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Avery
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I spent the rest of the day cleaning. There is only so much square footage in an Extended Stay apartment, and I bleached and scrubbed it until my hands were raw. When nervous, I cleaned, ironed, and organized. Cleaning gave me an element of control over my life. Because the reality was life often has uncontrollable aspects—like Detective Evan Bradley in all his sweaty, shirtless glory.
I was running out of things to clean when Madison came out of the bedroom telling me we had another body. Although an additional victim wasn’t what anybody wanted to hear about, it gave me a purpose and something to do other than dwell on the impending night out. I went to the closet and put on one of the many outfits I had ironed the night before. I was ready in five minutes. Madison, not so much. She was lagging, and I was pretty sure I heard her throwing up in the bathroom. Twenty minutes later, we were on the way to Abell’s Wharf boat ramp. This time, I drove.
We made our way into my car—my baby—a jet-black 1967 Pontiac Firebird. The vibration of the V8 engine shook me to my very core. It was like a calm stroke of the hand down the length of my body. There was a subtle rumble at first, like kisses being brushed down my face, down my neck. Then the initial rumble would stop, right in my stomach, right above my center. It was bewitching, magnetic, and drew me into a simple moment with just the turn of the key.
Madison sat in the passenger seat looking unfazed by the amazingness that was my car. As I drove away, her face turned an awful shade of green.
“Don’t you dare throw up in my car.” I glared at her, briefly taking my eyes off the wheel.
“Jeez. No ‘How do you feel, Madison? Are you okay?’” She sighed.
“Are you okay?” Despite my concern for my car, I was more concerned about Madison. She didn’t look well.
“I’m not sure what’s wrong. And before you ask if I’m pregnant, I’m not. Scott and I are always careful.” She rolled down the window, sticking her head out slightly. Her hair came free from its bun, and her curls began to fly free.
“Well, maybe you’re pregnant.” I laughed absentmindedly as the thought escaped from my mouth. “Protection is never 100 percent.” I shrugged.
Her silence met my proclamation, and I glanced over at her.
“Um,” was all she managed to get out as her eyes darted around the car, panic stricken.
“I was joking. Relax.” I patted her leg for reassurance.
“I could be. Shit! I really could be.” She started biting her nails. “I missed my period, which isn’t that unusual for me because of my stress, but I don’t know,” she whispered faintly.
“Seriously, Madison?” My tone took on that of a mother, something I didn’t even know I possessed. I slammed on my brakes, so I didn’t miss the turn into the wharf. Then, I took a breath, steadying my own nerves. “I’m sorry. This is just a really big deal, a baby?” I sighed. “Did you take a test?” I looked at her from the corner of my eye, not wanting to take my eyes of the road ahead. I had no idea where we were going. It was pitch black. Her eyes welled up with tears.
“No. I didn’t even think I could be pregnant, but now that you said it....” Her voice drifted off again. I took another deep breath and tried to calm my own nerves. After all, I wasn’t the one who thought they were pregnant.
“Hey.” I pulled onto the dirt road. Mentally cursing and hoping the rocks didn’t kick up and dent my car, I pulled to the side of the road. I noticed the flashing lights of police cars up ahead, but instead of jumping out of the car, I turned off the engine and faced Madison.
“Look at me, Madison.” She turned to me with tears streaming down her face. “We’ll get through this crime scene then stop and grab a test before we go out tonight. I’m sure it’s just a stomach bug.” I grabbed her hand in mine and gave her a reassuring squeeze. She smiled as she wiped the tears from her face.
“Sounds like a good plan. What would I do without you?” she questioned as she pulled down the mirror and composed herself.
“Well, remember what you just said when I’m freaking out over something,” I added with a laugh.
We got out of the car, and I caught a glimpse of Detective Bradley, who was standing in front of us, staring. Actually, drooling would be a more accurate description. I thought I was going to have to help him pick his jaw up off the ground, but then he spoke.
“Is this your car?” He placed his hand on the hood, shock evident on his face.
“It is. He’s my baby. Hands off.” I slapped his hand away. “You’ll smudge the wax.” I took the sleeve of my shirt and wiped the spot he had touched.
“You just keep surprising me.” He shook his head, a sly grin forming on his face.
“I’ll never understand people and their obsession with cars.” Bradley and I both whipped our heads around and stared at Madison.
“Because you drive a Chevy. Crummy pieces of metal.” I patted my own beautifully made, sleek, orgasm-inducing beauty. I looked at my car, the black paint shining under the reflection of the moon. The Firebird was rare, and I was used to people gawking over it but something about Bradley wanting it, touching it excited me. It was enough to chip just a piece of that wall that I had strategically built up. Cars were my weakness and maybe so was Detective Bradley.
“If you can even call a Chevy metal,” Bradley added to my comment and chuckled next to me. Our eyes locked, meeting and sharing in on the joke. We stared at each other for what seemed like forever, smiling. Madison cleared her throat, and I darted my eyes away from Bradley’s.
“All right, let’s go take a look at this crime scene,” Bradley said, leading the way as we walked toward the wharf.
The crunch of the earth beneath our feet was a welcomed distraction from Bradley as we made our way closer to the water. The wharf had barely any illumination. If it weren’t for the police car lights and the moon, we would have been standing in complete darkness. Madison trudged along, her eyes seeming to constantly wander and get lost. I really hoped she wasn’t pregnant. She’d been seeing Scott for a few months now. Sure, they’d known each other since childhood, and they were engaged, but a baby in the emotional mess that Liam had left would be a tough pill to swallow. She was getting better, but she still needed time to focus on herself and to strengthen her relationship with Scott.
We made it to the end of the wharf, and Adams greeted us with a warm smile and firm handshakes.
“What do we have?” I took out some gloves and handed a pair to Madison. I knew she wasn’t feeling well, but I knew she would push whatever her own personal troubles were aside to get the job done. Catching the bad guys was our life and we did that at any cost. Our own feelings, our own needs came second. We both understood that. It was what made us such great partners.
“Caucasian. Female. Teenager. A pentagram was carved into her flesh before she was drowned.” I looked at the body as Adams described her, and I moved her dark brown hair out of her face.
“Jesus,” I murmured. “She’s so young.” I sighed as I crouched down further.
“Ah, hell,” Madison said, joining me to get a better look. “I agree with Adams.” She took her finger and pointed to the pentagram on the girl’s stomach. “Blood was still pooling to the area of the pentagram. She was still alive when it was done.” She sighed. “The wound, though, I think it’s self-inflicted.” Adams and Bradley looked perplexed.
“See here?” Madison pointed to a part of the symbol that covered the stomach. “These are shallow which indicate hesitation.” She pointed to another spot. “Now here, it looks more deliberate. More forceful. And also, straighter. These marks were done by someone with a clear idea of what they wanted.” She paused, brushing her hair out of her face. I continued looking at the girl and making notes of the other gashes and injuries that covered the victim’s body. Even in the darkness, blood was visible on the ground. Blow flies fluttered around the wound on her stomach, and I swatted at my face trying to keep them at bay.
“Jameson has escalated,” Madison announced. “And now, he’s going to need another victim for whatever ritualistic fantasy he is trying to fulfill.” She stood up from the body. “Whoa,” she said as she stumbled back. Adams, however, caught her arm before she fell.
“You need to sit down,” I said softly.
Adams brought her over to a nearby rock, and sat her down gently. Bradley and I walked over to join them.
“So, what’s the plan?” Bradley looked at Madison and me. Madison had her head between her legs and was taking deep breaths.
“Clearly we need to catch him,” she managed to say between deep breaths. “I need to take a look at his records and build a profile. What happened to him in his past will have some indication of what his next steps will be.” Her voice trailed off. “It was like that with Liam and Walsh.”
I didn’t have to see her face to know what lingered in her eyes: sadness and regret. She hadn’t been able to help Liam in the way she’d wanted. In fact, he’d been the one to help her in the end, and she’d been left to put the pieces of herself back together. If anything, I knew what that felt like. Trying to build who you were as a person in the midst of a wreckage. All you could do was hope that there were enough pieces to make you whole again.
“It’s okay, Madison,” Adams said gruffly, surprising me with his sincerity. Many guys in our line of work would have backed away awkwardly or even used Madison’s weakness as a way to prove women shouldn’t be in the field. But not Adams. She glanced up at him, and her eyes glistened against the moonlight that had finally settled in.
“I’m sorry, guys. I don’t know why I’m getting so emotional. This is so unprofessional.” She looked over at Adams, but before he could answer, she tilted her head to the side as if realizing something.
“Why are you so understanding?” Adams looked at her and it was like it was a secret only she and Adams shared, but Bradley and I were witnesses to this moment that held so much importance.
“My wife had a difficult past. Held onto so much and it was hard for her to move on. I helped her through it.” I moved closer to Madison, and I put my hand on her back. I didn’t know about Adams’s wife’s past, but his sincerity impacted even me. I could see in his eyes he knew what Madison was going through. “Until she had our daughter, Hana, she struggled. Hana brought her back to me. It will be the same for you.” His toothy smile made Madison grin.
Madison looked up at me and twirled her engagement ring on her finger. Adams was right, and his words seemed to resonate with her. She was deep in thought, and I knew their conversation was far from over.
Giving them the privacy they needed, I stepped aside to make a quick call to the office to make sure we had all of Jameson’s records. I ended the call and turned to rejoin the group, but instead, I ran directly into Bradley’s chest.
“Oomph,” I grunted. His chest was hard, really hard, if I remember correctly. Which I did. Each ripped ab. Every muscle that protruded from his toned physique. I scowled. Moisture formed between my legs and I clenched them together. It didn’t do anything to stop the feelings. Mental side note: Take a cold shower.
I backed away from him, cutting the invisible rope that seemed to connect us. He stepped closer, and our bodies were only inches away again. I held my breath. Waiting. Anticipating. He took another step closer and instinctively, I placed a hand up, and it landed naturally on his chest. He breathed in heavily, his breath catching in his throat. I felt the rise and fall beneath my hand, and I closed my eyes, listening intently to his heart as it pounded.
“Grant.” I stumbled back at the sound of his voice and opened my eyes to stare at him. His eyes held so many questions, so much want. What the hell was he doing to me? Just a simple touch of my hand against his chest and I turned into a mush of emotions. I squared off my shoulders and stood up straighter, removing my hand and smoothing back my hair. Get a hold of yourself, Avery.
He grinned, satisfaction lingering in his eyes. The guy was some evil mastermind. It was the only explanation.
“Did you need something?” I placed my hands on my hips.
“Just checking to make sure you were okay. It’s dark out here.”
“I can take care of myself. It’s a little something called a Glock.” I patted my gun.
“Something tells me you know how to use it, too,” he muttered.
“I’m known to be very good with guns.” I smiled as I walked away, adding just a little extra sway to my hips. “The bigger, the better,” I called out as I continued to walk away.
“You’re evil,” he yelled after me, echoing my thoughts from earlier.
We wrapped up the crime scene around nine o’clock as dusk finally settled. Jameson had upped his game, but there wasn’t much else to go on. We had no idea where he’d gone, or even where he’d been able to keep his followers all this time. I asked about Lorelei’s parents’ farm, but apparently that had been sold. It seemed we were at the mercy of Jameson and hoping he’d make a mistake. I hated that. He wasn’t the type to be violent. Something had changed. I just wasn’t sure what, and that put our case in the hands of our killer. Something none of us were comfortable with. We needed to get ahead of Jameson, and make it so he was running from us, and not the other way around.
I needed a moment to collect my thoughts. This case and the emotional turmoil of discovering the death of someone so young threatened to wear me down. I took a second to look at the water. The natural stillness of the lake brought me peace from my thoughts. There were no boats or people splashing. No sounds. No ripples. The moon glistened off the surface of that stillness, and I also noticed the perfect reflection of the stars that covered the sky. I loved the south, the vastness of the area and the nature. The south’s open land, free of the typical suburban sprawl in the north, made me feel free.
Madison handled the press again. They’d finally caught wind of the heinous crimes that up until now seemed to have had no pattern to them. But looking at the violence and the pentagram that seemed to be present at every scene, it was a clear MO. They were calling Jameson the “Satanic Killer.” At hearing such a name, Madison became irate with one of the reporters, going off on a tangent about psychological disorders. “He needs help, and we need to stop these crimes so no more innocent people are killed,” she said. She handled herself pretty well. She was coming into her own with this job, and was good at what she did. Finally, Madison stomped back over, her eyes wide with rage.
“Those goddamn bottom-feeding reporters. Anything for a good story.” She pulled out her cell phone. “Are we ready to go? It’s 9:10. We can still run home and change before meeting the girls.” She sighed. “We all could use the break and sense of normalcy. Whatever that is in our line of work,” Madison mumbled.
“Yeah, we’re good to go. Adams said the ME just took the body, and forensics is just cleaning up.” I walked toward the car. “Seems they found a woman’s heel print,” I said, flipping through my notes.
“That’s weird. Maybe Lorelei is involved more than we think,” Madison commented.
“Interesting,” I said, continuing to flip through the pages. “It’s worth considering.” I slammed the notebook shut. “Plus, there weren’t any other shoe prints. Either she was really careless and Jameson hid his tracks or she did it solo.”
“Could she physically hold down a body though? Isn’t she smaller?” Madison questioned.
“She is. But I’m smaller and... well....”
Madison chuckled. “You kick ass.”
“Damn right I do!” We both laughed.
“Soooo, I heard Bradley is joining us.” Madison looked straight ahead. The corner of her lip twitched and a smile threatened to break free.
“Yes, but only because he’s persistent. I had no choice!”
She rolled her eyes playfully. “Okay, Avery.” She patted me on the shoulders.
Madison and I drove off, stopping by the drug store to get the pregnancy test and some anti-nausea meds for her. Regardless of what was happening, the medication would help settle her stomach.
When we pulled up to the hotel we were currently calling home, Garcia and Marshall were sitting on the hood of their car looking ready for a night on the town. Garcia wore a black skirt, short, about four inches above her knee. A purple sequined top covered her tanned skin. Her shoes were easily five inches, and I was afraid she’d break an ankle once she started drinking.
Marshall wore skin-tight leggings, with a pale pink halter top. Her shoes weren’t as tall; she was tall enough as it was. But the shoes were sparkly. So sparkly I felt the need to cover my eyes when I looked at her. These girls were crazy, but I loved them. They squealed when they saw us, and we all embraced each other in a hug. We chatted eagerly as we made the way to our room. I opened the door and watched them all pile in. My heart swelled at the sight of Madison, Marshall and Garcia together again. Although we weren’t working far from each other, we were no longer at the academy, and I missed seeing them every day.
“Make yourselves at home. Madison and I will just take a minute.” Both Garcia and Marshall sat down on the single sleeper couch that was in the living room, but Marshall was the first to grab the TV remote and start flipping through the channels. I headed into our room and changed quickly into the outfit Garcia brought me. It was subtle, yet sexy. I appreciated her not giving me some skirt that let my vagina blow in the breeze. I had on tight jeans and a tube top, both jet black like the color of my Firebird. Pairing the outfit with big hoop silver earrings and letting my hair down to cascade naturally around my face made me look more like a normal woman heading out for the night than an agent. I didn’t bother with makeup. I just added a pink shimmer to my lips. Looking at myself in the mirror, my hair looked even wilder against the black of the outfit I was wearing.
My cell phone chirped. I glanced at the screen.
Scott: Where’s Madison? I’m here in town to consult on the case. I want to surprise her.
Me: We’re changing to go to the Down Under Pub. Meet us there in 30.
Scott: Roger.
This was perfect. Madison would feel better with Scott here.
“Who was that?” Madison asked, towel drying her curls from the shower.
“Just the secretary about the files. They’ll be waiting for us tomorrow,” I lied. What’s a little white lie among friends?
“Did you take the test?” I put on my black two-inch high platforms. Only two inches because platforms were far easier to walk in. And I intended to have quite a few drinks this evening.
“It’s on the counter. I can’t look.” She pulled on her lacey red underwear and matching red bra. I smiled knowing Scott would probably love taking the ensemble off.
“What are you wearing tonight?” I asked nonchalantly as I crammed my stuff into my clutch. By stuff, I meant my weapon, my lip gloss, and my wallet. It barely closed but it eventually reluctantly snapped shut.
“Probably this lace dress.” She pulled it out of the closet. “It’s cute but comfy. I’m feeling slightly bloated.” She patted her stomach, and I glanced down, noticing a little pouch.
“Pretty,” I said. “So, do you want me to go look at the test?” I went behind her and zipped up the dress before sitting back down on the bed.
“No. I need to be a big girl and suck it up.” She padded to the bathroom, leaving the door open. I didn’t hear anything. No gasping or screaming. See, I thought, just a little stomach bug.
She came out holding the test, a look of panic on her face. She flipped the test over and all I thought was, Oh shit. Fuck. Dammit.
When she said, “It says positive,” I pulled her in for a hug and replied the only way I could.
“It’s going to be okay.”
