Rosie tilted her head and smiled. “I’m your big sister, silly. I could never leave you.”
Olivia blinked back the moisture that was pooling in her eyes. “I should get some sleep.”
“In a minute. Can we just watch a little first?” Rosie pointed at the paused television.
Olivia had been watching old family movies when Nate called. Clips from Olivia’s childhood that starred a vibrant and very much alive Rosie. It was something Olivia did every year on the anniversary, and as much as it hurt it also helped heal the wound that had never closed completely.
“Yes, let’s watch.” Olivia pressed play and Rosie’s laugh filled the room. It was surreal to watch her sister dancing around on the screen while sitting next to her ghost. It should’ve been enough to make Olivia check into a mental institution, but instead she closed her eyes and drifted into a deep, peaceful sleep.
CHAPTER TWO
Nate Tucker squinted up at the sky before pulling on his sunglasses. It was an unusually warm October day for Chicago and he could feel the sweat beginning to build beneath his suit jacket. Dried leaves made loud crunching noises as he strode across the park.
“You’re quiet today,” Nate’s partner said. “Are you hung over?”
“We’re here to do a job, Vince. Not gossip and talk about our feelings.” Nate tried to ignore the twisting in his stomach. He always felt out of sorts when these types of calls came in.
Vincent Monroe knew better than to keep pushing. He had been Nate’s partner for just short of three months, but was well acquainted with his mood swings. “Did you see Olivia last night?” he asked with a raised eyebrow.
“No.” Nate frowned. Vince, and just about everyone else at the station, assumed Olivia was more than a platonic friend. He had long since given up arguing with them. “She teaches a night class on Tuesdays.”
“You think this is a case for her?” Vince gestured to the area of the park surrounded by police tape and wide-eyed police officers. Olivia’s expertise in criminal psychology meant that Nate was often hitting her up for advice when he had a particularly difficult murder case.
“Only one way to find out.” Nate approached the officer that seemed the least frazzled and held out his hand.
“Detective Tucker. This is Detective Monroe. Who is the lead here?” Nate noticed that the other man’s hand was damp as they shook.
“I’m Officer Conrad. I’m not really sure who is in charge around here, but I would assume you are now, Detective.” Officer Conrad smiled weakly.
“What have we got down there?” Nate nodded to the crime scene.
Officer Conrad twitched. “It’s ugly. Pretty young thing with her head bashed in. A runner found her just off the jogging path. The first men on the scene established the perimeter.”
“You talk to the runner?” Vince was making notes on a small notepad.
“Someone did.” Officer Conrad shrugged sheepishly. “It’s a bit of a clusterfuck right now. But don’t worry, we asked him to stick around. He’s over there.”
“Thanks. We’ll take it from here, Officer.” Nate shook his hand again and then ducked under the police tape. He could feel eyes following him, but he stared straight ahead.
He stopped several yards away from the body. Normally his thoughts would be focused, carefully piecing together the clues and evidence. But once Nate’s eyes found the victim, all of his training vanished and he had only one thought in his brain- he had to find Olivia.
But he couldn’t do that just yet. He had work to do.
He snapped on gloves while circling the victim. Kneeling next to the body, he surveyed the fatal wound. The young woman had been hit in the back of the head by a blunt object. It was brutal, but it was nothing compared to the rest of her.
The body had been positioned on its back with her hands folded on her stomach. Her dark hair had been framed carefully around her face, most of it matted with blood. She was wearing a heavy layer of make-up, carefully applied.
“She didn’t die here,” Nate said, pointing out the obvious. None of her blood had soaked into the Earth. “If I had to guess, I’d say she was also sexually assaulted.”
“What makes you say that?” Vince looked doubtful.
“The styling, strategic placement… it all screams sexual fetish.”
Vince shrugged. “Maybe. Or maybe the murderer was just a neat freak.”
“We’ll wait for the coroner report.” Nate knew that he was right, but he needed more than just his hunch. He needed to talk to Olivia.
When he stepped onto the Randolph University campus four hours later, he was even more troubled. Nothing at the crime scene had given him a solid lead on who might have committed the murder. Interviewing the runner that had found the body proved equally fruitless. And the autopsy on the victim wasn’t scheduled until the next morning. The only positive turn of events was that they had been able to identify the body- Karen Collins.
Vince was back at the station compiling as much information as he could on Karen. Nate should be doing the same thing, but he had to talk to Olivia first.
The campus was packed with young kids hurrying to class or soaking up some sun in the quad. Nate noticed that several of the females were eyeing him openly, but he ignored them. It wasn’t exactly an uncommon occurrence. Nate was a good looking guy. He had gotten lucky in the genetic lottery and while he had enjoyed the easy conquests in his teens and twenties, now that he was in his thirties he found the attention more embarrassing than anything else.
Olivia’s classes were all in Randolph Hall and Nate was able to easily track down her lecture hall. The room was large, with stadium seating and nearly every seat had a young body in it. Nate smiled knowingly as he quietly slid through the door in the back of the room and settled into one of the only empty chairs on the aisle. The first three rows of the room were almost all males.
Olivia stood at the front of the class, talking animatedly with swinging arms. She looked stunning in her sophisticated black dress. Nate regularly teased her for her mature clothing choices, but he knew that she chose her wardrobe carefully. She was barely thirty years old, but looked five years younger and she was teaching a room full of twenty-somethings. If she wanted them to treat her like a professor, she had to look the part. But no matter how matronly she tried to dress, she couldn’t cover up her beauty.
As she paced the width of the room, her long, toned legs made graceful strides and her blond hair fluttered slightly. Several of the guys in the front row leaned forward as she headed in their direction, only to sigh and lean back when she turned the other way. Nate wondered if any of them were actually listening to her lecture.
“It’s important to remember, these types of murderers follow a pattern. They kill the way they do for a reason. Nothing about their crimes is random, or coincidental.” Olivia had stopped pacing and glanced at the clock. Her time was almost up. She looked back at the class and her eyes found Nate. A sparkle lit up her eyes as she smiled at him. “Midterms are due in two weeks, guys. I’d advise you to start on those soon if you haven’t already. Or at least start searching the internet for the paper you want to buy. Pickings will get slimmer if you don’t act soon.”
The class laughed at Olivia’s joke and she shuffled the papers on the podium. Nate stayed in his seat as most of the class lumbered past, several of them startled by the presence of the old guy in a suit.
A few students milled about the front of the room, asking Olivia questions and just generally basking in her presence. Nate didn’t have a lot of time to waste, so he pushed out of the lecture seat and slowly approached the front of the room.
Olivia was listening to a scrawny kid dressed in all black as he questioned her about convenience killers. He seemed very pleased with himself when Olivia nodded. “That’s a great question, Mark.”
Nate’s lips twitched up in a smile when Olivia glanced in his direction. “In fact, Detective Tucker could probably answer your question even better than myse
lf.”
“Could I?” Nate noted that the emo guy was glowering at him. “Professor Thompson is being generous. I rarely know the answer to any question, as I’m sure my college transcripts will show.”
“Mark was just asking whether it’s easier to catch a killer of convenience than other types of killers. Care to weigh in?” Olivia smirked at Nate.
“In my experience, the only killers that are easy to catch are the stupid ones.” He turned to Mark. “Feel free to quote me on that in your midterm.”
Olivia stifled a groan. “Please, refrain from listening to the Detective. He has a terrible sense of humor.”
“I wasn’t trying to be funny,” Nate protested.
“We’ll pick this up in the next class, hm?” Olivia was experienced at dismissing clingy students. They reluctantly left the room and Mark glanced over his shoulder several times on his way out.
“You have an admirer,” Nate observed. “Cute.”
“Why are you here, Nate?” Olivia was immune to Nate’s charming smile. She’d been friends with him long enough to know when something was bothering him.
“Can’t I just visit my best friend?” Nate settled into one of the seats in the front row.
“You’ve never popped in on one of my classes. You didn’t even go to class when you were actually enrolled, so I find it a little hard to believe you would stop by just for fun.” Olivia stared down at him with her unblinking blue eyes and the smile slipped from his face. He would’ve given anything to protect Olivia from what he had to say.
“I got called in on a new case today.” Nate gestured to the seat next to him. “Maybe you should sit.”
“Damn it, Nate. What is it?” Olivia’s voice cracked.
Nate leaned forward and rested his elbows on his knees. “A young girl was murdered.”
“Why are you here? Shouldn’t you be, oh I don’t know, doing your job?” Olivia crossed her arms over her chest as she glared at Nate. It was like she knew what he was about to say and she was bracing for impact.
“The girl was eighteen-years-old. Her head was bashed in and she was dumped in Randolph Park just down the road.” Nate and Olivia stared at one another. Nate saw the fear that was building in her eyes. He took a deep breath before he said, “Her hands were folded on her stomach, Olivia.”
Olivia blinked rapidly. “And?” she whispered.
“And a single rose had been placed in her hands,” Nate finished. “Just like…” he trailed off.
Olivia let out her breath in a whoosh of air. “Just like Rosie.”
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