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“I appreciate that, but it’s really fine,” I say. “Hazard of the job. I can’t even count how many shirts I’ve tossed after being ruined at crime scenes or chasing down idiots dumb enough to run from the cops.” I flash him a tight smile. “It’s all part of the glamor of being a homicide detective.”
I offer one last tight smile and slip past the rich asshole when a couple heads for the exit, forcing us all to shift and make room. “Coffee is calling me. Take it easy,” I tell him briskly and rush to the counter without a look back.
“You know that guy?” Jay poses the question when he catches up with me at the counter, nodding towards Mr. Moneybags.
I give him a dismissive frown over my shoulder. “That guy? No. Just a random rich guy who wanted to buy me a new blouse.” I tug at the large coffee stain down the middle of my blue blouse, cursing to myself. “He’s very pushy and pissing me off. Jeez.”
Jay’s glance flickers down to the stain. “I hope you let him. That shirt’s a goner.”
“Very funny.” I practically leap at the counter when the barista calls my name, grabbing the tallest cup of black coffee they have and taking a big, reviving gulp. “Delicious. So, I was thinking about our perp. Maybe he’s a victim of sexual abuse himself, acting out some twisted revenge fantasy.”
Jay frowns and shakes his head, the old man crease forming between his brows. “You know, Frankie, it’s okay if you want to get a private life. It won’t make you a worse cop, might make you better.”
“Seriously, Jay? You too?” Why in the hell is everyone so damn worried about my personal life lately? “You sound like Amelia, and I’ll tell you like I told her, after Nate, I’m on a fast. A man cleanse.”
“Antibiotics?” He smirks.
I roll my eyes. “Thankfully, no. Or else we’d have another murder to investigate.” The sting of Nate’s betrayal doesn’t hurt the way it did right after the brutal breakup, but men just require more effort than I’m willing to put in right now. Possibly, ever again if I’m being honest with myself.
“What was wrong with that guy? He’s good-looking enough and he’s clearly rich and interested. What else do you want?” Jay presses.
“The will or the energy to bother with men at all,” I shoot back, taking another sip of coffee. “Between the job that consumes me and this damn case, I just don’t have it in me to play games or deal with fragile egos.”
He rolls his eyes, grabbing his coffee and we head out the door. “You’re too young to be so cynical. I was on my third divorce before I reached that level.”
I bat my eyelashes dramatically. “What can I say, I’m a fast learner.”
Jay laughs as he sips his black coffee. “That’s not the flex you think it is, as the kids say.”
I stop and stare at him. “Are you seeing a younger woman now?”
He tosses the wooden coffee stirrer into the trash. “We’re not talking about me right now.”
“We could be, if there’s someone you want to talk about,” I prod. It’s rare for Jay to be so evasive.
“I don’t,” he answers quickly, that telltale flush creeping up his neck. “But you’re young. Don’t you want to get married and have kids someday?”
“In this line of work? You must be insane.” I shake my head. The very idea seems ludicrous. “Leaving a man in charge when I run off in the middle of the night to a crime scene? Being consumed with a killer over and over again? No, thanks. That’s a recipe for disaster.”
“So cynical,” he grumbles as we exit Beans & Things, both of us lost in our own thoughts as we head back to the car.
“This is just what I needed.” I sip the hot liquid and as my neurons start firing on all cylinders again and I go right back to the perp. “So, sex assault?”
Jay groans, running a hand over his weary face before taking a gulp of his own coffee. “It’s a good thought with the chopped off Johnson, but we should keep it on the possibility list until we have more intel.”
A knot forms in my stomach at the thought of another victim, another life lost. “I don’t like the idea of hoping for someone else to die.” The words leave a sour taste in my mouth. It doesn’t sit right, wishing tragedy on an innocent just to crack this case.
“That’s the thing about potential serial killers, Frankie.” Jay’s voice takes on a fatherly tone. Again, and it kind of pisses me off. “Hope or not, they will kill again. It’s what they do. It is in their nature. You have no control over it, no matter how much you wish otherwise.”
I let out a heavy sigh and nod. He’s right. Tunnel vision will only blind me further. I need to step back, look at this from every angle.
“I’m heading back to the station to do a deep dive into Ryder Beaumont and the other two victims. See if I can put them together somehow.”
“You do that.” Jay grunts as he slides into the passenger seat. “I’m going home to get ready for my date. One of us has to have a life.”
I roll my eyes and merge into traffic, my mind on the killer. What motivates him? Why does he do what he does? Does he know these victims personally or do they have something else in common I haven’t uncovered yet?
CHAPTER FIVE
