Page 19

CHAPTER 19

Frankie

I stuck my keys in the ignition and watched Soren climb into my bright red Chevy Impala, his movements smooth and graceful even though he looked slightly uncomfortable to be sitting in the passenger seat.

Getting him to ride with me wasn’t as easy as I thought it would be.

It was like when I’d tried to get him to spar with me. Soren tried to insist he could follow me in his own car, but there was nothing he could say when I reminded him this was how most partnerships worked.

I pressed the cigarette lighter and his sudden attention was like a laser, watching me with such intense curiosity I almost felt embarrassed. It popped out, revealing the lipstick I’d replaced the lighter with.

Slicking the color on my lips as I let the engine warm up was a comfortable habit. I didn’t like going out on jobs with a bare face and the lipstick always felt like a shield against those who wanted to demonize any type of femininity in alphas.

I stuck the lipstick back in its slot and then reached back for the cooler where I kept extra cans of my favorite energy drink and froze when I saw a derpy-looking shark keychain sitting on the top of my energy drinks.

This wasn’t something I’ve ever bought.

Slipping my finger through the ring, I grabbed two and offered one to Soren, but he shook his head, eyes slightly wider than normal and the color was even brighter without his glasses on.

Dropping those in the cup holders, I cracked one open and flipped on my turn signal.

The shark dangled from my finger and I couldn’t say why, but I had a feeling Leo had broken into my car again and left it here for me.

No one else other than Lucy knew about my weird obsession with sharks and she was on the other side of the world right now. The only person who could possibly see something this stupid and think of me, was Leo.

I liked the texture of it too. It was squishy, like one of those stress balls.

There was probably a tracker in here, but I didn’t really care.

It never ceased to amaze me how Leo was never bothered by anything I did. He even went so far as to leave me a dumb little present like this after I’d stabbed him.

He always made it impossible to ignore him.

I tucked the shark in my pocket and focused on Soren. “Have you finished all the required reading for new Genesis detectives?”

“Yes, I have.”

I took a sip and pulled into traffic. “Good, because the last thing we need is to give the cops another reason to talk shit about us.”

He didn’t say anything to that, but I didn’t expect him to. I just needed him to not make any stupid mistakes in an active crime scene.

“Set up the GPS and put in the location,” I instructed. “Have you been to the Melides State Park before?”

“Once.”

Good to know.

A few seconds later the GPS installed in my car announced the freeway I needed to get on. I got into the on-ramp lane and glanced at Soren out of the corner of my eye.

He was studying the cherries hanging from my rearview mirror, looking way too big for my car. Then he glanced over at me, my lips, and then down at the cigarette lighter I’d converted into a lipstick holder.

“Red is my favorite color,” I muttered, feeling self-conscious for some reason.

“Is it? I never would have guessed.”

I studied him as I waited for the light to turn green, not sure if he was messing with me or not. His tone was innocent, but I had this feeling he was teasing me even though there was no obvious reason to feel that way.

“What’s your favorite color?” It was a stupid question but I didn’t like feeling like a silly little girl and the best way to move on from it was to redirect the attention back to him.

“I don’t have a favorite color,” Soren admitted, his gaze shifting to the car next to us. “But if I have to pick, I’d probably say black.”

Made sense considering what he wore, but I didn’t think he picked it because he liked the color. I was pretty sure it was because of the utility.

One of my psychology classes had gone into favorite colors and what they generally meant and how it came off to others. It’s why I’d chosen red as my favorite color.

Red was a color someone who was outgoing and extroverted liked. It was a declaration for everyone to look – to ‘notice me.’

I wanted others to see me as bold, energetic, and confident. I wanted them to think I was a person of action – someone who’d do anything to achieve their goals. That’s who I needed them to see. Not the sensitive and loving person with a deep, nurturing side.

Pink was too feminine, too romantic and playful. They’d all see me as compassionate and empathetic. Things I never wanted them to associate me with…things I pretended didn’t exist.

But black? Black told me Soren Hart was a strong-willed, independent person who valued control. It didn’t necessarily mean he wanted power and prestige or had a need to be in charge, but I did think it indicated his desire for privacy.

Soren never tried to talk about himself if he could help it which made him seem kind of mysterious. He did answer any questions I asked him though.

Black could also mean he was open to taking calculating risks.

Considering how smart he was, I doubted he’d ever take a calculated risk that wasn’t damn near guaranteed.

I refocused on the road as I pressed my foot to the accelerator. “Can you read through the files Garcia sent me out loud while I drive?”

The look on his face when I handed him my phone was hysterical.

I shoved it in his face when he just stared at it instead of taking it. “Any day now.”

“Sorry,” he murmured, delicately taking my phone like he was afraid to accidentally crush it. “Where did he send it?”

“Should be in my text messages.”

We had about half an hour, maybe a little more, before we got to the site. I wanted to be as caught up on the case as possible before we got there.

“This is how Lucy and I usually work,” I told him as I merged into traffic on the freeway heading west. “You might end up in a different situation with another senior detective, but I always drive and she navigates. Once that’s set up, she goes over all the information we have for the case.”

Soren seemed attentive but I didn’t look over to check. He was already distracting enough and I really didn’t want to get into an accident.

“We don’t always have a crime scene to look at, but this has always helped us get on the same page and make plans for how we want to approach a case and split the work.” I dared a glance over at him and immediately refocused on the road when I found him staring at me. “It’s called a partnership for a reason. Her thoughts and opinions are just as valuable as mine.”

“Our situation is a little different,” Soren murmured, but I saw him look down at the phone out of the corner of my eye. “But I’ll do my best not to slow you down.”

Reassuring him was an impulse I couldn’t afford to give in to. I couldn’t tell him I was sure he’d do fine.

Even if I’d decided not to act like he didn’t exist, I didn’t want to give him any ideas either.

“So far, the police have come across three deaths they’re attributing to a single killer,” Soren told me.

I propped my elbow up on my car door and rested my chin in my hand as I listened to him, feeling conflicted about how nice his low, soft voice sounded. It was deep like most male alphas, but he didn’t project the same way a lot of them did.

Soren talked like we were sitting right across from each other, forehead to forehead, speaking just loudly enough I could hear him perfectly fine, but no one else would be able to hear a single word he said.

I wasn’t sure how, but he seemed to know exactly how to ensure I could hear him without adding more volume than necessary and the whole time he spoke it was like he was whispering in my ear from right behind me.

The cadence of his voice was soothing and I found the tension in my shoulders easing ever so slightly.

He sounded dependable and sure of himself. There was no emotion in his tone and nothing for me to get a read on him, but for someone like me who read into every tiny little nuance in someone’s voice…

It was incredibly relaxing to listen to without falling into the habit of over analyzing. Almost like white noise or a wordless lullaby.

“The M.O. they’re going with is death by strangulation,” he said. “The bodies are chopped up post mortem and the blood drained. They’re then placed in strategic locations. Per these notes, they don’t believe the victims were killed where they were placed, but somewhere else and then moved.”

To think we’d have a serial killer in this modern day and age.

But I was more worried that the police didn’t think they could catch him without outside help. That meant there wasn’t enough evidence and the killer had above average intelligence.

“It seems like the killer is targeting solo travelers,” Soren continued. “Their heads are the only thing the police have found so far, not their bodies. There are pictures here, but I don’t think it’s a good idea to look at them while driving.”

I smiled slightly. His approach was completely different from Lucy’s.

Lucy didn’t care about shit like gore. She knew about my issues with it in certain situations, but she’d describe every tiny detail in this monotonous voice that never failed to make my stomach turn.

She also liked to hyper-fixate on the details and would immediately look through the surrounding locations in case she could get footage, emails, pictures – anything digital that could point us in the right direction and be used as evidence.

“The locations these heads were found in are all unrelated with no obvious pattern or connection, but they’re all…displayed.” Soren glanced over at me, but I didn’t react to him or the information.

This was certainly not the worst thing I’ve ever heard or seen, but it was up there.

“If the heads are the only thing they displayed and there’s evidence of blood drainage, the killer is storing the body parts and blood or they’re dumping them,” I explained. “Either way, they’re somewhere.”

I tapped my fingers on the steering wheel as I drove, considering the options.

“Unless they burned them,” Soren suggested.

“Right, but they need access to something that’ll burn bodies then – a crematorium or a boiler. Something.” I glanced over at him, our eyes meeting. He seemed surprised and I gave him a bright smile. “There’s also the ocean and the lake just a little south of here.”

Soren didn’t seem flustered exactly but he did look down at my phone faster than he normally did. “Why do you think they asked for you?”

I tapped my fingers on the steering wheel again. I was pretty sure this was a personal question. The first one he’s asked me so far. That smile never failed to work and for whatever reason it surprised me every time when it did.

“They asked for me because I have a track record.” I ran my fingers through my hair and sighed. “What do you know about serial killers, Hart?”

“Only the obvious,” he admitted. “Stuff you hear about on crime shows and that kind of thing.”

I nodded and merged into the carpool lane. “The psychology behind a serial killer is pretty basic. They typically target strangers based on availability, vulnerability, and desirability. They’re sociopaths who derive pleasure from killing and they tend to be insecure. They kill because they’re terrified to be rejected.”

Serial killers were a popular topic in criminal psychology. They were flashy and everyone had a morbid interest in them, but as insane and egotistical as it might sound…I found them boring.

They were all entitled assholes who killed because they were sick in the head and couldn’t deal with any kind of rejection. Their motives were so incredibly basic and predictable, but profiling them wasn’t always easy.

Yes, their traits were all the same, but a lot of them were good at blending in – leaning more towards psychopathy than sociopathy.

“Anyways, that’s how they’re differentiated between one-time murderers – people who have a very specific motive. Most murderers do it for some sort of gain whereas a serial killer has this chronic overwhelming need to kill that sets them apart from everyone else.”

Soren didn’t react, but he did seem tense. I didn’t really understand why this would make him uneasy when he’d applied to Genesis to work as a detective, knowing what we did.

“For example, a lot of serial killers are male alphas who prey on betas and omegas.” I explained. “Usually ones who look like their omega parent or an omega they were rejected by. Destroying everyone who looks like that person puts them in a position of superiority and eliminates any possibility that they might get rejected, abandoned, humiliated, or hurt in some other form or fashion.”

It was a lot more complicated than that since a lot of children were abused and still didn’t turn into serial killers.

The ones that did already had an illness and as an adult they were able to act on it.

“At the end of the day, it’s about instilling fear. It’s why they display their kills or leave them somewhere they’ll definitely be found. They want the whole world terrified of them because that gives them power.”

Pointing my finger like a gun at the cherries dangling from my rearview, I pretended to shoot them. Soren glanced at me like he wasn’t sure if I was losing my mind or not, but he kept his thoughts to himself. As always.

“I’m a detective who specializes in profiling,” I reminded him. “I can narrow down the potential suspects from millions to under a hundred. It might sound like bragging, but it’s basically the only thing I’m good at.”

“You’re good with people,” Soren offered, like he was trying to comfort me.

I chuckled and shook my head. “That’s basically the same thing. I’m good with people not because I like them, but because I understand them.”

Everyone except the guy sitting in my passenger seat apparently. I didn’t understand him at all.

He was the quiet type too which meant we were like oil and water. It was extremely unlikely our interests and experiences would align.

So, why did he sign up to work as a private detective if the idea of a serial killer made him look so uncomfortable?

I flipped on the turn signal and made my way toward the exit ramp. “Genesis is an armed detective agency. Because of that, the jobs we take can be more dangerous than the usual cases a private detective would take on. It’s not all about following spouses to see if they’re cheating or looking for estranged family members. We get hired for a lot of unsavory shit people don’t want the cops to know about, so if you have issues with the darker side of humanity, this might not be the job for you.”

Of course Soren Hart was different than most. He was an ex-soldier who served in the special forces, but that wasn’t quite the same as seeing how truly awful people could be up close and personal.

“If you really want to work as a private detective, I can’t stop you. Just remember you don’t have to work in the field. You’d be extremely valuable in a support role too.” I ran my hand through my hair again, feeling self-conscious for some reason.

All this talking after days of ignoring him.

He wasn’t stupid. Soren had to be aware that I’d done it on purpose and now I was suddenly acting like nothing was wrong.

Was he going to let it go, or was he going to bring it up when I least expected it?

It’s been a long time since I’ve come across someone I couldn’t read and it had my thoughts spinning constantly.

Always questioning what he was thinking – what he was going to do or say. I could take a guess, but I honestly had no idea which choice he’d make and it made me feel like I was losing control.

Glancing over my shoulder as I merged, I used that as an excuse to study his face, but Soren was scrolling through the pictures Garcia had sent me.

I could just ask what he was thinking, but that would show interest.

“This might be my first serial killer, but it’s not my first dead body,” Soren told me. “I’m sure it will be fine.”

Well…at least one of us would be okay.