Laurel sipped her drink. “I’m surprised you’d trust Rachel again after she used the tragedy of that drowned child and your breakdown to further her career.”

The statement felt like a punch to the balls. “I don’t trust her, but I will use her to get information.”

Laurel looked up, her unusual eyes veiled. “Then how did she gain the information for her podcast?”

“I had to give her something,” he said, his temper stirring. “Is this a thing? I mean, you’re jealous of my ex?” Even as he said the words, he knew he was making a colossal mistake, but anger still ticked through him.

Laurel blinked. “Jealous? No. But I think you’re showing a lack of judgment to give a hungry reporter anything, and maybe your emotions overruled your mind.”

Irritation blew right to anger. “Enough. I don’t need your opinion on either my personal or my professional life. Let’s stick with the case.”

“Very well.” Laurel flipped open a file folder next to her to reveal the police reports filed by Charlene Rox. “So Dr. Rox reported several hang-ups from untraceable phones. Threats were written in the snow on her car, and she was sure somebody had broken into her house and taken a pair of panties.”

He struggled to focus on the case and not pursue the fight he felt coming. “If both Charlene and Sharon thought lingerie had been taken and somebody had broken into their homes, then he wasn’t hiding his activities.”

“No. He wanted to scare them. It’s part of the thrill for him.” She closed the file. “Dr. Ortega called and said the cause of death for Sharon Lamber was blunt force trauma, and there were signs of sexual assault but no semen. Same as Charlene Rox. Also, he lists time of death for Sharon Lamber at approximately two weeks ago, most likely Saturday or Sunday, but he can’t be certain. The fact that the body was frozen actually helped him narrow it down.”

Huck looked at the faces on the board. Ones he couldn’t save. “Sharon first and then Charlene, but we found them in opposite order. Sharon and Charlene, both doctors. Their names sound alike?”

“Yes, but if you factor in Abigail, her name sounds dissimilar.” Laurel tapped her fingers on the table in a soft pattern. “Although we should look at the case with her both factored in and out. Just so we don’t miss anything.”

Was there judgment in that tone, as if he’d missed something? He ignored the possibility and focused again. If anybody could hack their investigation, no matter how impossible it seemed, it’d be Abigail Caine. “Agreed.”

“Our warrants for the victims’ phone dumps were approved.” Nester popped into the conference room, papers in his hand. “The application for a warrant to unseal Tommy Bearing’s juvenile record was denied. Judge said we didn’t have enough probable cause.”