Claire rubbed at her eyes, obviously trying to stop the tears. “He almost got out a few years back. On some kind of-of technicality.” Her chin lifted. “But Sara fixed that for me. She had connections, see. She used them. They sent him back. She told me that Ethan would never hurt me again.”
“She was protecting you. Sara sounds like one incredible sister.”
“She was. I just-I wish I could’ve protected her.”
***
“What the hell is your deal, Weston?” Alex demanded. He jabbed his index finger into Trace’s chest. “You know I want to hate you.”
“Yeah,” Trace replied, “I got that clue.”
“You’re twisted. I can feel it in you. I know because—”
“Because when you look at me, you see the same darkness that stares back at you from the mirror each day?”
Alex clamped his lips together and yanked his hand back. He stomped down the hallway.
“Dammit to hell.” Alex’s growl.
Trace lifted a brow that the detective couldn’t see.
“Fine,” Alex snapped. “You can see the other two bodies, but you so much as touch them, and I’ll have you in a cage.” He threw a glare over his shoulder. “Understand me?”
“You’re welcome,” Trace told him.
More red heated Alex’s cheeks.
“And that ‘you’re welcome’—it was actually for me not going straight to the DA and demanding that your ass get yanked to traffic duty after that little stunt you pulled with the search warrant.” As if Trace had forgotten about that incident. He took his time heading down the hall. “You were right when you said I had plenty of power. Remember that the next time you feel the urge to get…overzealous with me.”
“The door…” Alex huffed out the words, “is to the damn left.”
Trace inclined his head. Then he opened the door. Inside, the temperature was a good five degrees cooler, and the room smelled of bleach.
And death.
A tall, curvy redhead appeared. She pushed her glasses higher on her nose and frowned at Trace. “Can I help you—”
“Dr. Dulane,” Alex said as he followed Trace inside, “we need to see the three stabbing victims.”
Dr. Dulane shook her head. “But I was just finishing some work on the female—”
“Sara,” Trace forced the name out. “Her name is Sara Kramer.”
Sympathy flashed over Dr. Dulane’s face. “Are you family?”
“Close,” Trace said.
Alex added, “Her family’s outside. Her sister needs to see the body. Get her…presentable, would you, doc? Face only. The woman out there needs some closure.”
Dr. Dulane pulled on a pair of latex gloves. “Seeing the dead here never gives them closure.” She inclined her head. “But I’ll do what I can.” Her gaze flashed back to Trace. “Come with me, and I’ll show you the others.”
She led them into the back.
When Trace saw Sara, he stumbled to a stop. Her body was drained of color now. Her hair spread behind her. The blood had been washed away. She looked—
Broken.
I’m so sorry, Sara. I will find him. I will make him pay for what he did.
Trace jerked his gaze off her, and he found Alex staring straight at him. “Watching my reaction?” Trace growled at him.
“Your reactions are always off, unless Skye is close. That’s the only time you ever seem even half-way normal.”
Well, when he was with her, those were the only times he felt normal, too. Alive. Instead of feeling as if he were just going through the motions. Mimicking everyone else around him.
“Her attacker drove a blade into her heart,” Dr. Dulane said. “Based on the size of her injury, I think it was the same type of blade used on the other two victims. But this time…there were defensive wounds.”
She pulled back the sheet and pointed to Sara’s wrists. “The bruising is coming through. It looks like he had to restrain her.”
Take care of my sister. “Sara had something to fight for.”
“Did she get the perp’s DNA?” Alex asked. “Tell me you found it under her fingernails.”
Dr. Dulane shook her head.
“There were no signs of forced entry at Ms. Kramer’s house,” Alex said. “And she was…dressed provocatively.”
“She was sleeping with the man who killed her.” Trace had already figured that part out himself.
“She didn’t sleep with him the day she died. There was no sperm,” Dr. Dulane said with a shake of her head. “No sign of any sexual penetration.”
So the guy hadn’t f**ked her before he killed her. Was that supposed to be some kind of mercy act?
Trace wanted to destroy the bastard.
“Show us the other bodies,” Alex directed.
Dr. Dulane headed toward a wall of vaults. She bent. Swung open one door, and pulled out a slab. A black body bag filled the space. The hiss of the zipper seemed too loud as Dr. Dulane revealed the body.
Sharpe’s body was ghost-white. His eyes were closed. His muscles tight and frozen in death.
“A two-sided blade went into his chest here,” Dr. Dulane said, tapping her gloved fingers near the wound. “The assailant knew exactly what he was doing. The attack was dead-on.”
Trace had already reviewed the report, so he knew about the type of blade used.
Tucker had always carried a two sided weapon. Always. “There were no signs of struggle?” Trace asked. There had to be something there. If the killer had left Trace’s dog tags with Parker, then some sort of message had been left with Sharpe.
Trace just had to find the message.
“None. The fact that Mr. Sharpe didn’t have time to struggle is a good thing. It meant he probably didn’t have long to suffer.”
“He would’ve wanted to fight.” Dying easily hadn’t been Ben Sharpe’s style.
“I’ll be damned. You have an idea who the killer is, don’t you?” Alex suddenly demanded.
Trace looked over his shoulder at the detective. “Not yet.”
Alex’s gaze called Trace a liar.
“Nothing else was found with the body?” Trace asked. He had to be missing something.
But then his gaze fell on Sharpe’s throat. On the wound there. “That’s wrong.”
Alex pressed closer. “Yeah, getting your throat sliced open is wrong and—”
“No, I mean the wound looks wrong.” His stare flashed to Dr. Dulane. “I need to see Parker’s body. Now.”