a sweeping stare of comprehension, before stopping on the cases in her hand.
“I heard about the woman,” she greeted, walking forward with her hand outstretched. Her purple glasses were pushed to the top of her head, her hair pulled back in a loose ponytail. Lara handed the CCTV footage over. “Was it true? The stamp, I mean.”
Lara didn’t want to, but she nodded. “Yes.”
Cass sat back in her chair and swiveled around. “Where?” Her voice was clipped.
“Her cheek.”
Cass nodded. Her head tilted slightly. Lara bet she was looking at the picture of Allie on her desk. They didn’t speak for a moment. Lara didn’t want to intrude on her thoughts, but, then she knew she had to do just that.
“She was found in the dressing room. No cameras at the entrance. The top DVD is from the camera closest, but the security guard said it went inactive for a few minutes,” she explained.
“During the attack,” Cass supplied.
“More than likely, yes. Officers already went through it. Said they didn’t find anything, but there has to be something.”
Cass slipped her glasses down to her nose. “And I’ll find it.”
Voices sounded in the hallway.
“They’re back,” Lara said, hearing Nick. “I’m going to see if they found anything.”
Cass waved over her shoulder. “Go. I’ll find you when I find something. But, Lara...” She turned in her chair. Her expression was blank. Lara saw something she’d missed when she’d first come in. Cass looked exhausted.
“Yes?”
“What was the victim’s name?”
It was Lara’s turn to stiffen. “Elizabeth Grant,” she bit out.
Cass’s expression hardened. “I’ll look for a connection between our victims,” she said, already turning back to the wall of monitors.
“Thank you, Cass.”
Lara followed the voice to the break room. Nick had his phone to his ear, leaning against the counter. He acknowledged her with a small nod.
“Call me if you find anything,” he said. “No matter the time. Understand?” Whoever was on the other end of the line must have. Nick ended the call moments later. “NYPD,” he said, motioning to his phone.
“I’m assuming that means no luck on your end.”
Nick shook his head. Lara wasn’t surprised. “No one saw anything,” he said. “Our sniper vanished in the wind.”
Lara ran a hand over her face and winced at the movement. Her shoulder was still tender.
“I’m surprised you didn’t catch him,” Nick said, his eyes at her shoulder. “The way you tore after him.” He went over to the refrigerator and opened the freezer side. Moving a few things around, he pulled an ice pack out. “Can we talk about how you might think to use some caution every now and again, though? Running toward a sniper tends to fall into the dangerous category. Not to mention, careless. You could have been killed.”
He threw her the pack. She caught it with her left hand before placing it against her right shoulder. She couldn’t deny it felt good.
“I think dangerous is a part of our job description,” she said, drily. “Including but not limited to running headlong into the unknown.”
“Except this wasn’t the unknown,” he pointed out. “It was right up to the sniper who’d just picked off two potential leads only a few feet away.”
“So I should have let him get away without a fight?” Lara asked. She dropped her voice, ice finding its way into the resolve behind each syllable. “I couldn’t and wouldn’t let that happen. Whoever this sniper is, he needs to be stopped. He knows something, and he knows who else knows something, too. Little fish to catch a big fish.”
Nick didn’t combat that idea. He went back to the refrigerator and pulled out a bottle of water. After he took a long drink, he gave her a grin. His passive admonishment was over.
For now.
“Scaling a fire escape and using your body as a battering ram... It was impressive.”
Lara didn’t deserve the respect behind his tone. She readjusted the ice pack.
“Impressive but ineffective. If I would have caught him, then that would have been impressive.”
His grin turned into a smirk. “You don’t take compliments well, do you?” He didn’t give her time to answer before his lips turned down. The humor there was gone. “So, what did you find on your end?”
Lara wasn’t a fan of sighing, but frustration pushed the breath between her lips. She felt her body momentarily sag as she answered. “Nothing good.”
“Are there any connections between the victims? Lara Bowman and Elizabeth Grant.” Lara took a seat next to Cass, who had set up at the head of the conference table. Victoria stood between them, her face pinched in concentration. Nick and Xander were on the other side, varying looks of enthusiasm while Mei and Ty finished eating their fast food farther down. Everyone was tired and frustrated. This case was wearing on them.
“No,” she answered. “As far as I can tell the killer is likely doing local online searches for those who fit their criteria—your name—and then stalking and killing those who match up.”
“There has to be some kind of pattern we can uncover,” Mei said around a bite of food. “We need to figure out what connection to Lara might be used next.”
Nick evened his gaze at his partner.
“What’s your middle name?”
“I don’t have one,” she answered honestly.
“You don’t have a middle name?” Ty jumped in, a half smile pulling up his lips. “So you’re like Cher or Madonna.”
“They don’t have last names. I clearly have that,” she corrected, a little too harsh. His smile dropped. She had to remind herself that he was only trying to lighten the mood. She readjusted in her seat. “I guess for the first time in my life, I’m glad I never got that middle initial.”
“Don’t celebrate yet. If someone’s already gone through the trouble to kill those with your name, I doubt they’ll let the lack of middle name stop them,” Xander pointed out.
He was right.
“If it’s really Moretti ordering these hits to toy with you, maybe he’ll target women with names from when you were undercover,” Ty offered. “What was your cover name?”
Lara felt the hesitation behind her response.
