Sneak Peek:Outside 221 Pender, Rick Kessler flashed his I.D. at the first officer to step forward. One of San Diego’s finest took a cursory glance at the wallet and the man before lifting the yellow crime scene tape and waving him through. He pointed out a rumpled suited man standing to the left of the house talking with the FBI’s forensics team. As Kessler approached, Borkowski nodded to the group, separating from them. “No one heard or saw anything, I suppose?” Borkowski laughed, but there was no humor in it. “Do they ever? I mean, I got nothing against fags, present company included, but nobody deserves to go like this. This guy’s a real Marky de Sod.” “Marquis de Sade?” Kessler smiled at the “Jersey” coming through in his partner’s accent. “Hey, I read.” Borkowski defended himself. “Contrary to popular belief.” Kessler grimaced. Sometimes it was difficult to tell when his partner was joking and when he was being serious. This time he decided to err on the side of caution. “Yeah, tell me about it, but be careful with the fag word, okay? I don’t take offense, but some reporter could hear you. Another suspension would not be good. Your sweet wife, Millie, needs you working, man, and money’s tight, right?” Borkowski frowned and shrugged. “Yeah, sorry, when you’re right, you’re right. Millie would kill me if I got suspended again.” The older man’s mouth had been the bane of his existence. Despite being a brilliant investigator, this was one of the major reasons he didn’t move up the management ladder. He had the seniority, but not the drive. He didn’t suffer fools and he was famous for letting others know what he thought. Kessler glanced at the house. His team, already inside, would confirm this crime scene’s connection to the other four. Kessler tried to dislodge his memories of this killer’s first known crime scene. The brutality that made him lose his breakfast could still make him nauseous. He hadn’t done anything like that since he was a rookie. “So…what’s our next step?” Borkowski looked at his partner. “Let’s suit up and work the scene, then I’m on a flight to Albuquerque in…,” He checked his phone, “four hours. I think a small window of opportunity might be opening up for us to catch this bastard.” The younger agent turned his back to the gathering crowd of police mixed with a few journalists and gawkers. “If I’m right, I’ll set some bait this guy won’t be able to resist.” Borkowski raised an eyebrow, impressed with his blond, Ivy League partner. Rumor had it that Kessler was on the fast track to becoming Bureau Chief. That was one of the reasons he had agreed to partner with the younger agent. By allowing Kessler to take the lead in this serial killer case they might both get what they wanted. He understood Bureau politics. If Kessler succeeded in capturing this elusive interstate killer, he was confident Kessler would give him a cushy administrative job for his remaining years with the FBI. If the younger agent failed, Kessler would take the fall and he’d be no worse off. Prize One:Prize Two:Prize Three:TO ENTER: |