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Hagen froze mid-step as he entered the conference room. Martin Lin’s replacement was already at work, already prepared, and already in Stella’s usual seat.

He managed not to curse out loud, but it was a close thing.

Special Agent Anja Farrow spotted him as soon as he walked in. Her cherry-red lips curved into a familiar smile. His heart hammered against his ribs as those chestnut eyes locked with his, the silent recognition hanging in the air between them.

What the hell was she doing here? Two thousand miles and three years separated San Francisco from Nashville, yet somehow, his brief workplace fling had materialized without warning, sitting exactly where his girlfriend would soon be.

The team didn’t have assigned seats in the meeting room, but over time, everyone had picked their spot and usually stuck to it. Stella always sat opposite him, sandwiched between Mac and Chloe. And he sat next to Ander.

But the new agent was screwing with the system.

Anja studied him as he made his way around the meeting table. He avoided her gaze. “Agent Yates. So good to see you again.”

Hagen pulled out his chair. He’d like to have returned the compliment, but it wasn’t true. To see Anja again was not great, though also not the end of the world. But to see her sitting in his girlfriend’s chair felt like a bad omen.

For a couple months, he and Anja had dated casually. She’d initiated the hook-up. He’d ended it, which she hadn’t appreciated.

If Hagen had learned anything over the last few months, and he’d learned a great deal, it was that confronting the past often came with a price. Some things were better left behind.

“Anja. You’re working here now?”

“Fresh in town and ready for the full tour.” Her thin smile displayed more mockery than amusement.

Hagen glanced at Stella. She was still getting the lowdown on Mac’s new boyfriend as she pulled up a chair next to Anja, then she and Mac introduced themselves and shook the new agent’s hand.

Slade was the last in, and he closed the door behind him. He stood at the head of the table. His gaze passed from Anja to Hagen and back again. “So you two do know each other. Thought you might. For those who don’t know…Mac, I think you weren’t here on Friday, either, this is Special Agent Anja Farrow. She’s come to us from the San Francisco office.” He turned to Hagen. “You overlapped for a while, right?”

His stomach churned. “Briefly.”

One corner of Anja’s lips rose at Hagen’s irritation. She extended her arm and lay the palm of her hand on the table. “Excited to be working with you again, Agent Yates.”

Hagen breathed in slowly. Stella watched the exchange as Anja withdrew her hand and sat back in her seat. But Stella’s face was soft, not stern, and the small crease next to her eye suggested she’d found Anja’s flirtations funny.

He relaxed. “You too, Agent Farrow.”

“Right, that’s all the introductions we need. You can get to know each other again in your own time. Let’s get to work.”

Slade stepped aside and clicked a remote control. The screen behind him displayed an image of a whitewashed brick wall in a narrow alleyway. Hagen focused on the corpse of a young man in the middle of the picture. He sat naked, propped upright against the wall. His skin was a putrid gray, his left cheek covered with a red scar that ran down his neck and over his shoulder.

Beyond a single cut on the right side of the victim’s neck, there were no other obvious injuries. There wasn’t any blood at the scene, which told him the victim was killed in a separate location and then moved there.

On the wall above the body hung a sign, partly obscured with a swoosh of black graffiti, that warned drivers that unauthorized vehicles would be towed. A wrecking company offered a number to call if one went missing.

Slade tapped the screen.

“Our victim’s been identified as Patrick Marrion, nineteen, a student at Central Tennessee State University. A couple of bar-hoppers looking to unload their bladders in Kerrick’s Alley found him three days ago, just after one on Saturday morning. The MNPD have already informed the family.”

“I don’t envy them that.” Ander ruffled his curls, as if he could erase the whole scene from his brain.

Slade murmured something Hagen didn’t quite catch, but it sounded sympathetic. “Patrick drove a black 2007 Honda Ridgeline. We’ve already put out a BOLO on the vehicle.”

Stella scrawled notes in her notebook. “How did this case end up on our desk?”

Slade pressed the slide button. The image zoomed in on Patrick Marrion’s long, pale neck.

“Because of me. And because of you and Hagen.”

“Us?” Stella looked as surprised as Hagen felt.

“I was having beers with Captain Ramirez from Metro last night. We go way back to the academy. He mentioned this case, gave me a couple details.” Slade kept his gaze on Stella as he spoke. “When he described how the body looked, I thought it sounded familiar. Given the similarities to your Claymore case, I was concerned we might have a situation crossing state lines. I pulled some strings to get it assigned to us. But I don’t want anyone getting tunnel vision. Odds are against a connection.”

“What are the similarities?” Stella dropped her pen and crossed her arms. Hagen bit back a smile. She’d come a long way from the newbie agent who raised her hand during briefings.

“Exsanguination.”

Hagen could’ve gone a whole lifetime without hearing that word again. “Almost completely drained?”

“That’s right. There was bruising around the victim’s ankles, suggesting the unsub strung him up prior to death?—”

“In order to bleed him out.” Stella finished.

If Slade was put out by the interruption, he didn’t let on. “See? You’ve definitely seen this before. There was also bruising around the wrists, suggesting the victim was bound. I was reminded of those lovely articles from your extended leave.”

“We caught the killer, though. This is probably something new.” Hagen didn’t like the idea of there being two unsubs with such a nasty modus operandi, but Maureen King wasn’t hurting anyone anymore.

Slade shrugged. “Probably. But you picked up plenty of press coverage up there. Could be a copycat.”

“Well, the cases are somewhat similar, what with the bruising around the ankles and the exsanguination. But I don’t see any of the unusual writing we found on the victims in Pennsylvania.” Hagen waved a finger in the general direction of the bare wall. “The throat’s intact, and the victims we saw didn’t have that precise cut on the neck.”

Stella jumped in. “Were there any marks or cuts on the victim’s back?”

Slade shook his head. “Forensics hasn’t provided a definitive answer yet. The problem is, the victim already has a pronounced scar on his back. Any scratches they found could be new, or they might be old scars mistaken for fresh injuries. We’ll know more when we get the M.E.’s report. Like I said, could be a copycat who didn’t quite get your unsub’s M.O. right.”

Hagen didn’t like this at all. “That seems like a pretty big part of the M.O. to miss, if it was a copycat. David Broad, the journalist who wrote all those articles, got into some extremely specific detail. They published the cuneiform markings on the backs of the victims.”

Stella leaned forward. “Are there any indications the Nashville killer has an accomplice?”

“Nothing definitive. But considering that the alley is open to the public, there’s no way to tell for certain.”

The Pennsylvania case involved an accomplice. A man Hagen had trusted. He’d worked with them during the investigation, and Hagen had believed he wanted to track down the killer in earnest.

Slade thought for a moment, then tapped the table. “We’re all going to have to keep an open mind. But it’s certainly out of the ordinary, and I want to make sure we don’t find any more victims like this one.”

“What about the civilians who found the scene?” Stacy’s gaze was fixed on the gray corpse. Hagen didn’t blame her. A bloodless body was a sight. Oddly translucent. “The cops questioned them?”

“They did and ruled them out. Security footage in the area has them staggering out of a bar and heading to the alley. They run out seconds later, one zipping up, the other calling the police. The discovery sobered them up pretty darned quick.”

When Slade paused, eyeing Stella, then Hagen, discomfort made Hagen want to squirm.

A copycat isn’t our fault. Dammit, Broad.

“Right, let’s get to work. Hagen, Ander, go to the forensic center and find out what the M.E. has to say. When you’re done there, head to the victim’s dorm. Maybe his roommate will point us in the right direction.”

Warmth swelled Hagen’s heart. Even if he couldn’t get beers with Ander, at least he’d get a chance to spend some time with his friend.

Slade turned to Stella. He wasn’t wasting time. “You and Stacy, talk to the victim’s parents and then take another look at that alley. Forensics has been over it. But I want your eyes on the place. Anja, you’re with me today. I’ll give you the tour.”

Hagen exhaled heavily and stood. Leave was over. He really was back at work.