Murder strikes close to home

for a new K-9 unit in Brooklyn

When a double homicide is strikingly familiar to a twenty-year-old cold case, Detective Nate Slater is rattled by the parallels. With a child as the only witness, he and his K-9 partner must protect little Lucy and her aunt, Willow Emery. Nate’s rough past means he always keeps an emotional distance…but in this case getting closer is the only way they’ll all survive.

True Blue K-9 Unit: Brooklyn

LAURA SCOTT is a nurse by day and an author by night. She has always loved romance and read faith-based books by Grace Livingston Hill in her teenage years. She’s thrilled to have published over twenty-five books for Love Inspired Suspense. She has two adult children and lives in Milwaukee, Wisconsin, with her husband of over thirty years. Please visit Laura at laurascottbooks.com.

Also By Laura Scott

True Blue K-9 Unit: Brooklyn

Copycat Killer

Justice Seekers

Soldier’s Christmas Secrets

Callahan Confidential

Shielding His Christmas Witness

The Only Witness

Christmas Amnesia

Shattered Lullaby

Primary Suspect

Protecting His Secret Son

True Blue K-9 Unit

Blind Trust

True Blue K-9 Unit Christmas

“Holiday Emergency”

Discover more at millsandboon.co.uk.

Copycat Killer

Laura Scott

www.millsandboon.co.uk

ISBN: 978-0-008-90668-9

COPYCAT KILLER

© 2020 Harlequin Books S.A.

Published in Great Britain 2020

by Mills & Boon, an imprint of HarperCollinsPublishers 1 London Bridge Street, London, SE1 9GF

All rights reserved including the right of reproduction in whole or in part in any form. This edition is published by arrangement with Harlequin Books S.A.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, locations and incidents are purely fictional and bear no relationship to any real life individuals, living or dead, or to any actual places, business establishments, locations, events or incidents. Any resemblance is entirely coincidental.

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Nate heard Willow scream.

He wheeled around the corner, his heart lodged in his throat.

Lucy was crying, loud screeching sobs. “Aunt Willow! Aunt Willow! Come back!”

Someone dressed in black with a hat pulled low over his forehead was dragging Willow toward a sedan.

“Stop! Police!” Nate shouted. Realizing he might be

too late, he reached down and released his yellow Lab’s leash. “Get him, Murphy. Get him!”

His K-9 partner took off running. The man’s eyes widened and he pushed Willow to the ground and raced away, the dog giving chase.

TRUE BLUE K-9 UNIT: BROOKLYN

These police officers fight for justice with the help of their brave canine partners.

Copycat Killer by Laura Scott, April 2020

Chasing Secrets by Heather Woodhaven, May 2020

Deadly Connection by Lenora Worth, June 2020

Explosive Situation by Terri Reed, July 2020

Tracking a Kidnapper by Valerie Hansen, August 2020

Scene of the Crime by Sharon Dunn, September 2020

Cold Case Pursuit by Dana Mentink, October 2020

Delayed Justice by Shirlee McCoy, November 2020

True Blue K-9 Unit Christmas: Brooklyn by Laura Scott and Maggie K. Black, December 2020

Dear Reader,

It’s such an honor to be included in this amazing group of authors to write these wonderful K-9 stories. This year I’m blessed to kick off the True Blue K-9 Unit: Brooklyn series. I hope you enjoy reading about the new Brooklyn K-9 Unit and the team that is working hard to keep the streets of New York safe.

I hope you enjoy the upcoming books in the series; they are incredible stories. And of course, you’ll want to find out who killed the Emerys and the McGregors.

I always enjoy hearing from my readers. You can find me through my website at https://www.laurascottbooks.com, on Facebook at https://www.facebook.com/LauraScottBooks and on Twitter at https://twitter.com/laurascottbooks. I offer an exclusive and free novella to all newsletter subscribers, so sign up now through my website to get your copy.

Yours in faith,

Laura Scott

Blessed is he whose transgression is forgiven, whose sin is covered.

—Psalm 32:1

This book is dedicated to Lisa Collins, who loves dogs as much as I do. I’m so happy to have our families forever joined by the marriage of our children.

Contents

Cover

Back Cover Text

About the Author

Booklist

Title Page

Copyright

Note to Readers

Introduction

Dear Reader

Bible Verse

Dedication

ONE

TWO

THREE

FOUR

FIVE

SIX

SEVEN

EIGHT

NINE

TEN

ELEVEN

TWELVE

THIRTEEN

FOURTEEN

FIFTEEN

SIXTEEN

SEVENTEEN

EIGHTEEN

Extract

Extract

About the Publisher

ONE

Willow Emery approached her brother and sister-in-law’s two-story home in Brooklyn, New York, with a deep sense of foreboding. The white paint on the front door of the yellow brick building was cracked and peeling, the windows covered with grime. A short decorative black iron fence surrounded the small front yard, revealing empty food wrappers and cigarette butts strewn across the tiny lawn. She swallowed hard, hating that her three-year-old niece, Lucy, lived in such deplorable conditions.

Steeling her resolve, she straightened her shoulders. This time, she wouldn’t be dissuaded so easily. Her older brother, Alex, and his wife, Debra, had to agree that Lucy deserved better.

Squeak. Squeak. The rusty gate moving in the breeze caused a chill to ripple through her. Why was it open? She hurried forward and her stomach knotted when she found the front door hanging ajar. The tiny hairs on the back of her neck lifted in alarm and a shiver rippled down her spine.

Something was wrong. Very wrong.

Thunk. The loud sound startled her. Was that a door closing? Or something worse? Her heart pounded in her chest and her mouth went dry. Following her gut instincts, Willow quickly pushed the front door open and crossed the threshold. The assault of sour milk mixed with awful bodily odors hit hard. Bile rose in her throat as she strained to listen. “Alex? Lucy?”

There was no answer, only the echo of soft, hiccuping sobs.

“Lucy!” Hurrying now, she followed the sound through the kitchen, briefly taking note of the dozens of empty liquor bottles and overflowing dirty dishes in the sink. Reaching the living room, she stumbled to an abrupt halt, her feet seemingly glued to the floor. Lucy was kneeling near her mother, crying. Alex and Debra were lying facedown, unmoving and not breathing, blood seeping out from beneath them.

Were those bullet holes between their shoulder blades? Her brother’s head was turned to the side, his eyes vacant and staring. No! Alex! A wave of nausea had her placing a hand over her stomach.

She locked her gaze on her niece. “Lucy?”

The girl lifted her head. Her tearstained face tugged at her heart. “Aunt Willow, Mommy and Daddy won’t wake up,” she sobbed.

“Lucy, sweetie, it’s okay. Come with me, baby.” Hands shaking, Willow stepped carefully, avoiding the large pool of blood, until she was close enough to lift Lucy up and into her arms.

Lucy didn’t stop crying, but curled her arms around her neck, clinging tightly. Willow pressed a hand to her niece’s wavy blond hair, holding her close for a long moment. Then she shifted the girl to her hip, bent down and pressed her fingers against her brother’s neck, searching for a pulse.

Nothing.

A sob rose in her throat, but she fought it back. With trembling fingers, she checked Debra, too. Still nothing. Should she try CPR?

Remembering the thud gave her pause. She glanced furtively over her shoulder toward the single bedroom on the main floor. The door was closed. What if the gunman was still here? Waiting? Hiding?

The terrifying possibility had her spinning away and retracing her steps through the disgusting kitchen and out the front door. She stumbled through the lawn, kicking something that crinkled beneath her foot out of the way, until she reached the sidewalk.

Fumbling for her phone with her right hand, she tried to understand what had just happened. Who had shot Alex and Debra? And why? What caused the thudding noise?

What had her older brother gotten himself into?

She pulled herself together, knowing she needed to call the police, to get help.

She dialed 911 and pressed the phone to her ear, one arm still securely wrapped around Lucy.

“This is the operator. What’s the nature of your emergency?”

“My brother and his wife have been shot. Please send the police right away!”

“Are you safe, ma’am?”

Good question. The back of her neck tingled with fear and she whipped around, frantically searching for something, anything, out of place. She wished for a place to hide. There was a small tree nearby, and she instinctively made her way toward it, cowering beneath the branches that were just now budding leaves, pressing her back against the slim trunk. “I—I don’t know.”

“What’s the address?”

She rattled off the number of the house on Thirty-Fifth Street. “It’s off Linden Boulevard in East Flatbush. Please hurry!”

“I’m calling the closest officer to your location. Please stay on the line.”

“Just get here, soon!” Willow didn’t want to stay on the line; she needed both of her arms to hold Lucy. Leaving the phone on speaker, she tucked it into the back pocket of her jeans. She held her niece, stroking a soothing hand down Lucy’s back, murmuring reassuringly in her ear. Vehicles moved up and down Linden Boulevard, yet Willow still felt vulnerable. Exposed. What if they were still in danger?

What if the gunman was out there, watching her?

She swept her gaze over the area again, but still didn’t see anything suspicious. Yet she couldn’t shake the itchy feeling of being watched. The narrow tree offered little protection. Where should she go? What should she do? She momentarily closed her eyes, fighting panic.

Dear Lord, keep us safe in Your care!

The whispered prayer helped to calm her irrational need to run far, far away. Her apartment was in Bay Ridge, too far to walk, let alone run. Not to mention the bloodstains on Lucy’s clothes would draw attention to them. Willow took several deep breaths, knowing she needed to relax so Lucy wouldn’t pick up on her fear.

“It’s okay, Lucy. We’re fine. We’re going to be just fine.”

Lucy’s crying slowly quieted, but the little girl didn’t release her deathlike grip, as if afraid of being left behind.

A white SUV with the blue NYPD K-9 logo along the side and a red flashing light on its dashboard came barreling down the street toward them, abruptly pulling over to the curb. A tall, lean blond officer dressed in a black uniform came out from behind the wheel, weapon held ready. Moving quickly, he opened his hatch, letting a beautiful yellow Lab wearing a K9 vest out of the back.

“Stay where you are,” the officer said when she moved from the relative safety of the tree to head toward him. His gaze raked the area as he hurried over. His name tag identified his last name as Detective Slater. “What happened? Are you both okay?”

“Yes. But I found my brother and his wife d—” She glanced at Lucy and amended what she’d been about to say. “Um, hurt. Both the gate and the front door were hanging ajar when I arrived.” She shivered, the reality of it all just starting to sink in. “The bedroom door was closed. I’m afraid someone is still inside.”

He nodded but didn’t move away. He spoke into his radio, asking for an ETA of his backup. She couldn’t deny the overwhelming relief she and Lucy were no longer alone.

“I need you to both wait inside my SUV.” He took her elbow and urged her toward the police vehicle just as his backup arrived. “Stay inside. I’ll be back soon.”

She didn’t argue, feeling much safer inside the car. She continued to hold Lucy on her lap as she watched Detective Slater and two uniformed cops go inside the house with their weapons up in a two-handed grip.

The seconds went by with excruciating slowness and she buried her face against Lucy’s hair, still grappling with what had happened.

A sharp rap against the window startled her. She relaxed when she saw Detective Slater standing there. He opened the door and she slid out, standing to face him. She had to look up at him, which was unusual as she was taller than most women. His expression was kind, but grim. “I’m sorry for your loss. The house is clear. There’s no one inside.”

Sorry for your loss. She momentarily closed her eyes and rested her cheek on Lucy’s head. She’d known her brother and his wife were dead.

Murdered.

Why? She couldn’t imagine anyone wanting to kill her brother and his wife. And what about Lucy?

Was the little girl in danger, too?

Nate Slater kept his gaze on the tall, pretty woman holding the cute little girl, fearing she might collapse under the weight of the bad news.

He tucked a hand beneath her elbow to hold her steady. “Are you sure you’re okay?”

She shook her head, but then nodded. Shrugged. “I have to be.”

He understood where she was coming from. The poor woman and the little girl had witnessed the result of violence that most only read about. Going through an ordeal like this couldn’t be easy for either of them.

As part of the newly established Brooklyn K-9 Unit, an offshoot of the original NYC K-9 Command Unit that was still located in Queens, he and his four-legged partner, Murphy, had been dealing with another issue close by when he’d gotten the call to come to this location. The Brooklyn K-9 Unit responded to calls across all five boroughs of New York City, the canine partners’ specializations aiding the officers in investigating crimes and tracking down perpetrators. Nate’s dog was cross-trained in a variety of skills. “I need to ask a few questions, Ms....”

“Willow. Willow Emery. This is my niece, Lucy Emery.” She raised her chin and the stubborn flash in her light brown eyes was surprisingly reassuring. “I’ll tell you whatever you need to know.”

“You mentioned the front door wasn’t closed all the way. Did your brother normally keep the place locked up?”

“Yes. Always. That’s why the noise was so jarring.”

“Noise?” His interest was piqued.

She nodded. “A thud, like a door banging closed.”

“Or the sound of gunfire?”

Her eyes rounded in horror. “No!”

The timing seemed off, but he continued. “Okay, and normally the back door would also be locked?” He’d noticed the back door had been closed, but not locked. It appeared the intruder may have been let in from the front, maybe someone the victims had known. Something must have gone wrong, and they’d been shot in the back, the killer escaping out the back door.

“I think so, yes. Unless they were outside. The back patio has a little fence around it, similar to the one in the front.”

Yeah, he’d noticed the fence, more for decoration than anything else, and not very high, so any able-bodied person could easily climb over.

He felt certain the perp had escaped that way and itched to begin searching. But he needed more information, something to go on.

“Lucy?” He waited for the little girl to look up at him. “Did you see anything?”

She didn’t answer, and Willow lightly stroked her hair.

“It’s okay, tell the policeman what you saw.”

“Bad clown.”

Lucy’s whisper gave him pause. Nate leaned closer, trying to appear nonthreatening. “What did you say?”

Lucy immediately ducked her head, hiding her face against Willow’s neck.

He caught Willow’s gaze, silently pleading. He needed to question the little girl further.

“Lucy, you’re safe here with me and Detective Slater. But we really need to know, did you see someone hurt your mommy and daddy?” Willow’s tone was soft, gentle.

There was a momentary hesitation, then the little girl gave a tentative nod.

Nate’s pulse spiked with adrenaline. A possible witness, albeit a very young one. But maybe old enough to provide something for them to go on. “Can you tell me what you saw?”

Lucy hunched her shoulders without responding. Long seconds ticked by before the child finally said, “The bad clown weared black.”

Bad clown wearing black? Nate still didn’t quite get it, but now they had a description to go on. The two uniformed officers who’d helped him clear the house crossed over to join him, as another K-9 officer from his unit, Vivienne Armstrong, and her black-and-white border collie partner, Hank, arrived. Hank’s specialty was search and rescue, and Nate was glad to have the excellent tracker on the hunt.

“Nate? What’s going on?” Vivienne asked.

He stepped back from Willow and Lucy, instinctively taking charge of the scene. “Two DOAs inside, house has been cleared but it’s possible the perp went out the back. I need one NYPD officer to stay here with Willow and Lucy. The rest of us need to fan out and search for the killer, likely dressed in black and possibly wearing a mask.” He couldn’t be certain what Lucy meant by clown and thought the perp could be wearing something plastic over his or her face.

“I’ll stay,” Officer Klein volunteered.

“Good. Murphy and I will go south. Vivienne, you and Hank head east. I need you, Officer Talbot, to head west,” he directed. He didn’t think anyone would have come north toward the front of the house. “Keep your radio frequency open and if you find someone suspicious, proceed with caution. Perp is likely armed with a gun.”

“Got it,” Vivienne said as the rest nodded in agreement.

The three of them split up, he and Murphy taking the path he thought was more likely the one the killer used as an escape route. The Holy Saints Cemetery was located a few blocks to the south of the Emery property, and he thought there was a good chance the “bad clown wearing black” had gone that way.

A quick glance at the crime scene hadn’t revealed anything left behind by the perp. He wanted to stay to search more closely but couldn’t deny a keen sense of urgency. How much time had passed since the emergency call Willow had made? Five minutes? Seven?

Too long.

He and Murphy reached the twin dark gray stone arches of the cemetery entrance in less than two minutes. Entering the cemetery grounds, he examined the soft earth around the tombstones searching for signs of footprints. After the April rainstorm late yesterday afternoon, which had softened the ground and eliminated most of the leftover remnants of winter snow, he was hopeful no one could cut through without leaving evidence behind.

A partial footprint in the mud caught his gaze. It was wide on top and deep, making him think it was made by a man, maybe even someone running. Expanding his search, he tried to find another one that looked similar, in an effort to provide a direction the perp may have taken. He wanted to use the footprint as a scent source for Murphy to follow, but knew that without a second footprint indicating evidence of running away, he couldn’t be sure it was left by the killer. He didn’t want Murphy to search for the wrong person.

He searched for another fifteen minutes but came up empty.

Either the guy had stayed to the paved walkway snaking around the grounds or he hadn’t come this way at all.

Nate didn’t want to give up, but after more fruitless searching, he cued his radio. “Any sign of the perp?”

A chorus of negatives echoed from the other officers.

“Let’s call it off.” He didn’t want to but didn’t see the point of continuing a random search. In his gut he felt the killer was long gone, but he’d hoped for something, anything, to go on. “Thanks for your help.”

Several ten-fours echoed from the radio.

Nate and Murphy double-timed it back to the scene of the murders. He slowed to a walk when he came around the Emery house.

Willow was sitting crossways on the passenger seat of his SUV with the door open, still holding Lucy on her lap. He noticed she was wearing soft blue jeans and a thin pink hoodie in deference to the sixty-degree spring day. There were many vehicles parked on the street, so he wasn’t sure if she’d driven over or if she’d arrived via subway or bus. The little girl was wearing a cheerful yellow top with a flared hem over yellow bloodstained leggings. Officer Klein, the uniform who’d stayed behind, remained standing nearby.

“Doggy,” Lucy said, pointing at Murphy. “Big doggy.”

He crossed over to where Willow and Lucy were, dropping to his knees so he was eye level with both Murphy and the little girl. He wondered why the child had been spared. Because she was in another room? Or because the perp drew some invisible line at shooting an innocent child?

“This is Murphy.” He introduced the K-9 again. “Friend, Murphy.” He touched both Willow and Lucy, while repeating, “Friend.”

“Hold out your hand for the doggy to sniff,” Willow encouraged.

Lucy held out her hand, smiling a bit when Murphy’s nose touched her skin. “Nice doggy.”

“Yes, Murphy is a nice dog. He won’t hurt you.”

Willow searched his gaze. “Find anything?”

He shook his head. “I’d like to ask Lucy a few more questions if that’s okay.”

Willow’s light brown eyes looked concerned, but she nodded. “Can’t hurt to try.”

Nate waited until Lucy looked at him, with eyes that were mirror images of Willow’s. If he didn’t know any better, he’d think they were mother and daughter instead of aunt and niece. “Lucy, can you tell me more about the bad clown that wore black?”

Her tiny brow puckered with fear. “Scary,” she whispered.

“I know it was scary,” he agreed with a gentle smile. “But you’re a brave girl, aren’t you? I need you to tell me what the bad clown looked like.”

“Big. Mean.” Lucy scrunched up her face. “Clown face with blue hair on top.” She lifted a hand to her own hair as if to describe what she meant.

Blue hair? His chest tightened at her description. Twenty years ago—today—there had been a double murder in Brooklyn. Two of his colleagues, a brother and a sister, Bradley and Penelope McGregor, then just kids, had lost their parents. Bradley, fourteen, had been at a friend’s house, and four-year-old Penelope, left unharmed like Lucy, had been the only witness. She’d described the killer as a clown—with blue hair. He’d been thinking about the cold case today, as he knew the entire unit was, because of the anniversary. Twenty years unsolved. “You’re sure the hair was blue?”

She bobbed her head. “Blue like my dolly.”

Her dolly? He lifted a brow and glanced up at Willow, who nodded.

“Yes, she has a doll with bright blue hair.”

“Okay, blue hair on the top of the clown face,” he repeated. “Did you notice anything else about him?”

She shook her head. “Too scary.”

He imagined she’d hid her face and hoped that she hadn’t seen her parents being murdered in cold blood. He thought again how odd it was they’d both been shot in the back. As if they’d been heading out of the kitchen, toward the living room. Is that where Lucy had been? Or were they going there for some other reason?

No way to know for sure. The place was a mess, but it was difficult to tell if it had been searched by the killer. After making a mental note to tell the crime scene techs to make the living room a priority when looking for evidence, he turned his attention to the little girl. “What else, Lucy? Were you in the house when he came inside?”

Lucy shook her head, reaching out to pet Murphy’s sleek fur.

“No? Where were you?” Willow asked.

“Outside playing.” Lucy looked over toward the front of the house. “Mommy and Daddy were inside.”

Nate’s gaze sharpened. “He came up the sidewalk and into the fenced-in front yard?”

“Yes. He gived me a toy and told me to stay outside.” Her lower lip trembled, and Nate was concerned she might cry.

“It’s okay, Lucy, you’re safe with us,” Willow said, gently hugging her. “What kind of toy?”

“A monkey.” Lucy’s face crumpled. “I don’t want it anymore.”

A monkey? He sucked in a breath. The McGregors’ killer had also given Penelope a stuffed monkey. What was going on here?

“Are you sure?” he asked hoarsely. “Was it a stuffed monkey?”

Lucy bobbed her head up and down. “I left it outside when I heard the loud noise, but I don’t want it anymore. I want my mommy!”

“Shh, it’s okay. I’m here, Lucy.” Willow cuddled her close.

Nate rocked back on his heels, stunned speechless. The clown face with blue hair on top, two bullet holes in Lucy’s parents and a stuffed monkey.

The exact same MO as the twenty-year-old unsolved McGregor murders. The brutal slaying of the parents of fellow Brooklyn K-9 detective Bradley McGregor and his sister, desk clerk Penelope McGregor.

Down to the very last detail.

The idea that a killer from twenty years ago was still out there concerned him.

They needed to get this guy, and soon. Before anyone else ended up hurt, or worse, dead.

TWO

At first Willow thought Lucy was imagining things. Mean clown with blue hair? Wearing black? Giving her a stuffed monkey and telling her to stay outside? But she vaguely remembered her foot hitting something soft yet crinkly as she crossed the front lawn, and the shock that rippled over Nate Slater’s face was all too real. “What’s wrong? Do you know who did this?”

Nate shook his head, averting his gaze. “No, but we’re going to do our best to find the person responsible.” He turned and smiled gently at Lucy. “You’re very brave, Lucy. Thank you for telling me what you saw.” He stood. “Come, Murphy. Vivienne? Will you and Hank give me a moment?”

“Sure.” The pretty, dark-haired, dark-eyed K-9 cop hurried over and followed as Nate and Murphy headed purposefully to the front of the house, no doubt searching for the stuffed monkey.

Lucy burrowed against Willow. She cuddled the little girl close, knowing her niece was traumatized, and silently promised to make sure Lucy was set up with a child psychologist as soon as possible.

She also hoped the little girl wasn’t in any sort of ongoing danger. Granted, the mean clown had tried to hide his identity, but she couldn’t afford to ignore the possibility that he might return to finish what he’d started.

Nate returned, a small stuffed animal enclosed in what appeared to be two evidence bags. “Lucy, is this the monkey? Did the bad clown give it to you in a bag?”

Lucy lifted her head from Willow’s shoulder and nodded.

He glanced at Vivienne. “This guy is smart, knew enough to minimize the scent by wearing gloves and putting the toy in a bag. Murphy wasn’t able to pick up the scent to track. We can hope to lift prints from the plastic bag surrounding the monkey, but I’m not holding my breath.”

Vivienne grimaced. “Nate, you’d better call Sarge, give him the update.”

“Yeah.” He dropped his tone making it difficult to hear. “Gavin Sutherland is going to take this personally. You know how much he feels responsible for Bradley and Penny McGregor, especially today. It’s not going to be easy to tell them their parents’ killer may be back.” Nate tucked the double-bagged monkey in his pocket and reached for his phone.

Her gaze clung to Nate Slater’s tall, muscular figure as he contacted his boss. She couldn’t help overhearing pieces of his conversation.

“Gavin? Slater here. Listen, this is big. I’ve got two dead victims, parents of a child who survived, and the perp’s MO is exactly like the McGregor case from twenty years ago down to the last detail, including the stuffed monkey.”

Nate fell silent as he listened to his boss.

“I agree, the murderer must have resurfaced again, but why? Where’s he been all this time—”

“Is there anything I can get you?” Vivienne interrupted with a polite smile.

Willow flushed, wondering if the female K-9 officer knew she’d been eavesdropping.

“Yes, I—uh, would like to get some of Lucy’s things, like her clothes and a few favorite toys.”

Vivienne frowned. “I’m sorry, but I don’t think you can take anything out until the crime scene has been processed.” The officer’s gaze sharpened at something over her head. “It appears the ME and crime scene techs are here now.”

Willow turned in time to see two large vehicles. The dark van must belong to the coroner; the other was a white box truck with the NYPD logo that parked directly in front of Detective Slater’s SUV. She watched as a petite blonde with dimples emerged from behind the wheel, crossing over to join them.

“Darcy, this is Willow and Lucy Emery,” Vivienne said by way of introduction. “Darcy Fields is a forensic specialist with NYPD who often responds to our cases.”

Willow nodded a greeting, the names already becoming a jumble in her mind.

Except for Nate Slater. And Murphy.

Nate disconnected from the call and crossed over to rejoin them. “Darcy, after you process the main crime scene, I want you to do a thorough sweep of the living room to see if you can find anything that may be hidden.”

“Hidden in the living room?” Willow asked. “What makes you think that?”

The three of them glanced at her as if they’d forgotten she was there.

“No special reason,” Nate hedged. “Just a hunch.”

“Got it,” Darcy agreed. The bright paisley scarf around her throat was a burst of scarlet against the tan khaki slacks and white blouse. She hurried back to the van and began donning protective gear.

Hunch? About something hidden? Willow realized Nate and Vivienne weren’t going to clue her in as to what their investigation was revealing; it must be against some sort of cop rules. She frowned, thinking over her brief foray into the house. The kitchen had been a disaster, but she’d seen it that way before. The living room had been unusually messy, as well. Two months ago, the last time she’d confronted her brother and his wife about Lucy’s welfare, it had looked much the same.

It hurt to remember how she’d found Lucy hungry and wearing dirty clothes, with little food appropriate for a young child in the house. Alex had quickly sent Debra out to pick up some groceries, then told Willow to mind her own business.

She’d been tempted to report Alex and Debra to Child Protective Services, but decided to give them a chance to do better. To make things right. But as the weeks passed without a response to her many phone calls to Alex, she’d come to face off with them in person. To tell them to voluntarily give her temporary custody of Lucy or she’d notify CPS.

Now they were dead. Dead! It all seemed so surreal. As if this nightmare was happening to someone else, not to her.

Which brought her back to the present. Why was Nate focused on something being hidden in the living room? It didn’t make sense.

As Lucy turned in her lap, reaching out to pet Murphy again, it hit her.

Alex and Debra had been shot in the back, lying facedown just inside the living room. She could almost imagine the shooter being in the kitchen, firing as they were walking, or maybe even running, toward the living room.

Her stomach churned. Had they been trying to get to something they’d hidden for safekeeping? She was thankful that Lucy had been outside when the “bad clown” had killed her parents. But that didn’t prevent her from wishing she had called CPS months ago.

If she had, maybe her brother and his wife would have pulled themselves together, doing the right thing to get Lucy back. Had they been involved in something shady that had gotten them killed? Or was it a random murder?

Anyway, now it was too late. They were gone. And she couldn’t turn back the clock.

“Aunt Willow, I’m hungry.” Lucy’s plaintive tone made her realize how long they’d been outside.

“Okay, hang on, I have some animal crackers with me.” She dug in her oversize shoulder bag, finding the animal-shaped vanilla crackers. She’d purposely brought them along in case there wasn’t any food in the house like last time.

Lucy nibbled on a cracker, her attitude subdued rather than her usual playful self. Willow’s heart ached for the little girl.

“Excuse me.” Willow lifted her hand to get Nate’s or Vivienne’s attention. “How much longer do we need to stay? Am I able to take Lucy home with me?”

Nate and Vivienne exchanged a long glance before Nate nodded. “We need to contact Child Protective Services first to let them know the situation. Where do you live?”

“Bay Ridge.”

His brow levered upward. “That’s where our K-9 headquarters is located.” He glanced at his watch. “Give us a few more minutes. Vivienne, will you get an okay from Child Protective Services on Willow taking Lucy home tonight? Once they approve, I’ll drive Willow and Lucy there.”

“Sure.” Vivienne moved away to use her phone.

“Okay.” Frankly, she wouldn’t mind a ride; the idea of carrying Lucy through the subway wasn’t appealing. She gazed wistfully at her brother’s place. If only she could pick out a few things, like Lucy’s stroller, her clothes and toys, it would be an easier transition for the little girl.

Lucy rested against her, eating another animal cracker. She pressed a kiss to the top of Lucy’s wavy blond hair, reveling in the calming scent of baby shampoo.

Lucy was safe, and that was all that mattered. She had some money saved up. She could buy whatever Lucy needed.

Willow would do everything in her power to keep Lucy in a safe, warm, stable and loving home.

From this moment forward and for the rest of their lives.

Nate’s phone vibrated with an incoming text message. He tore his gaze from Willow and Lucy, pulled the device from his pocket, and read Penelope McGregor’s note.

Today is the 20th anniversary of my parents’ murders. The same MO can’t be a coincidence.

Nate shot a quick message back in return. Don’t worry, we’ll figure it out.

Still reeling from the similarities between the recent Emery double murder and the twenty-year-old McGregor cold case murder of Penny and Bradley’s parents, he mentally reviewed the scene of the crime.

April 14, the exact same date with the same MO, all the way down to the clown face with blue hair and the cheap stuffed monkey. He shivered just thinking about the cold case. Forty-year-old Eddie and Anna McGregor had been killed in their Brooklyn home, each shot at close range. Their son, Bradley, just fourteen, had been at a sleepover at a friend’s house. Daughter Penny, just four years old, had witnessed the murders. To make the case even more heartbreaking, Bradley had been considered a suspect for a long time. His parents had been neglectful, same as the Emerys, and Bradley had been known to fiercely argue with them, particularly as it concerned his little sister. There had been no evidence connecting Bradley to the murders, so he’d been dropped from the suspect list, but the taint had never quite left him. Bradley and Penny had been taken in by the lead detective on the case and his wife, and the dedicated cop had gone to his grave not knowing who’d killed the McGregors.

Nate knew that Bradley—and Penny—wanted to rectify that. Now, suddenly, there was movement on the case, a break. Because another set of parents had died with the remarkably same MO.

The murderer was back after twenty years. Why? And where had he been all this time?

“What did Gavin have to say?” Vivienne asked, interrupting his thoughts.

Gavin had been rattled by the report of the same MO; Nate had heard it in his voice, even if the sarge worked hard to hide it. “He’s worried about how Bradley and Penny are handling the news. Once the media gets wind of it...” He shook his head.

“It won’t be pretty,” Vivienne agreed. She glanced around the crime scene, where a dozen cops and techs were busy processing the evidence. The two EMTs had finally left, with only the coroner’s van and the white crime scene box truck remaining on scene. “CPS agreed to let Willow take temporary custody of Lucy. I’m heading out, unless you need something?”

He was about to say no, but then hesitated. There was one difference between the twenty-year-old case and this current one.

Half of a leather watch band had been found at the scene of the McGregor murders. The DNA had been tested from dead skin cells lifted from the inside of the band, but so far no match in the national crime DNA data bank had been found.

He wondered if there was anything left behind by the murderer in the Emery case, other than the stuffed monkey encased in plastic. He thought about the fenced-in backyard. He’d been so focused on finding the gunman and then the monkey that he hadn’t searched closely for clues.

“Stay here next to Willow and Lucy for a few minutes, would you?” He shortened up Murphy’s leash. “Come, Murphy.”

“Where are you going?” Willow’s terse question caught him off guard.

“I’ll be back shortly.” He flashed a reassuring grin. “I’ll take you and Lucy home after I check something out.”

Her smile was sad. “Okay.”

He understood she wanted to get Lucy out of here, so he quickened his pace. When he’d rounded the backyard earlier in an effort to follow the path the perp may have taken, he hadn’t bothered searching for clues. The crime scene techs would be very thorough, but he still wanted to go back to check the ground beyond the house for himself.

Retracing his steps, he closely examined the ground on the other side of the fence, searching for evidence. Footprints, or something the perp may have dropped.

Unfortunately, the backyard butted right up against the road, no soft ground to reveal a footprint similar to what he’d found in the cemetery. He broadened his search outside the property, but still came up empty-handed.

Unless the techs found some kind of DNA evidence inside, they’d have nothing to use as a match for what had been identified on the leather watch band.

Disappointed, he turned back to the Emery crime scene. “Murphy, heel.”

The yellow Lab obediently sat at his left side.

“Good boy.” He bent over to scratch Murphy behind the ears, then hurried back to where Willow and Lucy waited next to Vivienne.

“I was just explaining to Willow that a caseworker by the name of Jayne Hendricks will be following up either tomorrow or Tuesday.” Vivienne smiled gently. “I’m sure everything will be fine.”

Willow nodded. “Okay.”

“Ready to go?” he asked.

“Yes, thank you.” Willow glanced down at Lucy. “Except I just realized we’ll need a child safety seat for your vehicle.”

He frowned, understanding her concern. “I’ll run and grab one. Vivienne, will you and Hank keep watch?”

“Sure.”

As he ran the errand, he thought about Willow and Lucy. There was something vulnerable yet strong about them. As if it was the two of them against the world.

It reminded him of how close he and his mother once were. When he was younger, it had been the two of them against the world, too.

When he returned, he opened the box and pulled out the car seat. Willow took it from him and expertly placed it in the back seat of his SUV.

Nate looked at the petite little girl, noticing again that her yellow outfit carried several dark smears of blood. He’d need to take her clothing in as evidence, which meant she’d need replacements.

“Why don’t we stop and pick up a few more things along the way?” he offered. With the traffic, the drive between East Flatbush and Bay Ridge would take a good forty-five minutes. “There’s a department store not too far from here.”

“Thank you. That would be great.”

He wasn’t sure why he’d offered to take her home; he wasn’t exactly the family kind of guy. Yet it was on the way to the K-9 Unit headquarters, so he told himself it was the decent thing to do.

Willow gently set Lucy in the car seat, while he put Murphy in the back K-9 crate area. Using the rearview mirror, he kept an eye on Lucy as he navigated the traffic toward Bay Ridge.

“Detective Slater?”

He glanced at Willow. “Sounds so formal. Why don’t you call me Nate?”

“Um, okay, Nate.” She cleared her throat. “I know you can’t give me details about the investigation, but I’d like to be kept informed of your progress. I—need to know the person who killed my brother will be punished. No matter what my brother did—” She stopped and swallowed hard before continuing. “He and Debra didn’t deserve to be murdered in their home.”

“I can’t make any promises,” he cautioned. “But I’ll do my best to keep you updated on the case.” Considering the similarities between the Emery murders and the twenty-year-old McGregor case, he felt certain Gavin would fight hard to keep the newly established Brooklyn K-9 Unit on the case.

He’d been the first officer on the scene and wanted, needed, to see it through to the end.

“Thank you.” Willow ran her fingers through her long straight brown hair. “I still can’t believe this happened.”

“Was your brother expecting your visit?” He glanced at Willow.

She winced and shook her head. “No, unfortunately he was ignoring my calls. Debra, too. This was my first day off in two weeks, so I decided to confront them face-to-face.”

“About what?”

She hesitated, then waved a hand. “You saw the place. Empty liquor bottles, dirty dishes piled up to the cabinets and hardly any decent food. Is that a good environment for a child? I knew Lucy wasn’t exactly a planned addition to their family, but I thought they’d settle down, do the right thing.” She let out a heavy sigh. “They didn’t.”

He nodded thoughtfully. Her brother’s lifestyle may have made it easier for a stranger to get into their house. Maybe someone who’d confronted them, then fired his weapon as they ran away. But why? That was the nagging question.

If the killer was the same murderer from twenty years ago, he couldn’t figure out why they’d struck again, all these years later.

“Oh, there’s the store.” Willow gestured toward her side of the road.

He’d almost forgotten his promise. He quickly maneuvered over to the right lane, then pulled into the parking lot. The moment he stopped the car, Willow pushed out of her passenger seat and opened the back door to get Lucy from the car seat.

He fetched Murphy, unwilling to leave him in the car, and easily caught up to her. It felt strange to walk into the store with Willow and Lucy. He’d never dated a single mother, or any woman who wanted to settle down. He was keenly aware of the smiles aimed in their direction, as if they were a happy little family.

Maybe because his blond hair was similar to Lucy’s, not to mention, Lucy had Willow’s cinnamon-brown eyes.

He found himself putting distance between them, instinctively shying away from being associated with the role of husband and father. That was a path he’d never take.

Not with his history.

Willow lifted Lucy into the seat of a shopping cart, then whizzed through the aisles, picking out clothes, a stroller and toys. Then she added groceries before heading over to the checkout lane.

“I’m sure you’ll be able to get some things from the house once the scene has been processed,” he reminded her.

“I know, but these are essentials.” The total was staggering, but she didn’t blink as she paid the bill.

He stored most of the items in the back seat while Willow lifted Lucy up and buckled her in.

“Ready?” He glanced at Willow.

For the first time since he’d met her, she offered a genuine smile. The way her entire face brightened made his mouth go dry. Willow was incredibly beautiful, tall and slender like a model might be. “Yes, thank you.”

Inwardly shaking his head at his foolishness, he started the SUV. Pulling back into traffic, he decided not to mention that he’d need Lucy’s bloodstained clothes as evidence until after they’d reached her apartment. “What’s your address?”

She rattled it off and he recognized it as a prewar redbrick apartment building, not far from where their headquarters was located.

“Nice,” he said. “A two-bedroom place?”

“No, just one.” She glanced back at Lucy and shrugged. “It will have to do for now.”

He was curious as to what her job was that allowed her to afford even a one-bedroom in the nice neighborhood, but told himself it wasn’t his business. His own single-bedroom apartment had been his mother’s, one that he’d inherited after she died. Conveniently located on the ground floor, there was a small yard for Murphy.

Thinking about his mother, and how far they’d come after leaving his abusive father, wasn’t helpful. He needed to stay focused on the case at hand, not the disturbing memories of his past.

When he reached her apartment building, she looked at him with uncertainty in her gaze. “Thanks. The killer hid his identity. There’s no reason for him to come after us, right? After all, Lucy can’t identify him, and I never saw him at all.”

He threw the gearshift in Park. “Yes, I wouldn’t leave you otherwise. But I’ll arrange for a squad car to drive by hourly, just to be extra cautious. Come on, I’ll carry your things up for you.”

She gave a nod, then slid out of the seat. She set Lucy on her feet, then grabbed the bag of new clothes with one hand and clung to Lucy’s tiny fingers with the other. He let Murphy out of the back, then hauled everything else as he followed her and Lucy inside. There was no key to get into the lobby, making him frown. But the lobby was nice, newly renovated with black-and-white tile floors.

“I’m on the seventh floor.” She pushed the elevator button and stepped back.

Lucy looked around with wide, curious eyes. Then she lightly stroked Murphy. “Can the doggy stay wif us?”

“No, sweetie, he lives with Detective Nate.”

It was on the tip of his tongue to offer to bring Murphy for a visit, but he caught himself in the nick of time.

When the elevator opened, Willow led the way to her apartment, number 706. She had her key but didn’t use it. She came to an abrupt stop, then gingerly pushed the door open. He heard her gasp. “Oh no!”

“What is it?” He peered over her shoulder and instantly saw what was wrong.

Willow’s apartment had been thoroughly and completely ransacked.

THREE

Her mouth went desert dry and her heart thudded painfully in her chest. She stared at the horrific invasion of her privacy.

Never in her entire life had she felt so violated.

“Stay back—let me check it out.” Nate hastily piled the items he’d carried in just outside her apartment door, then gently nudged her and Lucy aside and pulled his weapon. Watching as he and Murphy crossed the threshold had her sending up another silent, desperate prayer.

Please, Lord, keep us all safe!

“Aunt Willow, you’re messy like Mommy and Daddy,” Lucy said, breaking into her thoughts.

The reminder of how much worse things could be helped calm her racing heart. She forced a smile, relieved that Lucy hadn’t picked up on the sinister nature of their situation. “Yes, it sure looks that way.”

“I’m hungry,” Lucy complained.

Food wasn’t even close to the top of her list, but she knew Lucy needed to eat dinner, especially since she highly doubted the little girl had eaten anything substantial for lunch. The burn of resentment hit hard, but she pushed it away. Alex and Debra were gone. Dead. Despite their neglect of Lucy, they certainly didn’t deserve to be murdered.

Was it possible the same person who’d killed them had done this to her apartment? If so, why? Had they been searching for something? The same thing they hadn’t found at Alex and Debra’s?

She suppressed a shiver.

Glancing again at the mess, she swallowed hard. It was very tempting to ask Nate to drive her and Lucy to the nearest hotel. Especially considering the handle on her apartment door was broken.

“There’s no one inside,” Nate informed her. “I’ll call for a team to respond, although it seems unlikely we’ll be able to lift any fingerprints. Whoever did this was likely smart enough to wear gloves.”

The idea of more strangers invading her small apartment was unsettling. “Okay.”

Nate’s expression softened. “I’m sorry. I know you’ve already been through a lot. Whoever did this made a huge mess, but thankfully there isn’t a lot of actual damage.” He looked at her thoughtfully for a moment. “It seems the person responsible spent a lot of time going through your closet and dresser drawers as if searching for something.”

The chill returned. “You think this is related to what happened to Alex and Debra?”

“Maybe, but I’m not convinced. You said yourself, your brother and sister-in-law weren’t expecting you to visit. Then again, the timing is a strange coincidence.” He frowned, thinking it through, then glanced at his watch. “The patrol officers should be here soon. Oh, and I’m sorry, but I need Lucy’s bloodstained clothes for evidence.”

She nodded, suppressing a shiver. Borrowing gloves from Nate, she carefully took the little girl’s yellow outfit off, gingerly handing it to Nate, who placed it in an evidence bag. Stripping the gloves off, she dressed Lucy in a new pink outfit she’d purchased from the store. Sitting back against the wall, she wished she’d bought more snacks for Lucy. At this rate, the poor child would never get her dinner. She felt bad, as if she were no better at caring for Lucy than Alex and Debra had been.

The two officers arrived five minutes later. They disappeared inside her apartment with Nate and Murphy. Frustrated and exhausted, Willow sat on the floor in the hallway just outside her apartment next to Lucy. She pulled the baby doll she’d purchased at the store out of one of the bags and gave it to her niece. Together, they played with the doll, Willow doing whatever she could think of to keep the little girl occupied.

But she couldn’t forget how her apartment had been thoroughly searched. Or the way her brother and his wife had been brutally murdered.

The fingerprint crew showed up a few minutes later, and it took them over an hour to check the various surfaces for prints.

“Willow?” Nate came out and hunkered down beside her. “We’ll need your prints so we can exclude them from anything we may have found. The place was really very clean. There weren’t many prints at all.”

“Okay.” She shifted Lucy off her lap. As she was about to stand, Nate held out his hand to her. After a moment’s hesitation, she put her hand in his and allowed him to draw her upright. His warm palm was strangely reassuring. She wanted to cling to his strength but forced herself to let go.

“Thanks.” She inwardly grimaced at her breathless tone. She really needed to get a hold of herself. This weird attraction she felt toward the K-9 cop was not healthy. She didn’t have time for such nonsense.

Lucy was the only thing that mattered right now. Not her dearth of a love life. The little girl deserved a stable, loving home and Willow planned to do whatever it took to provide that for her.

Once she’d been fingerprinted, the crime scene techs took off, leaving a mess of black fingerprint powder covering numerous surfaces behind.

Crazy to have spent the hour after Sunday services cleaning prior to heading over to confront her brother about Lucy. She’d need to clean, again.

“Here, let’s get your stuff inside.” Nate bent down to gather her bags. “We’ll leave the car seat here for now. I’ll need you to tell me if anything has been stolen.”

Feeling nervous, she followed him into the apartment. The two officers who’d initially responded were standing off in the corner of her living room, speaking in low tones. Murphy brushed against her legs and she was oddly reassured when the animal stayed close.

She wiped the kitchen counter, then began unpacking the groceries. Nate went over to speak with the two officers. The task of putting her apartment back together seemed overwhelming, but what choice did she have? She was emotionally and physically exhausted. The last thing she wanted to do was pack up and move to a hotel. But staying here with a broken door handle wasn’t a very good idea, either.

The two officers headed out of the apartment. She must have looked upset, because Nate crossed over to put a reassuring hand on her shoulder.

“They’re not leaving, I just want them to check the video cameras for any footage of the person who did this.”

“Oh.” She tried to offer a smile. “That would be good, right? Then we’d know who murdered Alex and Debra.”

“Only if these two crimes are linked,” Nate cautioned. “Listen, I want to look around again and then will likely have some questions for you.”

“Okay, but I need to feed Lucy something for dinner. She needs something more substantial than animal crackers in her belly.”

“Understood.” He gave her shoulder a reassuring squeeze, then moved away. She instantly missed the warmth of his touch.

She reminded herself that the men in her life didn’t stick around. She’d dated a few, only to have them quickly disappear. Either because she wasn’t very exciting or because she worked too many hours, or both.

Once the pizza was in the oven, she quickly wiped down the small kitchen table so Lucy would have a place to sit, then replaced her sofa cushions. She couldn’t comprehend why anyone would be looking for something of Alex’s in her apartment. Especially since she and Alex hadn’t been close in a very long time.

Since before the death of their grandmother, three years ago, right after Lucy was born. They’d each received a modest inheritance; she’d invested hers in this apartment. When Alex and Debra had moved into their two-story, she’d praised him for putting his money to good use, only to have him laugh at her, carelessly announcing they were just renting the cheap place and living off the money and enjoying life. Despite having Lucy, Debra made it clear she wasn’t interested in settling down.

Watching as Lucy played with her new baby doll, Willow tried to find the forgiveness in her heart that she knew God expected of her. Alex and Debra had gone down a bad path and unfortunately had paid the ultimate price.

Deep down, she knew they hadn’t intentionally neglected Lucy. Despite Alex’s being two years her senior, he was immature and irresponsible.

“Willow?”

Nate’s deep voice startled her. “Yes?”

“Do you have a minute?”

“Sure.” She peeked at the pizza through the glass oven door before hurrying to her master bedroom. “What is it?”

He gestured to a small slip of paper lying on the floor tucked beneath the open closet door. “That appears to be a cash receipt for gas. Is it yours?”

“Gas?” She dropped to her knees to see the receipt more clearly. “No.” She glanced up at him. “I don’t own a car. Why would I buy gas?”

“Yeah, that’s what I thought.” He pulled an evidence bag from the pocket of his uniform and used the plastic bag to cover his fingers as he carefully picked the receipt off the floor. The gas had been paid for with cash, and the identifying number across the top was smudged, but he thought Eden might be able to find the station. Maybe they’d discover there were cameras nearby.

Then he had another idea. After he had the slip of paper tucked inside the evidence bag, he called Murphy over and opened the bag for the K-9. “Seek, Murphy.”

The yellow Lab buried his nose in the evidence bag, sniffing for what seemed like an inordinate amount of time.

“Seek,” Nate repeated in a commanding tone.

Murphy put his snout to the floor and sniffed, breaking into a lope as he tracked the scent across the hardwood floor of her bedroom, through the doorway into the open-concept kitchen and living area. Then the dog headed for the door.

“Wait. Are you leaving us here alone?” She couldn’t hide the underlying panic in her tone.

“No. Heel, Murphy.” He paused and used his radio to call the two officers. “I need one or both of you to return to the apartment.”

“Ten-four. We’re on our way. The video isn’t helpful anyway.”

Once again, she tried to tell herself that the two cops were just as capable of protecting her and Lucy as Nate and Murphy.

But when they arrived and Nate took off with Murphy, she couldn’t help feeling starkly alone.

Pumped with adrenaline at finally having a solid clue, Nate followed Murphy as the dog tracked the scent of the intruder down the hall toward the elevator. His partner made several twists and turns, but then pressed his nose against the narrow crack between the floor and the closed elevator doors.

Murphy stayed there for a long moment, then made a circle in front of the elevator, returning to the closed doors for the second time. He sat, then gazed up at Nate with what he perceived as an imploring gaze.

“It’s okay, boy. We’re going to get him.” Nate quickly clipped Murphy’s leash to his collar, then pushed the button to summon the elevators. The one on the right opened first, and he held the door open. “Seek, Murphy.”

The dog put his nose to the ground and took his time, but never alerted. Nate squelched a flash of concern. He decided since there were only two elevators, he’d head down to the lobby to see if Murphy could pick up the scent there.

Once they were in the lobby, it took another several minutes of sniffing and searching for Murphy to pick up the scent, near the second elevator. “Good boy,” he praised, giving Murphy a good rub. “Seek!”

His partner gamely went back to work, sniffing and alerting again near the doorway heading outside. Nate knew that once they were out in the elements the scent may be more difficult to track. About a year and a half ago, the NYC K-9 Command Unit in Queens had been gifted a Labrador retriever named Stella from the Czech Republic. Stella had delivered eight puppies shortly upon her arrival to the US. Stella currently worked as a bomb-sniffing dog, and several of her puppies had turned into equally talented K-9 cops. Murphy was one of Stella’s pups, earning a reputation for being one of the best trackers their Brooklyn unit had working for them. Still, there were a lot of people walking around, moving up and down the sidewalks, back and forth from subways and other buildings. Murphy was good, but it wouldn’t be easy to pick out one specific scent against all others.

“Heel.” He waited for Murphy to sit at his side before offering the evidence bag again. This time, he pulled out the orange ball he carried with him. Like most of their K-9s, Murphy was trained with a reward system that involved playing. Murphy’s tail wagged with excitement when he saw the ball, and he quickly sniffed at the evidence bag, eager to get to work.

“Seek, Murphy.” Nate slipped the ball back into his pocket.

Murphy put his nose to the ground, going back and forth as he searched for the scent. Nate stayed close, keeping the leash short so that they wouldn’t trip any of the pedestrians passing by.

Murphy picked up the scent a few minutes later, alerting near the corner of the apartment building. Nate could imagine the guy pausing there for a moment, sweeping his gaze over the area to see if anyone noticed him.

“Good boy,” he praised again. “Seek.”

Murphy put his nose back to the sidewalk and took off in an eastern direction, which made sense as Bay Ridge overlooked the upper and lower bays of the Atlantic Ocean and connected to Staten Island via the Verrazzano-Narrows Bridge to the west.

Murphy took a winding path as he tracked the perp’s scent. His K-9 paused at the intersection, then alerted again, staring north.

When the light changed, they crossed the street and Murphy picked up the scent once again. As they approached the entrance to the subway, Nate’s hopes deflated. If the perp had taken one of the trains, they’d never find him. Sure, there were cameras, but he didn’t have a clue who they were looking for or even a time frame of the vandalism.

Thankfully, Murphy alerted at the next intersection, too. Trying to quell the sense of excitement, Nate glanced around, taking note of their surroundings. There was a single long building housing a few shops and small restaurants with apartments located up above.

Was Murphy still on point? He trusted his K-9, but the streets were busy, and he knew the endless multitude of scents, from people, food and the ocean, could be confusing.

His stomach rumbled with hunger as he caught a whiff of hamburger grease, followed closely by the scent of hot dogs. He and Murphy crossed the street, and soon his partner once again alerted, indicating he’d picked up the scent.

“Good boy!” Nate knew he’d have to throw the ball for a long time once they were finished. The K-9 deserved a nice reward.

His partner alerted again, and then kept going, making Nate break into a jog to keep up. For whatever reason, it seemed the scent Murphy was following was stronger here. They turned right at the next corner, then Murphy abruptly came to a halt right outside the door to a small restaurant. The animal stared straight ahead as if he could see through the glass door to the inside where his potential quarry may be hiding in wait.

Nate took a step back to get a better look at the building. The sign above the door was done in bright red against a white background.

The Burgerteria.

In smaller letters beneath were the words Gourmet Burgers Served Daily.

Unfortunately, the place was closed for the day. Peering at the sign, it appeared the burger place closed early on Sundays, at 5:00 p.m. rather than the usual 11 p.m. on weekdays and midnight on Fridays and Saturdays.

Murphy continued sitting and staring at the door, his nostrils quivering. Nate stepped up beside him and cupped his hands around his face so he could see inside without the glare from the light.

The place was empty and amazingly clean. There were several small square tables surrounded by four chairs as well as a long counter against the farthest wall.

He tried to imagine why the perp had come here so soon after ransacking Willow’s apartment. Simply because he was hungry?

No, more likely because he was meeting someone. Maybe the perp had been paid to do the job by someone else. Nate couldn’t imagine why the same person who’d searched Willow’s apartment would want her brother and sister-in-law dead. Murder was a far cry from simple burglary.

Other than the timing, there was nothing else to indicate the two crimes were related. Especially considering the Emery murders had followed the same MO as the twenty-year-old McGregor murders, which he knew had hung like a black cloud over Bradley and Penny McGregor.

His gut told him these two events couldn’t possibly be connected. As he was about to turn away, he saw a flash of movement out of the corner of his eye.

Someone was still inside!

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