night. She hadn’t really spoken about it that morning. He had been in her same graduating class but he loathed sentimental nonsense like high school reunions. All it was at its core was an excuse for classmates to get together ten or twenty years later to see who was doing better than everyone else. But once Lauren’s friends had convinced her to go, she’d gotten almost excited about seeing some of her old classmates. Or so it had seemed. The intake of alcohol last night indicated that it might have been a rough night all around.
These thoughts were parading through Jerry’s head as he made his way through the upstairs hallway toward their bedroom. But as he neared the doorway, he stopped.
It was very quiet.
Sure, this was to be expected if Lauren was indeed taking a nap and had not put on Netflix to finish binging whichever show had been her fancy for the week. But this was a different kind of quiet…a total lack of movement or motion that seemed out of place. It was like a silence he could hear—a silence he could literally feel.
Something’s wrong, he thought.
It was a frightening thought but still, he moved toward the door quickly. He had to know, had to make sure…
Make sure what?
All he saw at first was red. On the bedsheets, on the walls, a dark red so thick and dark that it was almost black in places.
A scream pushed itself up through his lungs and out of his mouth. He didn’t know if he should go running to her or downstairs to the phone.
In the end, he did neither. His legs gave out and the weight of his gut-wrenching screams took him to the floor, where he pounded his fists, where he tried to make sense of the horrific sight in front of him.
CHAPTER ONE
Chloe focused, narrowed her vision down the sight of the gun, and fired.
The recoil was gentle, the blast light and almost peaceful to her. She breathed deeply and fired again. It was easy; it came naturally to her now.
She could not see the target at the other end of the indoor range, but she knew she’d made two good shots. She was able to get a sense about these things lately. It was one of the ways she knew she was growing into the position as an agent. She was more comfortable with the sidearm, the stock and the trigger as familiar as her own hands when she could really get into the zone. In the past, she’d gone to the range only as a study of sorts, a way to improve and get better. But now, she enjoyed it. There was freedom to it, a weird release from firing at even just a paper target.
God knew she needed to feel that way as of late.
It had been a lackluster two weeks at work, leaving Chloe with nothing much to do but assisting others with data and research work. She’d nearly been pulled in to help a team with a small-time hacking sting and she’d been far too excited about it. It made her realize just how slow things had been for her as of late.
That’s how she ended up at the range. It wasn’t necessarily her ideal way to pass the time, but she knew she needed some practice. While she had been among the best in her class on her way through the academy, being transitioned from the Evidence Response Team to the Violent Crimes Program had made her realize that she could never be too sharp, too on top of her game.
As she fired off several more rounds into a target fifty yards away, she understood how people were drawn to it. You were absolutely alone, just you and your firearm and a target in the sights. There was something very Zen about it, the focus and the intent behind it. And then there was the pop of the gunshot in the open space. The one thing Chloe had always taken away from her time at the range was just how fluid the relationship between the human body and a sidearm could be. When focused, her Glock felt like a simple extension of her arm, something else she could control with her mind in the same way she controlled the movements of her fingers or arms. It was a cautionary example of how her gun should only be used when absolutely necessary because when you are trained to use it, it can start to feel almost too natural to squeeze the trigger.
When her session was over, she collected her targets and took stock. She had a surprising number of direct hits to the center of the target but a few stragglers to the outside, right along the edges of the paper.
She took a few pictures of the targets with her phone and made a few notes, ensuring that she would improve next time. She then tossed the paper targets and made her way out of the facility. As she did, she felt yet another thing that she assumed was so appealing to those who spent a great deal of time at the range. The feeling of numerous recoils thrumming through her hands and wrists felt peculiar, yet at the same time, pleasant in a way she could not quite describe.
As she made her way out through the lobby, she saw a familiar face coming through the door. It was Kyle Moulton, the man who had been assigned as her partner but also a man she had not seen much of over the last few weeks due to the slow caseload. She had a moment of school-girl panic when Moulton flashed a smile at her as the doors closed behind her.
“Agent Fine,” he said, with an almost sarcastic tone. They knew each other well enough to drop the Agent and just use first names. In fact, Chloe was certain there was some romantic tension brewing between them. She’d felt it on her end almost right away, from the moment she had seen him to the moment they had wrapped their first case three months ago.
“Agent Moulton,” she responded in kind.
“Blowing off steam or just passing the time?” he asked.
“A bit of both,” she said. “I’m just feeling restless lately, you know?”
“I do. Riding a desk doesn’t seem to do it for me, either. But…well, I didn’t know you frequented the gun range.”
“Just trying to stay sharp.”
“I see,” he said, smiling.
The silence that fell on them was the typical one that Chloe was getting used to. She hated to feel so conceited, but she was fairly certain he was feeling the same thing she was feeling. It was evident in every little glance they gave one another and the way Moulton could not look at her in the eyes for more than three seconds—like right now, in that moment, as they stood at the doorway of the shooting range.
“So look,” Moulton said. “This may sound stupid and it might even be a little reckless, but I was wondering if you’d like to have dinner with me tonight. Like, not as partners.”
Chloe was unable to keep the smile from jumping up on her face. She wanted to say something a little biting and sarcastic in response. Maybe a cliché “Well, it’s about time,” or something like that.
Instead, she settled for a much safer and genuine: “Yeah, I think I’d really like that.”
“If I’m being honest, I’ve wanted to ask you for a while now but…well, it was always so busy. And these last few weeks have been pretty much the opposite.”
“I’m glad you finally decided to ask me.”
That silence wrapped around them again and this time, he was able to meet her gaze without looking away. For a moment, she was pretty sure he was going to kiss her. But the moment passed and he nodded toward the doors.
“I’d better get to it,” he said. “Call me later to let me know where you’d like to eat.”
“I will.”
She
