Page 63 of The Devoted Game

All business.

No more falling victim to his rugged charm.

No more sex, no matter how amazing.

1000 Eighteenth Street, 9:20 p.m.

Everyone else was in the conference room when Grace showed up. She looked more relaxed now. She’d obviously showered and changed. Ryan was in no hurry to do the same. He liked wearing her scent.

“Let’s talk about what we have,” Worth suggested, his comment directed at Ryan.

“I’d like to hear what Aldridge has come up with on the scenes.” Ryan rested his attention on the older man. “Anything new on that?”

“Possibly.” Aldridge glanced over his handwritten notes. He was old school, no phone apps for him. “Oak Hill Cemetery,” he said, “is the final resting place of the steel magnates who put Birmingham on the map. It holds a prominent position in our city, right downtown.”

Ryan nodded. “So the cemetery represents the upper crust of Birmingham’s society.”

“Right,” Aldridge agreed.

“What about Sloss?” Worth asked.

The SAC wasn’t unaccustomed to sitting in the background. But he, along with everyone else in the Birmingham office, had been given strict orders by the director to defer to Ryan. To get this done fast.

Wasn’t he the lucky one?

“Laborers ... blue collar,” Aldridge said about Sloss. “Hundreds of men died there; to the ones in charge, they were totally expendable.”

“Katherine Jones worked at Walmart,” Grace said, the comment in line with Aldridge’s response. “Low salary base, serving the public in a manner of speaking. Just another clerk in a blue vest, easily replaced.”

“The working class, the invisible,” Ryan deduced. “No specialized training required, just hard work.”

“No connection between the vics yet,” Pratt added during the lull that followed. “The Byrnes don’t shop at the Walmart on Hackworth Road, if they even shop at discount stores at all. Not related by blood or marriage, even distantly. Don’t travel in the same circles, social or otherwise. No church or community connections. Nada.”

“Nothing from Schaffer yet,” Grace said before Ryan could even ask.

His gaze settled on her. She looked away too quickly. No surprise. She was suffering all the usual regrets about what had happened in that bathroom. Too bad. She should allow herself to enjoy moments like that one.

Lila Grimes, Worth’s assistant, rushed in and whispered something in the SAC’s ear. The visible shift in Worth’s posture cued Ryan in that this was not a call from his wife to find out when he would be home.

This was bad news.

“We have another communication,” Worth said, his gaze connecting with Ryan’s.

Ryan pushed out of his chair and moved to the large screen, where the email popped up for all to see.

Grace followed. “There isn’t supposed to be another communication today.”

She was right. This was the Lord’s Day, Devoted Fan had said. They were supposed to have a few more hours.

Ryan took a seat and opened the mailbox.

There it was, new mail.

It was him.

One click, and the message box opened.

McBride, my friend,