Page 25 of K-9 Justice

Followed up on your statement. Partnered with Aztec PD to raid the salvage yard. Suspect has not been located. See report attached.

Halsey had always been a man of few words. Maybe that was why she’d always liked him. His significant other, Jocelyn, was the complete opposite. Always offering a baked good in hopes of getting people to open up. They were perfect for each other.

The Alpine Valley chief of police would’ve had to pull a good amount of strings to get his hands on the incident report from another jurisdiction, but she couldn’t think about how she’d repay him right now. Opening the email, she scanned the first page of the file before moving on to the crime scene photos.

Yellow tents punctured through the whitewash of spotlights directing investigators to evidence. A saw blade tipped in blood, a stain directly below a hook mounted to the ceiling in the back office. A wrench angled diagonally across the floor twisted with dark hair.

Every image resurrected the pain in her side, but she moved on, forcing herself to take it all in. To relive the hours that would haunt her nightmares for years. There had to be something. Something to tell her who Sebastian really was. Blood, sweat, hair, fingerprints, cell phone GPS. It was impossible to interact with an environment and leave nothing behind. Especially given the advancements in forensics and technology.

She made a mental note to have Alpine Valley PD look into the Sensorvault data during the duration of her and Carson’s stay inside the warehouse. If Sebastian had a cell phone on him, the largest collection of phone GPS in the world would register the number. Possibly even locate it. “Come on. Give me something I don’t know.”

“Still talking to yourself?” Carson’s voice hitched her heart rate higher. He turned on the lights, coming into the kitchen.“You know that’s considered a red flag, right? I bet your Socorro psychologist would be very interested to hear about it.”

The onslaught to her vision receded after a few moments but broke her concentration. “The FBI didn’t seem to think it was a problem, and my current boss doesn’t give a crap. She just wants results. And Socorro doesn’t employ a psychologist.”

Which felt like an oversight on her part right then. Her operatives had come close to death, each and every single one of them, and while she believed in the power of love and finding their significant others to share that burden, love wasn’t always a solution.

“The FBI didn’t know about it. And your current boss is you.” He moved into the kitchen, opening the first cabinet. Only he didn’t seem to find what he was looking for. He continued on to the next and grabbed a glass from the shelf. “Still not sure how you were able to pass the psych eval after everything you’ve experienced.”

“Compartmentalization is a superpower.” She was only half invested in this back-and-forth they’d always had together. It had become something of a habit in the course of their partnership, but her attention was almost entirely focused on getting through Aztec PD’s crime scene photos.

“And is running off no sleep a superpower?” He filled his glass with water from the fridge and took a drink. “You were stabbed less than forty-eight hours ago, Ivy. You lost a lot of blood. When are you going to give your body a chance to slow down and heal?”

“As much as I appreciate your concern, it’s actually none of your concern.” Her own words pulled her out of the flow state she’d sunk into while studying the photos, and Ivy regretted them instantly.

Carson stepped back as though he’d been sucker punched. He stared down into his glass, and she couldn’t help but wonderif he was wishing he hadn’t come out here at all. “And here I thought we were still partners who gave a crap about each other. Has that changed?”

“We are. I do. I’m sorry. I just…” Ivy tore her attention from the computer. Because this…they were important. “I didn’t mean that the way that sounded. Of course I give a crap about you.”

“And yet you’re not convinced you’re worth giving a crap about.” The accusation hit harder than it should. “Do you know why I asked to be your partner all those years ago?”

That information caught her by surprise. “I wasn’t aware you had a choice.”

“I did. Your former partners, none of them wanted to work with you anymore. They saw you as a wild card who would do anything to close a case. No matter who you had to bulldoze in the process. You were difficult to work with, too blunt, too brash, too intense. Yeah, you closed more cases than anyone in our office, but it was at the expense of being one of the team.” Carson set his water glass on the counter. “I saw an agent who needed to know she wasn’t alone. That she had someone she could rely on, someone she could trust. I’ve tried to be that person for you, Ivy, but you’re still operating as though you’re the only one who can finish this mission.”

She didn’t know what to say to that, what to think. Except the truth. “I’ve always felt better alone. Because then no one could hurt me.”

“Do you really think, after everything we’ve been through, that I would hurt you?” he asked.

“Everyone is capable of hurting the people they care about.” Ivy let her gaze drift back to the computer. And she froze. Her brain latched on to the photo within a photo on the screen. “What the hell?”

Carson penetrated into her peripheral vision, coming around to get a better look. “What is this?”

“Crime scene photos. Of the salvage yard. It’s a long story.” She pointed to the burned remnants of paperwork and photos captured by Aztec PD. “Look at this. Where is this?”

“I don’t know. I didn’t come across a room like that,” he said. “It looks like an office.”

“It’s not the room I was hung upside down in. This is someplace new.” She tried to enlarge the photo, but there was only so much her laptop could process.

“So?” Carson didn’t see what she saw. Not yet.

“So, look at this partially burned photograph. Sebastian didn’t burn the entire thing before leaving it behind.” Dread spilled into her gut. Ivy shoved away from the counter and tipped her go bag upside down. She grabbed for the burner cell stuffed deep inside and punched in one of the numbers she’d memorized in case of emergency. Like now. “I’ve seen it before.”

“What am I missing?” Agitation tensed his shoulders.

“Dr. Piel wasn’t involved withSangre por Sangrelike we originally believed.” The phone rang. Once. Twice. Three times. Voicemail kicked in.Hey, it’s Jocelyn. Leave your—Ivy hung up and dialed again. No answer. “I think she was just the first target.”

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