Grunting, he ripped open the mail, tossing the junk into the trash. He lifted the last one, a cream-colored envelope, and sliced it open. A handwritten note dropped out.

The world went silent. Electricity jolted from his head through his extremities in a dangerous rush of sparking heat.

His hand shook as he smoothed the paper to read the two words on the paper. Miss Me?

The handwriting, he knew well.

Sound rushed back in as fast as it had disappeared. Lassiter was finally making a move. Force had known that the bastard was still alive. Evil had its own presence. Okay. He’d start tracking, really hunting, the serial killer right away.

Then he turned his attention back to his too silent burner phone.

Where the hell were his men?

Chapter Forty-One

Chapter Forty-One

After a full day of working and getting nothing done, Dana smoothed her hands down her jeans, sitting at Wolfe’s desk in the bullpen of the HDD offices, with Roscoe munching on the side of her tennis shoe. She looked down. “It’s like you’re addicted.” Or maybe she’d spilled whipped cream from her latte on her shoe. Yeah, that was probably more likely.

The office was too quiet. The place seemed empty without Wolfe. He didn’t talk much, but he seemed to fill a room with his presence.

Malcolm worked quietly next to her, glancing at his phone every once in a while.

She wanted to reassure him that Wolfe was fine and would call in soon, but considering it was nearly dinnertime, and they hadn’t received any notice, the words kept choking in her throat.

The elevator protested, thunked, ground gears, and then opened.

“Ah, shit,” Mal said, leaning back in his chair.

At the sound, Angus and Raider emerged from case room two, their expressions identically irritated. Angus had been off all day, but so had everyone else.

Agents Fields and Rutherford hurried off the elevator as if afraid the doors were going to close on them, which was entirely possible.

Rutherford took the lead, his perfectly coiffed hair gleaming in the yellow fluorescent lights. Did he use mousse or some other product? Dana would love to get that kind of volume. “Why the hell aren’t any of your phones working?” Rutherford asked, looking out of place in the dingy office with his smooth, shiny gray suit and polished loafers.

Dana winced. Hadn’t anybody told the agents about the burner phones? Probably not. She kept silent, figuring Angus could handle the HDD guys.

But it was Nari who spoke first, stepping out of her tiny closet office. “We’ve been busy working on all the case files you dumped on us last week.”