Page 28

HUNTER

Slouched at the table, I stretch my leg out over the chair next to me, the ache in my thigh a dull reminder of the bandages I finally got at the hospital.

Nobody asked any questions but that comes with years working with the Northvale police and not the fact that I’ve earned their silence.

No doubt they scribbled ‘gunshot wound’ in my chart, regardless.

Fine by me. I’ve got enough on my plate without their suspicions.

Working through the documents again, the table is even more a mess of papers and photos than yesterday.

Grainy images of crime scenes and typed reports that don’t tell me enough.

My fingers flip through a folder, my eyes scanning the same lines I’ve read a dozen times.

Nothing is clicking and I’m not sure how we’re supposed to find anything new when an entire team of federal agents have been on this shit.

I frown as I flip back a page, then forward again.

Something catches my eyes, a detail I almost missed.

“Wait.” Roberts looks up from his laptop and Ruiz pauses mid-sip.

“The guy we arrested on the drug charges—he gave Hex’s name.

But none of this,” I gesture at the files, “is linked to drugs. Just murders.”

Roberts leans back, his chair creaking as the front legs rock off the floor. “So, what? A cover-up? A distraction?”

Ruiz cuts in. “Neither one made the front page,” he says. “No headlines, no big busts. I don’t see the connection, other than that guy dropping Hex’s name.”

I rub my jaw, my thumb brushing the edge of a tattoo peeking out from my collar.

“Unless Hex isn’t a man like everyone thinks.

We said it before, that it could be more than one man.

Maybe even an organization. Think about it—if they’re dipping their fingers into more than just killing, it could be a whole network.

Drugs, murders, maybe other shit we haven’t even touched. ”

The fed sitting across from me, a guy named Benji with a tie too tight for his neck, nods slowly like he’s been waiting for me to catch up. “We came to a similar conclusion,” he pushes out. “But we wanted an independent eye. Problem is, Hex leaves nothing behind. No DNA, no fingerprints, no trace.”

I lean forward, my elbows hitting the table, papers crinkling under my weight.

“How the fuck is that possible?” My voice comes out sharper than I mean it to, frustration bleeding through.

A group this clean, this invisible is unnatural.

Even the best criminals slip up eventually or leave something for us to grab onto. A hair, a print, a witness who talks.

Benji shrugs. “That’s what we’re trying to figure out. Every scene is sterile. No physical evidence, no digital footprint. Whoever—or whatever—Hex is, they know how to disappear.”

I sit back, my leg still propped on the chair, the ache in my thigh pulsing in time with my thoughts.

Roberts taps his pen against his laptop, humming as he thinks before speaking. “So, what’s the play? If Hex is a group, we’re not just looking for one guy. Could be dozens. Hundreds.”

“Start with the drug angle,” I say, flipping open another file.

“The guy we nabbed—he didn’t just drop Hex’s name for fun.

He knew something. We lean on him, see what else he’s holding back.

” My eyes scan a report, a murder case from two years ago.

Stabbing, brutal, no witnesses. But there’s a note buried in the margins—an arrest for a drug deal the same week, same neighborhood.

I flip to another file, another murder. Same deal.

A drug bust nearby, same timeframe. “Look at this,” I say, sliding the files toward Ruiz.

“Two past murders with Hex’s MO. Both had drug arrests in the area around the same time. ”

Ruiz squints at the pages, his coffee forgotten. “You’re saying there’s a pattern?”

“I’m saying it’s too clean to be a coincidence.” I lean back, threading my fingers behind my head. “I’m just going to play the devil’s advocate for a minute. What if… the murders are the loud part, but the drugs are the quiet money?”

Benji snorts from his seat, the other fed in his own world as he talks into a phone. “You’re thinking organized crime, then. Not just a lone wolf.”

“Something like that. It would make some kind of sense as to why none of the reports and eye witnesses make any sense. Someone detailed a drummer from a boyband, apparently.” I laugh at that because I managed to look up Lunar Ransom and the drummer is the prettiest boy I’ve ever seen in my entire life.

There’s no way a face like that is running rampant through the streets.

I glance over at the clock just above the door and grimace at how late it’s gotten. As much as I want to go home, though, I need to know that Carter’s not getting out tonight. We’re too close to Celeste’s heat for me to worry about him lurking around my goddamn house.

Roberts sighs and then throws his hands up to stretch, his back audibly cracking.

“It’s a signature, which means we need to pull every Hex murder out and crosscheck it with drug arrests around the same time.

Better we check for all of the arrests around the same time since we have no idea what we’re looking for. ”

Benji scribbles something down and then starts typing away on his phone. I have a feeling our expertise is being used because the agents hit a wall but I’m not about to call them on it.

I start flipping through one of the files again, grabbing one of the murders from last year to crosscheck through the database for anything else that happened in Connecticut during that time.

The door swings open and we all look up.

One of the newer officers, Lawson, stands in the doorway, a file clutched in his hand.

“I probably shouldn’t, but you guys are gonna wanna see this,” he says before tossing the file onto the table.

I grab it, my fingers brushing the edges as I flip it open. Photos spill out, grainy shots of the warehouse where we nabbed that drug dealer a few days ago. Some are from last night, just around the time of the murder.

My heart twists as I hit two photos that don’t add up.

Timestamped an hour before her death, Carter’s leading a girl inside, her dark hair tied back, the Omega dressed in something that seems out of place for that time of night.

Five minutes later, the other picture: Carter walking out, alone, no girl in sight.

“Wait,” I say, my thumb pressing into the photo until it crinkles.

“I know her. She used to work at the little bakery just outside the hospital.” I used to stop through there all the time on my way downtown.

Lila’s shy smile burns in my mind as she’d hand me my cappuccino.

I haven’t been there in a few weeks but I’d remember her anywhere.

“The victim was an Omega? None of the reports identified who she was.”

Lawson glares at the feds, his jaw clenched.

“Because someone didn’t think it mattered,” he growls out as he steps around the table and drops the other file in front of the feds.

“Problem is, the girl Carter walked in with and the girl who died are two different people. Carter’s girl was an Omega.

The one who died was a Beta. He’s in the other interrogation room, spouting lies and excuses, but it’s clear he dropped her off. ”

“He dropped her off to be killed?” That doesn’t add up either because the chief didn’t mention anything about any other murders or bodies. So, where is Lila?

Ruiz leans over, studying the same picture. He’s just as pissed off as I am. “No, we all know Hex is an opportunist. The kills don’t have a specific pattern when it comes to designation, gender, or age. It’s always random.”

Roberts clicks his tongue, drawing our attention back to him.

“What if she just got caught at the wrong time? Wrong place, wrong night?” He starts digging through the photos, lining them up in order of timing before grabbing one and holding it close to his face.

The damn guy definitely needs glasses. His brows furrow and then straighten several times before he turns the picture toward us.

It’s Carter walking out, the warehouse door wide open, several figures kneeling in the background, their shapes a little unfocused but unmistakable.

“Pretty sure some of those are other Omegas,” Roberts says, pointing at the figures.

“I recognize one. I only remember because on his application to the department he was taking criminology at Northvale.”

Ruiz's face pales beside me. “I hate to say it, but it might explain why Carter was after Celeste and it has nothing to do with you, Hunter.”

This was the last thing I expected to find in Northvale.

Murder, sure. Drugs, definitely. But a serial killer and trafficking?

Absolutely not. I push to my feet after swiping a few of the pictures and stalk toward the entrance of the room.

“Yeah, Lawson, you shouldn’t have brought that information in here because Carter’s about to be paint on the walls. ”

Ruiz groans from behind me as I make my way down the hall, other officers giving me space.

The moment I step into the back area of the interrogation room, however, the officer in charge is suddenly on alert.

I blow past him as well, yanking the door open to see Carter yelling about his innocence as the chief sits across from him.

My fist slams into Carter’s face, a solid crack echoing in the small room.

His head snaps back, blood spraying from his lip, and I pull back for another hit, ready to make him feel every last bit of anger coursing through my body.

The chief grabs me by the shoulders and drags me back before thrusting me against the wall, his arm against my chest. “Hunter, that’s not how we do things here! ” he barks in my face.

I throw my hands up in surrender, the chief backing off slightly. “Well, this piece of shit was trying to take my Omega from me,” I snarl, my eyes locked on Carter. “Tell me, was it to sell her or just to save your own ass?”

Carter spits blood onto the table, glaring at me, but his eyes betray him.

Fear flickers in those dark eyes. He’s not scared of me; he’s scared because I know.

He went after Celeste to cover his own tracks, to save his sorry hide from whatever bullshit he had gotten himself into.

My hands clench at my side, the urge to hit him again nearly overwhelming, but the chief’s hand falls to my shoulder again, holding me in place.

“Chief, disrespectfully, Carter’s nothing but scum. I used to like you, Carter. Used to think you had a lot going for you, but this? You can’t come back from this.”

The chief’s grip tightens on my shoulder, demanding that I look at him. “What are you talking about?”

I chuck the pictures onto the table and slam them onto the table, Carter very obviously walking Lila into that warehouse.

“He’s delivered a fucking Omega to the very warehouse we found the victim and where the dealer was picked up.

There were other people in there too. Omegas, definitely.

Maybe also Betas. I don’t know.” I shake the chief off of me, my hands raised again to let him know I’m not going to do anything else.

“Don’t worry about firing me or giving me leave or whatever.

I’m taking time off for my Omega’s heat.

Until then, though? We’re going to save those other people.

I don’t care what kind of force you have to get together, but I’m not having that bullshit on my conscience. ”

The chief shrugs, sitting across from me, his shoulders heavy. “We’ve only got evidence of one girl,” he says, his voice grim. “Even if that picture with the others means more, we can’t make that leap without more from Carter. It’s exactly what it looks like, but we need proof.”