Page 112 of Liar's Point

Brady sank into his desk chair and looked up at her. “Danielle taught at the martial arts academy, I thought.”

“She taught at both, actually. And it’s all one place. Danielle and her partner own it together. And then there’s Cassandra Miller, who works at the Banyan Tree and also happened to find the first victim dead in her car.”

Brady watched her, and she couldn’t tell whether he’d connected these dots previously or not.

“What’s your theory?” he asked.

“My theory?”

“You think these murders are linked. How? Are you saying the killer knows all these women?”

Nerves filled Nicole’s stomach as she watched the chief’s expression. He looked skeptical. Brady always looked skeptical, but right now even more so than usual.

She cleared her throat. “That’s a possibility, yes. That the killer knows all of them. Or maybe he has some connection to the studio. Or maybe he’s targeting women from there, for some reason.”

“So, a serial killer, then.”

“Well, no.” It sounded far-fetched when he said it out loud. “Technically, a serial killer is a minimum of three deaths. And I’m not saying that’s what we’re dealing with. For one thing, these aren’t sex crimes, in the traditional sense.”

“No rape,” he said.

“Right.”

His frown deepened. “You know what I always say about motive.”

“Sex, money, exposure.”

The three most likely motives for crimes—a mantra that Brady came back to again and again. And although he had decades longer than she did on the job, Nicole had also found his mantra to be true.

“So, which do you think it is here?” he asked.

Her nerves started up again. “I don’t know yet. I’m still working that out. But you can’t deny the connection.”

“Could be a coincidence.”

She wanted to argue with him, but she clamped her mouth shut.

He shook his head. “You know, my first ten years on this job we had one homicide. Guy who got drunk and went after his wife’s boyfriend with a shotgun. One murder in the first ten years.” He sighed. “Now, our population’s tripled. We’ve got a steady stream of drug traffic, shootings, sexual assaults.” He shook his head. “We’re on our second murder this year, and we’re not even out of February.”

Nicole just looked at him. He sounded... sad, almost. And nostalgic for a better time. And she didn’t know Brady did nostalgia. He’d always been so straightforward, so no-nonsense. Get out there and get shit done, no excuses.

He stood up. “Go home, Nicole. Take care of that ankle.”

“I will.”

“I want you to take some time off.”

“Sir?”

He rested his hand on her shoulder. “Take a few days. Come back Monday.”

“But... what about the Aubrey Lambert case? And Danielle Ward?”

“We’ll cover them. You need to take care of your health. You can’t take it for granted.”

Her stomach clenched. “Sir, I’m fine. Seriously. My ankle’s healing, and I’ve got work to do. Emmet needs my help with the investigation and—”

“This is Emmet’s call.”

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