“No, but we haven’t turned her over yet.” Tate shook his head. “You need to get out of here. I’ll send you the lab report when we get one, but then I’m done. As much as I like you, I don’t want to lose my job over this, especially because this isn’t Lassiter.”

Angus stared at the victim. He shook his head. “I don’t like the coincidence.”

Tate frowned. “What coincidence?”

Nari hadn’t spoken, but she’d turned pale beneath her smooth skin. “The redhead. First a Chinese woman and now a redhead. I’m Chinese, and another member of our team is Irish with red hair. Could be a coincidence, but it could also be some psycho playing with our team, Angus. Or what used to be our team. You did get a lot of press when Lassiter died, and a new crazy bastard might want to take up where Lassiter finished.”

It was possible, but every instinct Angus had told him that Lassiter was playing with him. “If I lose my mind, he wins,” he muttered.

Tate glanced his way. “Then don’t lose your mind. I saw the closed file on Lassiter. He died, Angus.”

“I saw it, too,” Angus said grimly. “There was a picture of him in the morgue, a record of his cremation, and a note that the ashes were given to the nanny who raised him. She signed for the ashes, spread them somewhere, and then died two years later.” He’d questioned everyone that woman had known, but she’d been a recluse. “Every ‘I’ is dotted.”

Tate sighed and wiped rain off his smooth head. “We have a killer, but it’s not yours. Yours is dead. Stop letting his ghost haunt you.”

Angus nodded, his head aching. “All right. Let me know when you want to interview me.”

Tate started. “Why would I do that?”

“The coincidence, Tate. It never really is one.” Angus took Nari’s arm and turned back down the dark trail, his gut churning and his temper slowly awakening. By coming out of seclusion, and by forming a team, he’d created targets for a killer. One was the stunning woman walking silently next to him. The HDD had just given him the perfect opportunity to protect everybody. He had to disband his team and put them in his rearview mirror for good.

Now.

* * *

Most of the drive was made in silence as the heat dried their muddy clothing. Nari turned off the interstate while the dog snored from the back seat and Angus sat quietly, his head back and his eyes closed. He hadn’t spoken a word since leaving the crime scene and she couldn’t think of anything to say. It had been terrible, and her insides felt hollow. How did he live with what he’d seen over the years?