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But Olivia would not be intimidated.
As long as we understand each other, Agent St. Martin, he said. Ready to share? He made a
sweeping gesture with his arm toward the door.
Olivia released a pent-up breath. Slowly, so neither Chief Pierson nor Detective Travis could see her
relief.
Absolutely, she said as she stood, holding her briefcase. She nodded to the chief and followed the
detective from the office.
I have one of the conference rooms set up for this case, Travis said. Let s go there.
I m not here to cause problems, Olivia said, feeling a strong need for him to accept her.
I m sure you re not. Sarcastic.
You don t like the FBI?
My dealings with them in the past have never been what you d call positive.
She frowned. She knew some stories of locals and the FBI not getting along, but she d always been two
or three steps removed from the investigation. Everyone she worked with seemed to be friendly. True,
her experience was often thousands of miles away in a crime lab, but she thought she would have picked
up on hostilities.
Detective Travis led her through a maze of desks. A dozen men and women watched them pass. Their
watchful eyes made her increasingly nervous as she crossed the brightly lit space. She kept her face
impassive, determined not to let any of these people get to her. She was already playing a dangerous
game; jeopardizing her career was only the beginning. But she would see it through. She had to.
She would find Missy s killer and he would pay. Justice would be served. Or she would die trying.
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The thought didn t scare her andthat worried her. Sheshould be scared. She should be terrified of the
killer who by her count had raped and murdered no less than twenty-nine girls in thirty-four years.
Thirty, counting the death of Michelle Davidson.
But she d come this far. There was no backing out now.
Zack stopped abruptly and turned into a conference room, closing the door behind them. Sit. We have
a lot of work to do.
Olivia put her briefcase down and slid into a chair. I said I would share everything I have. I don t think
it s fair that you re judging me without even giving me a chance to prove that I have no agenda other than
to capture this killer. A tickle of guilt flitted down her spine. She was withholding information from him,
but not about the case.
He pulled out a chair and sat heavily, pulling a stack of files toward him. He stared at her, seeming to
weigh her words. His scrutiny made her uncomfortable, but she held firm. Zack Travis was the type of
cop who would see right through her if she eventhought about lowering her shields.
I m glad that we could come to an agreement, he finally said, without directly responding to her
comments. Our department wants to find this guy just as bad as your agency.
Olivia nodded.No you don t. No one wants this guy more than I do.
Zack noticed an odd look cross Agent St. Martin s face, something he recognized but couldn t put a
name to. She straightened her back, which didn t do much for her overall height. She was petite, trim,
with an hourglass figure under an expensive suit.
As he stared, she tightened her jaw. He almost missed her biting the inside of her cheek, and for a brief
moment she looked haunted. But he blinked and whatever he thought he saw had disappeared, and she
simply looked like someone used to being in charge.
Zack said, Do you have a first name? Or should I just call youSuperagent ?
He liked the way she bristled. She would have been fun to tease if they didn t have serious business
ahead of them.
Olivia, she said.
Do people call youLiv ?
She shrugged. Some.
He waved a hand to the murder boards set up against the far wall. He d watched her eyes darting
toward them, obviously eager to get started.
What do you know of my cases?
She tucked her hair behind her ear, but it almost immediately fell forward. Initially, I read the press
reports, then I had the lab reports sent to me so I could review the evidence. But everything I have is
from the Benedict murder. I haven t had time to review the Davidson file. I assume it s the same killer?
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Yes.
No doubt?
Not in my book. The director of the crime lab is taking the case himself. Doug Cohn. He
concurs same knife, same M.O., and he paused, then said, You know about the hair, right?
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