But her good mood vanished when she saw Tori Hunter sitting at her desk, phone already tucked on her shoulder. The same as it was when she’d left last evening. Damn, did the woman even go home?
“Morning,” she said.
“Uh-huh.” Tori glanced up briefly, then away. “It’s Hunter. I want to go over the lab reports. I’ll be down in a half-hour.” A pause. “Yes, I know what time it is. Do you?” She hung up. “Idiots.”
“Well, off to another fine start,” Samantha murmured. She pulled out her chair and sat looking at her new partner, wondering what was on the agenda today. The lab reports, obviously. She’d left after five and they hadn’t received them yet. Apparently, Tori had gotten her hands on them somehow.
“Seems our girl was busy before she died. Four different semen types,” Tori said.
“When did you get the report?”
“Last night,” she said absently. “You want to come or do you want to stay here and settle in?”
Samantha waited until Tori Hunter looked up.
“Are you always this difficult to work with?”
“Yes.”
“No wonder Kaplan jumped. He was probably wishing it was four stories instead of two.”
“Very funny. Are you coming?”
“Yes, Hunter, I’m coming. Christ, did you even go home?”
“No.”
“Did you sleep?”
Tori turned and faced Samantha.
“Whether I slept or not and where is none of your business.” She turned and left without another word.
“Lovely. I’ve landed in hell.”
The trip to the lab was made in silence and Samantha kept her hands locked together in her lap, staring straight ahead as they crept along in traffic.
Couldn’t wait a half-hour and let the traffic die, no. Had to leave right then. Had to have us stuck together in this god-damn car.
“So, do your friends call you Sam?”
“Excuse me?” It was the first words they had spoken since they left the squad room.
“Sam? Do they call you that?”
“Not if they expect me to answer them,” Samantha said.
Tori nodded. “Sam it is, then.”
“No. I detest that name.”
“Sorry. Samantha is just too… formal.”
“Formal? It’s my name.”
“I like Sam better,” Tori said.
“Well, I don’t. I forbid you to call me Sam.”
“Forbid?” Tori laughed. “You’re not serious, are you?”
I hate her.
It seemed like hours later before they walked into the lab. Samantha noticed that no one greeted them. In fact, they avoided them.
Great. I’m partnered with a psycho whom no one can stand.
She thought it amazing that Hunter got any cooperation at all in the department.
“Jackson. Good morning,” Tori said, walking up to an older man and touching hands with him briefly. “This is Sam Kennedy, my new partner,” she said, motioning to Samantha.
“It’s Samantha,” she said through clenched teeth as she shook the doctor’s hand.
“Nice to meet you, Detective. I’m Arthur Jackson.” He took a stick of gum from his lab coat and folded it into thirds before sticking it in his mouth. “My staff tells me you’ve been badgering them, Hunter. What’s the problem?”
“No problem. Just six hours late on lab reports,” she said. “I got impatient.”
He laughed. “You get impatient when we’re an hour late. I can’t imagine your attitude after six.” He walked down the hall and they followed. “Your Jane Doe was a popular gal, Detective. I’m guessing she’s sixteen, maybe seventeen. Hard to tell. Life on the street ages you quickly.”
“Her street name was Lorraine,” Tori said. “She’s fairly new on the streets, they tell me.”
Samantha stared, wondering how in the world Tori had gotten this information. And why the hell hadn’t she told her.
“I’m going to guess she’s from New Orleans,” Dr. Jackson said. “She has a tattoo on her right arm. Mardi Gras type of thing. We traced it. Some sort of gang symbol down there. Sara’s running a report for you.”
“Thanks. Now, what about the semen?”
Dr. Jackson held the door open to his office and they preceded him, each taking a seat in front of his desk.
“Four types. You’d think they’d be smart enough to use condoms.” He flipped open a file on his desk. “Two were from semen in the rectum. The only sign of violence was strangulation. No recent bruises. There were two old fractures. Wrist and tibia. That’s it.”
“You run the semen through? No DNA matches?”
“None.”
“Drugs?”
“Clean.”
“Not much to go on, Doc.”
“No. There’s not.”
Samantha sat and listened to their exchange, still seething because Tori apparently had been working last night while she was sleeping peacefully in her bed.
Tori’s cell phone interrupted her thoughts. She watched as Tori pulled it off the clip on her jeans.
“Hunter.”
“Got another hooker. Dumpster over in Central.”
Samantha saw the frown, the tightening of lips.
“Great. Thanks, Fisk.” Tori looked briefly at Samantha, then folded her cell phone. “Got another body, Jackson.” She stood, then turned back. “I’m looking for a semen match.”
Samantha hurried after Tori as she nearly ran down the hallway. She hated not knowing what the hell was going on. When they were on the road again, Samantha turned to her.
“What’s up?”
“They found another body.”
“Yes. I heard. Thank you. But I want to know what’s going on,” she said.
Tori shrugged. “You know as much as I do.”
“Bullshit! How do you know her street name was Lorraine?”
“I asked.”
“You asked who?”
“Hookers.”
“Goddamn it, Hunter! I’m supposed to be your partner. Not some puppy dog that just follows you around during daylight hours and goes home. If you were going out last night, why didn’t you tell me? I could have gone with you.”
“You’d already put in nine hours, Detective. You were tired. You have a boyfriend waiting. There was no reason for you to hang around the back alleys at midnight asking about a dead hooker.”
“What the hell does that have to do with anything? If you’re working, I should be working. You could have at least asked me,” she said.
“I work at odd hours. I doubt you’d be able to keep up,” Tori said lightly.
“Try me,” Samantha challenged. “You’re not going to run me off, Hunter. So unless you shoot me or push me out of a two-story building, I’m going to be here. I
want
to be here.”
God, did I just say that?
“Why do you think I’m trying to run you off?”
Samantha stared at her. “You’ve hardly been friendly. Hell, you’ve barely been tolerable. You don’t share shit with me. You go off on your own like some cowboy. Do you even know what the word partner means?”
“Look, this is my case. I’ve been on my own for two months since Kaplan… fell.” She nearly laughed. She could still picture him dangling from the railing, yelling for her to wait.
“Well, this is our case now and why the hell are you smiling?”
“Sorry. Thinking about Kaplan,” Tori said.
“He fell out of a two-story window. That makes you smile?”
“He was twenty pounds overweight. I told him to go down and take the stairs,” she said. “But he couldn’t let me win. Couldn’t let me catch the guy without him.”
“So he jumped?”
“Jumped? No, he tried to hang himself from the fire escape,” she said. “He was up there doing chin-ups, trying to climb back up.”
Samantha didn’t know Kaplan, but the visual she got made her smile.
“So, where are we going?”
“Central. Why don’t you call Fisk and get the address.”
Twenty minutes later, they were in the downtown warehouse district. Samantha recognized one of the uniformed men from her days at Central. Paul Stanton. He’d asked her out nearly once a week for the first year.
“Hey, Paul, how’s it going?”
“Samantha? What are you doing here? I thought you were with Assault.”
“I’m with Homicide now. Did you find her?”
“No. Someone called it in. By the time we got here, there was already a crowd. Got a woman over there that can identify her,” he said, pointing to an elderly lady talking to another officer.
“Thanks, Paul.”
Tori watched the exchange silently, noting the friendly smile Samantha gave Stanton. Well, they definitely had different methods. She nodded as Sam headed off. She went in the opposite direction, to the Dumpster.
“What do we have?” she asked as she peered inside.
“What you see is what you get, Hunter.”
Tori glanced up quickly, then took a step forward. “I see what I see. I asked what you had?” she said quietly, her piercing stare pinning him in place.
“Working girl, most likely. Teenager. Dumped last night, probably. The guy in the bookstore found her when he was taking out trash.”
“Why do you think she was dumped last night?”
He shrugged.
“Who’s here from the Medical Examiner?”
“Spencer.”
“Where is she?”
“Back in the van,” he said.
Tori walked over to the van and knocked once on the outside panel. The back door swung open and Rita Spencer stepped out. Their eyes met and there was an uncomfortable silence. There was always an uncomfortable silence, ever since the one night they’d spent together nearly a year ago. Tori shoved her hands in her pockets and waited for Rita to speak.
“Figured this was your case, Hunter. Sara said you’d been raising hell at the lab yesterday over the other one.”
Tori nodded. “How are you?”
“Great. You?”
“Wonderful,” Tori said dryly. “What you got?”
“Appears to be the same MO. The only bruising I can see is around the neck. We’ll have to wait until we open her up, of course. But I’d say you’ve got a serial.”
“Yeah. Wonderful.”
Rita motioned with her head to Samantha as she walked toward them. “Who’s your partner?”
Tori waited just a second until Samantha joined them. “Sam Kennedy. Rita Spencer,” she said.
“It’s Samantha,” she said, shaking hands with the other woman. “Same as before?”
“Most likely.”
Samantha nodded, then looked at Tori. “Mrs. Perez says her name is Crystal. Says she comes into the bakery every morning when they open. Seven,” she said in response to Tori’s raised eyebrows. “She doesn’t know where she lives. She walks north when she leaves.”
Tori nodded. They had nothing. Well, except the fact that the girl wasn’t dumped last night. Tori had seen her at one. She turned without a word and walked away.
Chapter Five
Tori drove through the city, all four windows of her Explorer down. The air was cool. Once the sun had set, the springlike temperatures had disappeared. She didn’t care. She was too damn tired. She bypassed her small apartment in South Dallas and headed to Fort Worth. She needed to rest. She’d had only a few hours’ sleep each night for the past week. Taking the Loop, she headed west, out of town, toward Eagle Mountain Lake. She hadn’t been to her boat in three weeks, since the first murder. But tonight, she needed the peace and quiet that the lake offered.
The marina was deserted by the time she got there. She punched in her code and walked through the gate, her footsteps quiet as the water rippled silently around the piers. She walked to the end, where her boat was docked, pausing to stare up at the twinkling stars before boarding. Flipping on the pier light, she slid open the glass door, leaving it cracked to let in fresh air. She grabbed a beer, drinking nearly half before heading to the tiny shower. She stood under the slow stream of hot water and closing her eyes, she tried to relax.
Later, she pulled a lawn chair out on the deck and sat, watching the stars overhead and listening as the water splashed gently against her boat. She reached for the bottle of wine that sat next to her chair and she refilled her glass, setting it back down without looking.
Two dead girls. No clues. She tipped her head back. Probably going to be more dead girls. Hell of a way for her new partner to get her feet wet.
She lifted one corner of her mouth in a smile. Samantha Kennedy. Well, she was definitely the prettiest partner she’d ever had. And after two days, Tori knew she wasn’t going to run her off. Probably just as well. She’d had a lot worse. At least the woman was willing to follow her lead and not buck her at every turn. Again she grinned. Well, it wasn’t like she’d given her a choice. She did, however, suspect that Samantha Kennedy had a temper. That could be fun.
“I’m just tired, Robert. I’m sorry,” Samantha murmured as she rolled onto her side. She just didn’t have the energy to make love. She’d barely made it through dinner.
“It’s okay, sweetheart. It’s just that we haven’t seen much of each other this week. I miss you.”
“Me, too. We’ll have the weekend, Robert.”
She felt him nod, and she closed her eyes. Sleep claimed her immediately.
Chapter Six
Tori sipped her coffee and watched as Sam made her way through the squad room. Pressed navy pants today, she noted. Matching blazer. It made her green eyes look blue.
“Exactly what time do you get to work?” Samantha asked. She tossed her purse on her desk and grabbed her coffee cup.
“Early.”
“It’s seven-thirty,” she said as she walked away.
“Earlier than that,” Tori murmured.
Samantha came back and pulled out her chair, grimacing at the taste of the coffee. She should have stopped on the way.
“Please tell me you didn’t drive around the streets again last night,” Samantha said.
“No. I was tired,” Tori said. She snatched up the phone. “It’s Hunter. Jackson in yet?” She stared at Sam, then nodded. “We’ll be over at nine.”
“They already have lab results?”
“They will.”
“Are you thinking serial?”
“Yes. This girl, Crystal, I spoke with her the night she died,” Tori said quietly.
“You what?”
“I saw her on the street. It was nearly two. I showed her our Jane Doe. She knew her as Lorraine.”
“Why are you just now sharing this?” Samantha demanded.
“What difference does it make?”
Samantha slammed her fist on her desk, causing the papers to fly around her. “We’re partners,” she said slowly. “I know you don’t know the definition of that word, Hunter. You can’t just drop information like that in casual conversation. They think she was dumped during the night. You knew all along that wasn’t true,” she accused. “I spent half the day trying to find out who she was with
before
midnight!”