CHAPTER 140

ALEXANDER

Detective Bowler was not a smart man. I could almost see myself in him, more in the way he was obsessive to the point of insanity than in the lack of intelligence.

I’d made a couple of calls to the sheriff and some of the elites I found I could use their discretion to find out details of Kayla Storm’s case.

“It's a homicide Alexander,” Billie Mason’s voice crackled through the speakers as I dodged the red work of a car speeding past, blinking away the wash of the bright yellow headlights that had blinded me temporarily as the shrill beep of the horn ebbed in my ears.

Billie Mason was one of the eyes I had in the system, and I didn't know shit about the woman past the fact that she worked with the FBI, had three children, was twice divorced, with a penchant for hiking lonely roads at midnight.

In other words, a good fucking spy.

“No traces of sexual abuse or drugs were found in her system. Forensics suggests the killer was left-handed and based on the decomposition Alex, I’d