Page 27 of Hard Game

“Great.” I open the door, and Elijah hurries after me as I head for my car. “Does she fit any missing women profiles?” I start the engine and wait for Elijah to get in the car before I speed out of the parking lot, my jaw tight. This is unbelievable. How many women are going to die before we catch a fucking break?

“No.” Elijah jams his seatbelt in and sends me a wary look. “You’re breaking the speed limit.”

I roll my eyes and flip him my middle finger. “Fuck the speed limit.”

When we approach the mall, there’s a crowd outside, rubbernecking, no doubt. Officers keep them at bay and wave us in, and we roll to a stop beside the forensic van. At first, I don’t see anything unusual—other than an empty parking lot at the mall—but then I see her. We’re early enough on the scene that she’s uncovered, and I don’t even shut the car door behind me as I jog over. Pale, twisted legs peek beneath a sky-blue sundress, and black hair spills beneath her body, making my heart lurch.

Could it be Sara?

I close my eyes and brace myself for my sister’s lifeless eyes to be staring back at me, but it’s not possible. Sara would be in her thirties now.

Focus.

“Shit!” Elijah curses from beside me, and my eyes fly open, locking onto the dead woman’s before me.

Oh no.

“It’s her, isn’t it?” Elijah says dejectedly, pinching the bridge of his nose before he turns and kicks the fuck out of the tires of the nearest squad car.

“Hey!” One of the officers calls out until he sees Elijah’s expression.

Even I wouldn’t fuck with a pissed-off Elijah. I swallow and fight back tears of frustration and annoyance while battling my conscience. The cleaner from the mall stares back at me, now eternally silent. All the secrets she knew she’d taken to the grave, and her bravery didn’t save her in the end.

“They knew she spoke to you,” Elijah says with a snarl, pacing beside me. “How? You were in a fucking elevator!”

I stare at the cleaner wordlessly, unable to find the words I need to pacify my partner. To add insult to injury, I hear the last voice I want to hear right now.

“Lauren, Elijah.” Taron fucking Karpe.

“Not now, Taron,” I warn through gritted teeth. “Seriously, unless you have vital information, don’t fucking speak.”

Taron pauses beside me and peers at the victim, his brow furrowing. “Did you know her?”

Fire burns every cell in my body, and I struggle to hold back. I want to punch him so badly right now. “No,” I lie, refusing to give him a fucking inch.

“Ask him,” Elijah says from beside me, nudging me. “Ask him!”

I scratch my forehead so hard I wince, but Elijah is right. We need any information we can get. “Do you know who’s feeding Carmen her intel?” I ask, bracing myself for Taron’s predictable assholeiness.

Taron turns to look at me and frowns. “Why?”

Jesus Christ, he’s a dead man walking.

“Just answer the fucking question,” Elijah says with a growl, crossing his arms.

Taron’s eyes widen and he glances down at the victim once more. “Jeez, alright, calm down. Is this personal, Elijah, huh? Did you know her?”

Elijah is too fast for me, and within seconds, he’s got Taron by the throat, holding him inches away from his face. “It will be personal between us if you don’t answer the fucking question, Karpe.”

Taron’s eyes narrow, and he shoves him away, giving me time to get between them.

“Hey!” I yell, staring from one man to the other. “This is serious; there’s another dead woman at our feet!”

Taron glares at Elijah, who looks like he’s going to kill him regardless of his answer. “Yeah, so what if I do? I’m not telling you shit!”

I block Elijah by standing in front of him, staring at Taron like he’s a bug I want to squash.

“Listen, dickhead,” I say through gritted teeth. “This isn’t about being a teacher’s pet. This is about solving a fucking case. Women are dying, Taron, so how about you do your job and tell us who knows what’s going on instead of kissing Carmen’s ass?”

---