“The first two males were employees of those companies and according to the reports, were there for either meetings or conferences. I just asked that he investigate them and see if there were actual meetings or conferences.”
“You don’t believe there was?” he asks.
“There very well could have been, but I don’t believe that was their only purpose there. Both males took their very young and pretty secretaries with them for the weekend, and both had their ring fingers cut off, but the reports say nothing about any wedding rings being found at the scene or on the males.”
“So, you think whoever killed them, may have taken the wedding rings because they were cheating?”
“I don’t know. All I have right now are hunches and theories to work until they are disproven,” I tell him as I sip my coffee.
“It’s a good theory,” Heath says, getting lost in his food and thoughts.
I look over at the TV that is on a news station. They are talking about the murders on the train yesterday, and Commander Doyle is standing outside the precinct speaking with the reporters. “Practice caution and be aware of your surroundings. The investigation is still ongoing, and when we have something more definite, I will inform the public.”
I notice he did not mention us, and I appreciate that. If the killer knew we were involved with the case, they may go into hiding.
The news reporter continues saying, “Boston missing person’s division is still looking for the missing teen from Maine, Rayeanne Burton, whose last known location was the Boston train station. Anyone with information regarding her whereabouts is advised to contact Detectives at 617-333-4442.” They have her picture up on the TV.
“Detective Burton still hasn’t found his granddaughter?” Heaths asks.
“I guess not,” I say with a sigh as I continue sipping my coffee.
My heart hurts for that family, and I can only hope they find her safe and soon.
Heath and I refill our coffee cups, then go back to our rooms to gather our things before heading to the precinct. If I’m being honest, I’m hoping Detective Riley is there, but not Detective Maguire. I would much rather get the toxicology reports from her and not see him, especially after my dreams about him last night.
I have a feeling I would not be able to keep from blushing, and I don’t want this man to know that he affects me in any way.
Heath knocks on my door, pulling me from my thoughts, and I grab the files and my laptop case before opening the door to meet him.
“You got everything?” he asks, and I nod.
“Let’s go deal with the devil,” I mutter, and he chuckles.
“Today will be a better day,” he says.
“From your lips to God’s ears,” I respond, hoping he’s right.
Heath and I pull up to the precinct, and I do my best to square my shoulders, dreading going in there.
“Oh, look, it’s McHotty,” Heath says with a grin.
“Huh?” I ask before catching sight of Detective Maguire walking from the other direction.
“Well, he’s no Martin Henderson, though they kind of resemble each other some during his Grey’s Anatomy days, but he’s still hot, so I nicknamed him McHotty since his last name is Mcguire,” Heath says with excitement in his voice. “Good morning, Detective Mcguire,” Heath says, smiling brightly at the man.
The detective looks up and catches my eyes. I can feel the air leave my lungs as he looks me up and down before his eyes settle on my lips. Then as if he was shocked by something, I watch as his eyes harden, and he continues to walk to the door of the precinct.
“Oh, darn, and I thought today was going to be a better day,” Heath says. “Oh well,” he adds, and I can’t help the chuckle that leaves my lips.
McHotty, as Heath has nicknamed him, opens the door, allowing us in first, and that shocks me, but still, he says nothing as he follows behind me.
I see Detective Riley sitting at her desk, and when she looks up, she gives us a small smile before standing up.
“Good morning, Agent Robertson and Agent Morgan,” she says.
I mumble, “Good morning,” as I take her in. Her clothes hang loosely off her body, and I wonder if she has lost a lot of weight, or just unable to find clothes that fit her. She’s about an inch taller than me, and I stand at five-five. She has blond hair that is pulled up in a ponytail, and her eyes are bloodshot and puffy, which makes me wonder if she is sleeping at all.
McHotty walks past us to his desk, grabbing something before coming back over and handing me the papers.
I look at them and see it’s the toxicology report I was hoping we would get. I look over the results for the men and whisper, “They were paralyzed.”
“Huh?” Heath and Detective Riley ask.
“The males had neuromuscular blocking agents in them. Meaning they were paralyzed before they were killed,” I say, looking over the female’s toxicology reports. “But the females were not,” I say as I continue to read the reports.
“So, it could be one killer,” Heath says.
“Yes, it could be,” I respond, still looking at the reports.
“Excuse me?” McHotty, I mean, Detective Maguire asks.
“Can we sit in your conference room?” I ask Detective Riley.
“Sure,” she says, looking confused herself, but leading us to the conference room.
I take a seat, spreading the toxicology reports out on the table so I can read them better.
“What is this about one killer?” Mcguire asks.
