himself.”
The captain’s secretary rapped on the door frame and stuck her head into the office. “Sorry for interrupting, sir, but he’s here.”
“Thanks. Tell him I’ll be with him shortly.”
Evelyn threw Ryan a guarded look. She’d never known Kessler’s assistant to interrupt him. Ever. So who the hell was important enough to do so now?
Captain Kessler stood. The detectives mimicked his movement. Evelyn glanced over her shoulder, following the captain’s gaze. A tall handsome stranger clad in a perfectly tailored black suit leaned against her desk, animatedly speaking into his cell. She couldn’t place him. But damn, he was beautiful. The stranger caught her staring, smiled and tipped his head in her direction. Evelyn’s heart jumped. What the hell? She swung her attention back to Kessler, momentarily uncomfortable with her reaction. Where did that come from?
“CSI is already on scene, but nothing was moved,” Kessler said. “Get over there, and get fresh eyes on it. Now.”
IT DIDN’T SURPRISE Ryan that they’d been put on this case. Some might question the decision, given his partner’s background—if they even knew, which most didn’t. But the chief made the right call. Evelyn’s instincts were primal. In one breath, she could transport herself into the mind of the predator, see what he saw and think how he thought. If a psychopathic serial killer had unleashed fear onto the streets of Seattle, there was no one better than Evelyn Davis to bring him down. Ryan floored the gas.
Watching Evelyn work had freaked Ryan out the first year of their partnership. Kate had chuckled at him when he’d mentioned it. She’d told him to chill out and bring his new partner by so she could meet her new friend.
One case under their belt together, and he was sold. How could he not be? She’d empathized with the grieving widow, whom the rest of the squad felt was a victim, all while asking the right questions to pull out the truth: that the woman had, in fact, murdered her husband.
He’d rolled with Evelyn’s instincts from that day forward, letting her take the lead. She still mesmerized him. She caught things before anyone else did, connected dots that had barely surfaced and her closing rate of 80 percent compared to the rest of SPD’s 50 percent continued to push her into the spotlight—which made her squirm, and him laugh. It was quite possibly the only tell that made her human, instead of a demigod.
So while he wasn’t surprised that Chief Diaz asked for them, he wondered what the hell his partner was thinking. How well had she compartmentalized the information they’d been briefed on?
Ryan knew what she’d kept guarded from everyone, what her background held. He’d made it a priority to get beneath her carefully constructed barriers when they became partners. He needed to know the woman who held his life in her hands. Fiercely private, she’d kept everyone at arm’s length. A year after she’d met Kate, and only when certain of her safety, she’d finally let her guard down. But only around him and Kate, and only so much.
After Ava was born, she’d let him and Kate in—truly in—and what Evelyn entrusted them with horrified them. She’d gone from partner to family that night.
A normal person would’ve become a statistic. But Evelyn wasn’t normal. Instead of losing herself to the grief, she focused on bringing justice to victims’ families. He’d once asked Evelyn why she’d become a cop. She’d quietly told him she wanted to give closure to families—the one thing she’d never gotten, and the one constant that drove everything she did.
He doubted she’d ever fully let them in, and that was okay. She had trusted him—trusted them—with her darkest moment. In turn, he trusted her with his life.
A question gnawed at him, despite his best attempt to eject it from his mind. He took a hard left, tires squealing. Would this case hit too close?
She’d shifted into herself as she absorbed the case file details. He’d seen it before. When she didn’t want to deal with some unseen emotion or issue, a hardness descended. Her sapphire-colored eyes darkened, her lips set into a firm line and her already impeccable posture straightened even more. Fascinating as it was to see someone change like that, he didn’t like it. He hated to see her prepare for some invisible battle, shielding herself from some unseen attack, leaving him—and anyone else, for that matter—helpless to defend her.
“You okay?” He glanced at her.
“You know I am.”
“Do I?”
RYAN’S LINE OF questioning was spot-on. Evelyn couldn’t fault him for that. She would’ve been asking the same thing if the roles were reversed. But they weren’t. She gritted her teeth, irritation ripping through her. For being caught off-guard, for allowing the emotions to seep back in where they didn’t belong, for being vulnerable.
“Yes.” She forced the word past compressed lips.
He nodded, the movement brisk. “Okay, then.”
“Okay, then.”
They pulled into the snaking driveway. Ryan whistled. The majestic colonial rose from the evergreen carpet that blanketed the ground. Perfect landscaping drew their gazes to the grand structure of the main house. Evelyn couldn’t help but imagine the family enjoying a rare, million-dollar summer evening, watching the sun dance with the edge of the lake. She shuddered. They’d never do that again.
Figures rushed back and forth, their dark silhouettes a stark contrast to the bright lights shining through the windows. A vibrant red door, etched glass panels on either side, stood slightly ajar.
Evelyn knew what awaited them. Her stomach dropped.
“You know, Kate and I toyed with the idea of moving to Mercer.” Ryan’s voice interrupted her thoughts. He put the car into Park and sighed. “Now...it’s lost its charm.”
Evelyn ignored him and got out of the car. “Shall we get this over with?”
They signed the front door log, then stepped into the mammoth foyer. Two curving stairwells mirrored each other, ascending toward the second-floor landing. A rather large and, by the looks of everything around them, expensive crystal chandelier hung suspended over their heads. Two officers huddled by a black grand piano in hushed conversation.
Evelyn walked past them without a word and entered the family room. Careful not to interfere with the CSI unit or touch anything, her eyes took in every awful detail.
In front of the large marble fireplace lay two blonde girls in their pajamas. Bound and gagged. One with a bullet hole through her forehead, and the other with her throat slashed. Evelyn walked over and looked into their faces, sadness washing over her. Even in death, they appeared sweet...innocent.
She took in the scene at her feet. Something was off. What was it? She bent down again and leaned in. “What in the world?”
The younger child’s wrists were cinched tight behind her back, causing an involuntary arch in her body. She hadn’t had any way to defend herself as the knife ripped into her neck. Strangely, the older one’s hands had been bound in front. They huddled together. The younger one slumped into her sister’s chest, her head resting at an odd angle against her big sister’s shoulder. The