But only the hands of Normandy’s victim had been bound. And he’d been raped.

Whilst the bodies of the other victims had all been found naked, none had shown signs of sexual assault – though Micah conceded that kind of evidence wasn’t always obvious.

But the man – Jacob Normandy, a thirty-six-year-old construction worker from Brooklyn with a receding hairline and squinty blue eyes – had readily confessed that he’d been responsible for all seven of the slayings they’d publicly accredited to the Hooker Hunter.

“I mean, you saw the tape. Normandy was a little too happy confessing all those murders to Jensen, don’t you think?” He’d taken sick enjoyment in relaying how he’d kept his victims alive for days, tied up and gagged as he tortured them, before finally strangling them to death.

“You’ve always been good at behavioral analysis, but you know some killers just like the spotlight; they enjoy taking credit for their gross crimes.”

Micah frowned. “I guess. Though I still don’t understand why Jensen got to be the one to interview him. We’ve worked just as hard as him on this case. It’s not like he had to go out and wear a skirt in subzero temperatures.”

Yusuf Jensen had been a detective only half a decade longer than Micah, but somehow he had a foot in the door of every department of the precinct. He was charismatic, and not entirely unfortunate-looking, but Micah didn’t understand his popularity with the higher-ups. The man thought he knew everything, and that his way of looking at a case was the only way. He never listened to anyone else’s ideas, let alone Micah’s, who he tended to boss around like he thought he was some sort of secretary instead of an equal.

Although, technically, Jensen was considered a first-grade detective, while Micah, as the newest and youngest member of their department, was merely a third-grade detective.

Regardless, Micah despised him.

At least they didn’t have to work together closely that often.

Jensen always assigned himself the interesting cases. Micah, on the other hand, was often given the safe, boring ones – petty crime, mostly. He floated between property damage claims, narcotics cases, and the occasional burglary. Going undercover in a bid to lure out the Hooker Hunter was the most excitement he’d seen since officially joining the force earlier in the year.

Tessa frowned. “Is that what’s had you so grumpy the past few days?” she demanded. “Come on, Micah, you know what’s important is that-”

“-is that the perp’s been caught and will face justice for the crimes he’s committed, and the families of the victims will get some closure. Yes, I know. I would never imply otherwise.”

Even if Jensen was an asshole whose oversized ego hardly needed any more stroking. Even if it meant his brief stint working an actually interesting case was over. Even if it meant he never got to go undercover again and thus had no reason to run into-”

“Then what’s got your panties in such a twist? You’ve been frowny since yesterday when the news broke. I thought you’d be happy you didn’t have to squeeze into another skimpy outfit. I mean, it’s supposed to snow tonight and… wait.”