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Chapters (45)
  1. Also by
  2. Title Page
  3. Copyright Page
  4. Dedication
  5. Acknowledgments
  6. Prologue
  7. Chapter One
  8. Chapter Two
  9. Chapter Three
  10. Chapter Four
  11. Chapter Five
  12. Chapter Six
  13. Chapter Seven
  14. Chapter Eight
  15. Chapter Nine
  16. Chapter Ten
  17. Chapter Eleven
  18. Chapter Twelve
  19. Chapter Thirteen
  20. Chapter Fourteen
  21. Chapter Fifteen
  22. Chapter Sixteen
  23. Chapter Seventeen
  24. Chapter Eighteen
  25. Chapter Nineteen
  26. Chapter Twenty
  27. Chapter Twenty-One
  28. Chapter Twenty-Two
  29. Chapter Twenty-Three
  30. Chapter Twenty-Four
  31. Chapter Twenty-Five
  32. Chapter Twenty-Six
  33. Chapter Twenty-Seven
  34. Chapter Twenty-Eight
  35. Chapter Twenty-Nine
  36. Chapter Thirty
  37. Chapter Thirty-One
  38. Chapter Thirty-Two
  39. Chapter Thirty-Three
  40. Chapter Thirty-Four
  41. Chapter Thirty-Five
  42. Chapter Thirty-Six
  43. Chapter Thirty-Seven
  44. Chapter Thirty-Eight
  45. Teaser

“If she feels, you’re the only person in the world she probably experiences true emotion about.” He zipped up his jacket. “If she were to feel rage, aren’t you the person she’d feel it for?”

One lonely chill shivered down Laurel’s back. “Yes.”

Chapter Four

Chapter Four

Laurel called the deputy director from her phone while driving home after work. Snow fell almost lazily to dot the vehicle, as if trying to lull the world into relaxation before another winter storm hit. She kept her hands on the wheel and let the Bluetooth do its thing.

“George McCromby,” the deputy director answered, sounding distracted.

“We have a new case, sir,” Laurel said, slowing down when she saw two deer on the side of the road.

He sighed. “I’m doing well, Agent Snow. How are you doing on this fine evening?”

She frowned, keeping an eye on the closest doe in case the animal decided to dash across the road. “I’m driving in the snow. How are you doing?” Sometimes she forgot the niceties.

“It’s so very nice of you to ask,” George said. “I’m knee deep in budget negotiations right now, and my wife wants me to attend the opera.”

“I thought you didn’t enjoy the opera.” Laurel picked up her speed. Nor did he often employ sarcasm, so apparently he was experiencing stress at the moment.

A slam of a hand on a stapler echoed through the line. “Why don’t they make bigger damn staplers?”

“I think they do, sir.” She slowed to turn a corner, appreciating the lack of traffic on the country road. The only movement around her involved clumps of snow periodically falling from the boughs of pine and fir trees. Why were they talking about operas and staplers?

“Tell me about your case.”

She relaxed into talk of murders and statistics, explaining that they knew nothing. “We should have the Tempest County Medical Examiner’s report tomorrow morning, and hopefully the ME can identify the victim in some manner. Her dental records are of no value because her teeth were fractured and scattered in the snow. It’s doubtful the techs could find many of them, but Dr. Ortega is very discerning.”

“Lovely,” McCromby said. “Good job on handling jurisdiction and getting everybody on board. Maybe I should assign you permanently to lead the Pacific Northwest Violent Crimes Unit, since you have absolutely no ego about it.”

What did ego have to do with anything? “I just want to find the maniac that obliterated this woman’s face.” Laurel turned down the heat on her seat. “Have you made a decision on whether or not to sign the paperwork?”

“No. I’m awaiting reports from three other units across the country where you might be of more use, and I’m also waiting for you to make a request. Where do you want to be stationed?”