The Killing Ground: A Foxx Files Thriller (6 page)

Meghan chuckled softly. “And that round goes to you. I’d say you don’t need any more practice.”

Jordan could sense the dismissal, and it didn’t bother her at all. Yes, sex with Meghan had been great, but by prearrangement, they had both already decided this was all they wanted. She pushed herself away from Meghan and smirked. “Thanks, darling. I’ll show myself out.”

Jordan pulled the door closed behind her and smiled again. She ran a finger under her nose and inhaled deeply. Very immature and too much like a man, but she did it anyway. She wouldn’t apologize for it either. She liked the way a woman smelled and tasted, and she lingered on the scent a moment longer before punching the button to call the elevator.

When she stepped outside, the cold hit her immediately, and she pulled her coat around her tightly. She shoved her hands in her pockets, wishing she had thought to bring her gloves. Despite the cold and the late hour, the city was still alive, and she decided she wanted another drink. She was about to pull her phone out to call Matty when it rang. She hit the accept button and held it against her ear with a shaky hand, unable to control her shivering. “Hello?”

“Special Agent Gray?” The voice on the other end was slightly familiar, and it only took Jordan a second to remember it.

“Detective Foxx. What brings you to my phone at this hour?” Jordan tried to ignore the slight flutter in her stomach when she said her name. She thought that Foxx was certainly a fitting moniker, but she suddenly wished that she was at liberty to call her Rebecca.

“We’ve got another victim.” Rebecca’s voice didn’t waver, but Jordan imagined she detected a hint of anger. And why not? Anyone surrounding this case couldn’t help but be angry.

“Where? I’ll be there in fifteen minutes.”

Jordan was surprised to hear that the body had been found in the same alley that Julie had been attacked in. She punched in Matty’s number and told him to be ready in five minutes. They had another hit in the case.

Fourteen minutes later, she screeched to a halt behind an already active crime scene. She flashed her badge to the patrolman who was holding the press back from the crime scene. She and Matt stooped under the crime tape, and she spotted Detective Foxx’s red hair. They stepped around officers and the medical examiner’s van.

Rebecca looked up as they approached and smiled warily. “Come on. I’ll show you the body.”

She led them into the alley, and Jordan was surprised to see what she surmised was a homeless man lying face down. A chilling thought hit her square in the stomach. “Tell me this isn’t the guy?”

Rebecca nodded. “We think so.”

Jordan stepped closer and studied the pool of blood around his body. She crinkled her forehead. “Looks dry. This guy has been dead awhile.”

“Witness says maybe since last night.” Rebecca said somberly. She met Jordan’s eyes, and a mutual understanding flashed between them. “Guy’s homeless, most people don’t notice them. Buddy of his says he didn’t show up at the shelter last night and then tonight either. Figured something was wrong, maybe died of hypothermia, so he called 911. Apparently, he likes this alley. Bread store around the corner throws out the day-old bread. So we looked here first.”

Jordan shook her head. “Fuck!” She rubbed the back of her neck in frustration. “You check out the body yet?’

Rebecca shook her head. “We are getting ready to. I wanted to wait until you guys showed up.”

“Thanks.” Jordan nodded her head in appreciation. “You got extra gloves?”

Rebecca handed her a pair of blue latex gloves, and she pulled them over her hands. Strangely, she wasn’t cold anymore. Her heart was racing now, and it chased the cold away. She knelt over the body and began a slow study of the body and the area surrounding it. She knelt over to look at his neck. “Shit.”

Rebecca jumped forward. “What?”

“Can we roll him over?”

Rebecca signaled for the rest of her CDD team and the M.E. “You guys okay if we roll him?”

The general consensus was yes, and Jordan and Rebecca eased him over onto his back. Rebecca jumped backward, her hand over her mouth. Matt, who came closer to help, stepped back quickly and swallowed, forcing the bile back down.

The man’s face was a mess. His eyes had been carved out, and his lips had been sliced off. Jordan had seen a lot of shit in her life, but nothing like this. She looked up and saw Rebecca’s eyes. She was angry and obviously trying to calm down before she looked closer.

“Talk about being in the wrong place at the wrong time.” Jordan stood up and pulled her gloves off. “I don’t think it’s a stretch to say this is the same guy. Matty said he would strike again, and he’s definitely pissed.”

“He’s getting messy.” Rebecca suggested. “He’s an emotional killer. It’s only a matter of time before he slips up and when he does, I’ll be there.”

“We’ll be there.” Jordan leveled her gaze on Rebecca. “This guy’s out for revenge. He’s not going to accept that Julie didn’t die, and he won’t give up until he gets her. From here on out, I’m going to be up your ass.”

Rebecca glared at her, anger evident in her features. The M.E. stepped around them, and Jordan was thankful for the space. She wasn’t sure, which was worse, her mother’s angry glare when she was younger or Detective Foxx’s angry gaze. “I don’t mean to step on toes, Detective. I just meant we have resources that, quite frankly, the CDD doesn’t have the budget for. We can help…if you let us.”

Rebecca’s anger dissipated somewhat, and Jordan swallowed nervously. Why on earth, it mattered that she got her approval was beyond Jordan’s imagination. “I think you need to pick your words more carefully. I already told you I would assist in whatever way possible, but you threatening to be up my ass is a surefire way to push me away.”

Jordan smiled ruefully. “Perhaps you’re right, Detective Foxx. I have a way of putting my foot in my mouth.”

“Detective?” The M.E. was leaning over the body, and she waived them over quickly. “You’re gonna want to see this.”

She gripped his chin and pulled his mouth open.

“Holy shit.” Jordan winced, unable to remain calm given the latest cruelty.

His eyes had been cut out and shoved in his mouth, a clear message that his unfortunate sighting and subsequent telling of Julie’s attack had gotten him brutally murdered. He would end up just another person with no name or story that would be forgotten by tomorrow.

Rebecca spun on her heel and marched away quickly. She waited for Jordan to catch up. “Whatever the FBI can do to help, do it.”

Jordan nodded. She knew from the two brief encounters with Detective Foxx that she was a proud woman, fiercely protective of her territory. To ask for help, even that which had been previously offered, required a quiet strength that few possessed. Jordan imagined that doing so had knocked her down a few notches, and her admiration for this woman grew exponentially.

“Come see me tomorrow. Bring the autopsy results. We’ll see what we can put together on this guy.” Jordan offered quietly.

Rebecca smiled and thanked her reluctantly. She didn’t want to need help, especially Jordan’s help. She couldn’t decide which was worse, Jordan’s overt attempt at seduction in an attempt to get her way, or Matt’s subtle way of playing good cop to Jordan’s bad cop. What irritated her more was that she found herself actually tempted to take Jordan up on her offer.

She didn’t have much time outside work for relationships. She wasn’t sure she even wanted one. If she guessed correctly, sex was all Jordan was offering, and that was really all Rebecca had or wanted to give. Truth be told, she missed it. It had been months since she had touched another woman, and she was hungry to taste someone’s arousal, to have a woman’s touch bring her to orgasm.

Shaking her head, she dismissed the thought of her and Jordan as quickly as it had surfaced, trying to ignore the nagging tug in her chest or the pulsating ache in her clit. That was just what she needed, something else to cloud her judgment and keep her from devoting her time to the real problem. This case.

Chapter 6

“So, what do you think?” Jordan fiddled with her radio trying to find something that wasn’t Justin Bieber pop.

“Guy’s fucking crazy. He’s definitely got an ax to grind. I’m not sure where the hate is coming from though. It’s probably a good idea to bring Detective Foxx in to speak with our profiler.”

“Already suggested it.” Jordan laughed softly. “She wasn’t happy about it.”

“She can’t argue with that. The FBI has resources they will never have.” Matt’s tone was adamant, but there was a hint of something softer buried between the words.

Jordan studied Matt’s profile in the dim lights of her console. Her 370Z hummed along the quiet night streets, and she preferred to keep the peace between them, but a thought nagged at her until she opened her mouth and it spilled out. “You like the Detective, huh?”

For a moment, she thought he would not answer, and she had almost given up when he looked at her out of the corner of his eyes. “Yeah, I do.”

Jordan glanced over and saw the telltale puppy-dog look in his eyes, a look she knew well. “Shit, Matty. You really like her. Is that going to be a problem?”

He shook his head. “I have it under control, okay?”

“Good.” Jordan slowed down and stopped in front of his building. “I don’t think she’s the type to mix business and pleasure. Don’t get yourself hurt.”

She could see his jaw tighten, his only sign her words affected him. He ran a hand through his hair. “I said I got this.”

He opened the door and stepped out without another word. She watched him let himself into his building, a slight slump in his shoulders belying the fact that the bravado he showed her was just a façade.

“Whatever.” Jordan gunned the engine and pulled away on screeching tires. She felt reckless tonight. A few hours ago, she had been knee-deep in a frenzied bout of sex with a woman she found attractive and uncomplicated. That should be enough. Instead, she was worried about Matty and Detective Foxx. What she should have worried about was following Matt’s lead and starting to care too much for the Detective herself.

Jordan pulled into the parking garage that connected with the tower she lived in. She parked and was just about to go in, when she realized she was so wound up, there was no way she could settle down tonight. She punched the elevator and when the doors opened, she hit the ground floor instead of going up.

She wasn’t sure where she wanted to go, she only knew it was anywhere except her home. She wandered up the dark street, her senses on high alert. Downtown Chicago was safe most times, but the events of the past few days made her leery. Subconsciously, she patted her side. She felt the hard casing of her holster. She fingered the grip of her Glock and let out a breath.

She wasn’t sure why she needed to feel it attached to her side to feel safe. Maybe it was more to reassure herself that it was actually there. Her hand strayed to her left shoulder. The scar was still there. The one time she had been unarmed was the one time she had been shot. It was stupid really. She was getting her weapon serviced, and she had stumbled into a robbery unarmed. She was actually lucky the bullet had only hit her shoulder and not six inches lower.

She shook her head, realizing she was doing it again, reliving the past. She tried not to do that.
Don’t stop thinking about tomorrow
. Her mantra, one she stole from a Fleetwood Mac song. Besides, looking into her past just made her angry, and she didn’t want to feel anger. She functioned better when she stayed level—headed.

It wasn’t until she heard the bartender ask what she wanted that she realized she had ended up in her favorite dive, Franks. She ordered a whiskey on the rocks and made it a double. She eyed the pool table and figured she could challenge herself to a round or two. Between that and Jack Daniels, she may be able to stop her mind from replaying everything she had seen in the past week.

The cool wood sliding between her fingers and the resounding crack and subsequent drop and roll of the seven ball calmed her frazzled nerves, or maybe her second double in as many minutes. She lined up the two ball and sent it into the corner pocket with a satisfying thud.

“So, you’re a night owl too?”

Jordan looked up and saw Rebecca leaning against the doorframe. If she was surprised to see her there, her face didn’t show it. Instead, an almost friendly smile had replaced the ever—present glare that Jordan was getting used to. She had changed into faded blue jeans and a worn out button-down shirt. Jordan had to admit she looked incredibly sexy away from work.

“Yeah, I don’t sleep much anyway, and this case has me all riled up.”

Jordan watched her push off the doorframe and walk towards her. She set her beer bottle down and grabbed a stick. “Up for a game?”

Jordan quirked an eyebrow in disbelief. “Sure. Although, I didn’t think you liked me enough to suffer my company.”

Rebecca laughed, and Jordan felt herself shiver. Her laugh was definitely sexy, just like the rest of her. “Forgive me, Agent, but you will learn pretty quickly that I take my job very seriously, and I don’t like it when I’m stuck in a pissing contest over whose jurisdiction it is, when all I want to do is make the streets a little safer. Besides, beating you will be much more enjoyable than beating myself.”

“Please call me Jordan.” Jordan studied Rebecca’s face as she re—racked the balls. She stood with her hands rested on the top of her stick. “If that’s not overstepping my bounds.”

Jordan winked as she said the words and Rebecca couldn’t help but smile. Outside of work, Jordan was even more of a distraction, and she welcomed the warm feeling that was starting to spread through her body. She wasn’t sure if it was the beer or Jordan, but she didn’t care. “Alright, Jordan it is…outside work.”

Jordan covered a smile. Even off—duty Rebecca couldn’t let go of her control. “Are you always this competitive?”

Rebecca met her gaze and had to force herself to pull away. She realized that looking into Jordan’s eyes was a bad idea. She could see getting lost in them, and that wasn’t something she would allow herself to do. “With four brothers, I had to be.”