I stayed low, the shadow of the parked car offering just enough cover as I watched the house. The air smelled of damp concrete, and the faint hum of city life was a constant in the background. This wasn't my first stakeout, but something about tonight felt heavier. I couldn't place it, but the unease bit me like a splinter.
Cars lined the driveway and spilled onto the street. Judging by the number of luxury vehicles, it was either a fundraiser or some elite meeting. It didn't matter. My job wasn't to infiltrate their lives; it was to find answers. One lead after another had brought me here.
The man I'd tailed to the warehouse hadn't seemed to know much, but his fear had been genuine. I pulled out the photograph again, the edges worn from handling. Wilder. He'd started it all. Whatever connected him to Nauthers and the files I'd found was tangled, but I'd unravel it. I always did. Someone had been following Ruby that day. Did they know I'd killed Wilder? Did they know what I was capable of? Or were they after Ruby for a different reason entirely?
I couldn't linger too long. The precinct would notice my absence if I didn't return soon. Asher had covered for me before, and I'd asked him to do it again. He always saw through my excuses, but he'd stopped pressing after the night he followed me to that hotel. Still, I couldn't shake the weight of his gaze, or the way he'd seemed ready to question my every move.
The dispatch call came as I was heading back. A murder in a nearby park. By the time I arrived, the scene was already buzzing with activity. The crowd's murmurs blended with the flashing lights of police cars. I ducked under the yellow tape, flashing my badge, and found Jamal and Asher waiting.
"What do we have?" I asked, keeping my tone steady.
Jamal turned to me, his face a mix of frustration and fatigue. "Where the hell were you, Khloe?"
"What happened to covering asses?" I whispered to Asher, glaring at him.
"You took too long," he whispered back. "Where did you go though?"
"I went to the pharmacy to pick up some stuff for my leg, went home, and dropped it off," I replied, brushing past his glare. "So, what's the scene?"
"I thought you said it wasn't serious" Asher's face had shifted to a concerned look.
"It isn't," I said "Can we go back to the crime scene?" I voiced out so the two would stop questioning me.
"Blunt force trauma to the head," Jamal said, gesturing toward the body. "She was attacked over there,"—he pointed to a blood-stained patch of grass—"and made it this far before collapsing."
The woman lay face down, her pale hands curled unnaturally beneath her. Something about the scene didn't sit right. "Have you turned her over?" I asked.
"Not yet," Asher replied. "Odette's getting gloves."
"Look, there are marks around her ankles." I pointed them out.
"Yes, possibly the ropes the person used on her legs or cuffs" Asher pointed out.
When Odette returned, we worked together to roll the body.
"On the count of three… one, two, three. Fuck!" We all covered our noses, the atmosphere had changed with the gnawing smell of the woman's inside opened. Her stomach had been cut open, her organs removed with a precision that suggested experience. Her left eye was missing, and her tongue had been crudely severed.
Jamal's jaw tightened. "Who the hell does something like this?"
"Not a first-timer," I murmured, studying the clean edges of the wounds. Whoever did this had a message, but I couldn't tell if it was meant for the victim or someone else. My eyes scanned the area for anything—a clue, a sign, anything to make sense of the brutality. The longer I stared, the more my unease grew.
Forensics arrived, and Jamal assigned us to check for nearby cameras.
"How's your leg?" Asher asked, his eyes scanning my limp as we made our way down the street.
I shrugged, brushing him off. "It's fine. I can walk. Nothing's wrong with it." My voice was sharp, the words more of a reflex than anything else.
"There is something wrong, Khloe," he snapped, grabbing my arm and forcing me to stop. "I'm tired of your shit."
"My shit?" I shot back, my frustration boiling over. "You're the one who started this."
"You keep pushing everyone who's trying to help you away," he bit out, his jaw clenched.
"I don't need anyone's help," I said coldly, my pace quickening as I tried to put more distance between us. "Never have. Never will."
Asher didn't let up. "Then why the hell do you always ask me to cover for you at work?"
"It's a request, not some cry for help," I replied without breaking stride. "If you don't want to do it, I'll find someone else." I paused, turning to face him. "I don't need your pity or your worry. We're partners, nothing more."
He was quiet for a moment, disappointment flickering in his eyes. Finally, he exhaled sharply and walked ahead. "Okay, then. Let's go find the criminal," he muttered, his tone thick with frustration.
I didn't respond. I couldn't afford to let any of this drama distract me. If I lowered my guard, everything could unravel. I had to keep moving forward—shouldn't let my emotions in.
We arrived at the supermarket and immediately asked for security footage. After searching through the cameras in the area—the bar, the traffic cams, nothing. It was a dead end.
Defeated, we made our way back to the precinct. Asher kept his distance, the silence between us thickening. When we walked in, Jamal was already waiting, his face as unreadable as ever.
"No leads, I'm guessing?" he asked, not looking up from his desk.
"Nothing," Asher muttered, frustration seeping into his voice. "No footage, no witnesses. We're back at square one."
Jamal finally looked up, his eyes narrowing. "Keep digging. We need something—anything. I don't care how just make sure we don't end up empty-handed."
The victim's clothes were sent for analysis, and her body was scheduled for autopsy, but without a lead, the case felt like grasping at smoke.
A meeting was called in the main room, and Lieutenant James wasted no time making his priorities clear. "I've promised Mr. Aurielle our finest officers for his fundraiser on Friday."
Jamal's expression darkened. "Sir, with all due respect, we have a killer on the loose—"
"And Mr. Aurielle is a pillar of this community," James interrupted. "You'll protect him, and that's an order."Jamal's protests were cut short by a glare from the lieutenant. I stayed silent, but inside, my thoughts churned. Protecting a billionaire wasn't how I wanted to spend my time, but it was an opportunity. Aurielle's connections might lead me closer to the truth.
After the meeting, Jamal signaled to me. Looks like he wants to talk.
"Why didn't you back me up out there? I looked like a fool" he asked.
"I just felt it wasn't necessary. We could just do this and forget we did it so we can focus on the case." I said.
"The you I know would take my side and tell him we don't have to go," he said pointing and glaring at me. He looked stressed and angry.
Was this personal to him? He left looking pissed. Normally I would be pissed off going to protect some billionaire but not his time. This time, I believe God loved me. He just gave me the perfect gift, and opportunity, to check out everything I need to know. At least he is doing it for a cause, he just doesn't know it.
Friday night arrived, and Aurielle's house was a show-off of wealth. The mansion sprawled across the land, its perfect front yard and fancy fountain screaming excess. The house, made of glass and white stone, gleamed under bright floodlights, begging for attention.
Inside, the marble floors reflected expensive chandeliers and art that probably cost more than most people's homes. The guests fit the scene—men in sharp suits, women in designer gowns, all fake smiles and loud laughter, trying too hard to seem happy. The whole place felt suffocating, a monument to people who valued money over everything else.
We divided, each of us taking a part of the floor. I volunteered upstairs, as did Asher, possibly because he wanted to keep an eye on me. But none of that is my concern—my only agenda.
Find the boy in the photo.
Somewhere in this house was the boy from the photograph. I didn't know how he fit into the puzzle, but finding him was the key to everything.