I nod and follow him out.
The drive back to my place is quiet. I’m busy processing the fact that my father has killed again, in the very state I’m living in, and Luke appears to be busy analyzing me.
When I reach for the door to get out, he finally speaks up. “Freya, you need to leave this alone. The FBI will figure it out. I know there’s more to why you’re obsessed with Maxwell, but ifyou go anywhere near this case, you won’t just get off with a slap on the wrist.”
I turn back and meet his eyes. “I’m not going to do anything, Luke.”
Luke purses his lips. Squints at me a little. “I like you. I like having you as my partner. Don’t do anything stupid.”
The corner of my lip quirks upwards but I drop my eyes before answering. “I wouldn’t dare.”
I climb the steps to my house and unlock the door. I lift my foot, careful to step over the sensor I have in place at the bottom of the doorway because I know how easy it is to pick a lock. I flick the light switch on and debate the merits of just turning it off again, so I don’t have to look at my living room.
It’s not awful, it’s just kind of empty. I got a sofa off Craig’s List when I first moved in, and I keep meaning to finish furnishing but the closest I’ve got is a flat-packed bookshelf that’s still in its packaging. Turns out interior decorating is not my strong suit and every time I try to do something about it, I get distracted by the murder board hidden behind the horrendous NSYNC poster on the back wall.
I try to do what Luke said. I honestly do. I make up some Pot Noodles in my tiny, linoleum coated kitchen but eating them just makes me feel sick. Images of Maxwell’s victims flip through my brain like a rolodex. I dump the noodles in the sink and grip the metal edges. I shouldn’t go. I really shouldn’t. But nothing about my house makes me want to stay. I grab my jacket off the hook by the door and turn my back on this place that’s supposed to feel like home.
I hurry down the steps and click the button on the remote to open the garage. The door whines as it lifts open. I duck under as soon as it’s high enough and head over to my motorbike. He’s a beauty, a Harley Davidson Sportster and yes, he’s a he because personally, I like riding men.
I hook my leg over the seat and pat the midnight black surface as it purrs to life. “All right Joey, let’s go do something stupid.”
I overheard where the body was found before we left the station and I slow Joey down as we near Quantico Municipal Park. It’s just starting to get dark, and the clouds hang above the Potomac. A warm autumnal breeze rolls over from the water, playing with my hair as I take my helmet off and stow it under the bike’s seat.
A little way down the park, blue lights flash against the grass, and I head towards the cordoned off area. I show my badge to one of the officers and hold my breath, but he barely glances at it before lifting the yellow tape for me. I shake my head. It frustrates me how many police officers don’t do their jobs properly and I want to pull him up on it but right now his carelessness is working in my favor.
I avoid looking at any of the people milling around and slip inside the white marquee, the type they erect around a body to protect it from the elements. I strike lucky and find it empty. The only other person inside isn’t breathing. I hesitate before looking down. It’s been six years since I saw one of my father’s victims and I’m not sure I’m ready to see another.
I take a deep breath. The kill must be fairly recent because there’s not much of a smell. I’m already a mess inside, I can feel a meltdown building but I’m holding myself together with clenched fists. When I finally look down at the body my grasp stutters and I stumble to my knees.
Her face is bruised, the gash on her neck a horrifying red. Her blonde hair is stained from the blood, but there’s no mistaking who she is. The woman lying dead in front of me is the spitting image of Elsie.
“Camilla.” Her name falls from my lips, and I reach a hand out, stopping short of touching the body. I know what happened to Elsie’s twin now. My father killed her.
CHAPTER SIX
Freya
I DON’T KNOW whether it’s because I’m distracted by the situation or whether he’s just that good, but I don’t notice the man approach. I jump up when he speaks, my already edgy heart racing.
“There are fourteen people here. Six Uniforms, four techs, a crime scene photographer, and three special agents, myself included. You are not on that list, so why exactly are you standing next to that body?”
“Her name’s Camilla.”
The newcomer tilts his head to the side, making his loose afro of curls bounce. “Right now, I’m more interested in your name.”
I reach into my pocket. The change is subtle, but I see him tense. The lines of his strong jaw sharpen and his eyes narrow.The tent rustles and Special Agent Park, from the lecture, walks in.
“Just getting my ID,” I say and show them my badge. “Detective Freya Danvers. We met earlier.” I nod to where Camilla lies lifeless on the grass. “This woman is my missing person case.”
Special Agent Park takes my ID. He inspects it for a moment before putting it in his back pocket and looking down at me. “Your missing person case is now the FBI’s homicide and you’re going to need to come with me, Detective Danvers.”
I push my tongue into my cheek but manage to refrain from saying anything I shouldn’t. At least with Camilla as the victim I have a valid reason for turning up here. I can tell from the glower on Agent Park’s face that I’m in enough trouble as it is.
He steps back to let me pass and I feel entirely too much like a scolded child.
“Go talk to the Uniforms. I want to know how hell she got in here,” he says to the other special agent, who I’m pretty sure is Jude Elroy. Agent Elroy is a certified genius. He has legend status for being recruited by the FBI before he even left school. I’m pretty sure he can figure it out, but I decide to save them both some time.
“The officer with the slicked back hair and gym rat muscles,” I say, and Agent Park locks his gaze on me. I tilt my chin. “The one that looks like he should be starring in a porno. He glanced at my badge and let me in.”
