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"Best to just observe, son." Walsh clapped him on the shoulder. "We are the underlings in this room."

"Noted, sir." Zay stole a slow bite of his doughnut and kept on staring.

"Jagger, this is my wife and partner, Sali." Miller gestured to the short woman. "And Agent Donovan of the Seattle FBI."

I nodded to them, lost for words beyond casual pleasantries. I didn't expect to see Detective Miller today, nor did I anticipate buckets of memories to crash down on me afterward. All the encounters I shared with her during the early years of my juvenile delinquency flooded my psyche, setting alight an anxious twist in my gut. It didn't help that my heart already raced from the caffeine I consumed that morning.

"I didn't expect to find you in my former job," said Miller, her body language shifting to block my view of the others as if she could read my discomfort. "But I'm not sad about it."

"It makes sense though, doesn't it? It's your fault I'm here to begin with." I smirked when I said it and it made her chuckle.

"It sure is." She smiled, then gestured toward the table. "Brief us on what you've got? We'll do the same."

"It's not much." I nodded once she sat down, and the attention of the others fell on her as well.

I half expected the quiet-but-deadly looking tall woman to lead the charge, or the rude little shithead, but everyone seemed to turn to Miller in that moment.

"Where are our besties?" Sali blurted out, her seedy gaze on Walsh. "Homicide. Sex crimes. They should all be here."

"S'not like you're gonna keep the information secret when you get home, now is it?" Walsh cocked a brow at her. "Quit gabbin' and let's get to it."

Sali grumbled and flipped him off.

Amusement made its way to my face, and I couldn't fight the smirk that tugged the corner of my mouth. Seeing someone flip my boss off was much more gratifying than I anticipated. Sali glanced at me when she caught me looking, then nodded her chin at me as a cocky grin parted her lips. I chuckled and shook my head, before looking back to Miller the Taller. Agent Donovan sat silently, almost creepily as she observed the room. The energy she exuded made me simultaneously want to run and punch her in the face.

"Go ahead, Roth. Spit it out," coaxed Walsh.

"Um…" I glanced around the room. "Zay and I don't have much." I looked to him then. "Can you tell them about the crime scenes?"

"Sure." Zay sat up straighter and the professionalism that he carried only in mixed company finally returned. Sometimes his playful immaturity exhausted me on a day-to-day basis but knowing he could pull it together in the end soothed some of that. "Landfills and construction sites. All of them. I've interviewed all the previous detectives and patrol officers still involved with S.P.D., as well as visited all the crime scenes while Roth focused on the forensic piece. We haven't unearthed anything that isn't already documented in the files. I have a suspicion, however, that the suspect probably works in a job that involves landfills, construction, recycling, or in a quarry. The access to the dumpsites seems easy and unlimited. That wasn't documented in the files."

"It wasn't," stated Donovan, her voice a raspy croon. "But something like that was suspected. What makes you think quarry?"

"Two of the victims had particles of gravel and granite dust on their clothes not belonging to the dump location." He opened up the file folder and cautiously slid it over to Donovan. "A new report from the forensic investigator that Roth's working with." Zay glanced in my direction, and I rolled with it.

"She's working on genealogical and DNA testing after requisitioning evidence from all the victims to be reprocessed in her lab," I added. "I'm headed back there tomorrow to meet with her for follow up."

Donovan nodded, her lips pursed to a thin line as her gaze flickered over to the Millers. One of us must've shared information that they didn't know or didn't suspect because their quiet told more than their speech ever would.

"Detective Miller, how did your agency get involved?" I asked, hoping to interrupt the silent exchange. The last thing we needed was for the FBI and a PI firm to overshoot us on this case.

"Maggie is fine," she responded, her gaze, softer than the others, fell on me. "How we got involved is why we're here. The daughter of one of the victims outreached us and we took the case. Alessa Trainor is why we're here today. She's agreed to meet with law enforcement for the first time."

"You've spoken with her?" I asked, my eyes widening as I glanced at my teammates.

"We have. She hired us. She's a spitfire who knows her stuff. On her way to being a forensic psychiatrist, and in that she's agreed to be interviewed with re-enactment. While we can't do that here today, speaking with her first officially is step one. She's never given an interview before beyond her recovery interview at age three," summed Maggie. "Which did not garner much, as we all can imagine."

"Are you going to speak with her today?" I asked, my brow furrowed as I glanced between them.

Maggie shook her head. "Not me. You."

"Me?" I looked at Zay, and his brows lifted immediately.

"Yup," Sali piped up. "We got this shit off the clock, kid. We need it back on. It's your case. It's your interview." She leaned forward, her elbows on the table. "You got new evidence." She motioned to Zay's file folder. "And a new forensic system at your disposal. You reopen the case." She jabbed her thumb in Agent Donovan's direction. "Notify the FBI that the daughter made contact, and they arrange a late-in-life recovery interview, thereby reactivating themselves, while Mags and I keep breaking the law behind the scenes and stepping on people's toes for information."

"James! For fuck's sake." Walsh grumbled.

Sali's intensity bore into me. Her deeply blue eyes spoke nothing of her age, but everything of her experience. Her passion and fire scared the shit out of me, but the tingles of inspiration niggled at the back of my neck. I drew my gaze from her to Detective Miller.