A Small Degree of Hope. Lyndi Alexander

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      Griff’s warning about preventing further damage to females—not women—could be sociopathic distancing, a dehumanization of his victims. Perhaps that made it easier to conduct his gruesome experiments.

      An icicle slid down her spine. She shivered. The fact this bastard understood how long it took to convert a woman to a full reptile sickened her.

       None have succeeded. Not yet.

      And what in all the lower hells did that mean? Besides, he apparently intended to keep trying. Perhaps eight vics was only the beginning, and they simply hadn’t found the others yet.

       Suspect gave his name only as “Griff.” No surname or other identifying data. Suspect claims to be homeless, and that his family has “cast him out.”

       Suspect approximately two meters tall, muscular build, thick shoulders. Long forearms. Black hair, light skinned, no remarkable tattoos or other skin markings. Age indeterminate; estimated at thirty. Eye color of note, a striking yellow similar to that of some of the altered victims.

      “Sanderson, front and center!” Jaco’s booming voice echoed inside her tender head.

      She hit enter to save her work before she stood. “What do you want?”

      Chest puffed out, he marched across the room. “Do I understand that you received new information in our case from some unknown guy at a bar, and you didn’t bring him in for interrogation?”

      “I-I, um…”

      He came close to scan the screen behind her. “So it’s true. You have a suspect. Or had. What happened? How’d he get away from you? Kramist said the guy practically had you in his lap.”

      The rough edge in his voice might have emerged due to his aggravation over losing a suspect. It sounded more like a streak of sharp jealousy.

      “Kramist couldn’t find his head if it disappeared up his own ass. But yes. He had an inordinate amount of information about what’s happening to our vics. I’m going to test his theories at the morgue in the morning. I came back to enter a BOLO. Just in case someone comes across him. He knew too much not to be involved.”

      “And where is he?”

      “He jumped out of my car before I could finish interrogating him.”

      His face went to red. “In your car?”

      “Right, sir. Because Kramist and the rest had eyes and ears on everything. As you apparently heard. I wanted a private place to talk. He refused to come here, so I took the chance to question him in private.” She stood straighter, glad her boots had heels. “Our discussion provided valuable insights, sir. We’ll get him again. I’m sure of it.”

      Inside her head, his words echoed, I’ll find you. If he’d tracked her down once, he’d locate her again. These serial murderers liked to pad their egos. He’d relish an opportunity to brag.

      Jaco looked like he wanted to burst, then scowled at the screen. “Well, get it out! He’s probably halfway to Haidar already.”

      “Yes, sir.” She didn’t mind his tone so much. He always used it with everyone. The one that said, don’t ignore the short man in front of you, because he’s a real lion in his own mind. She sat down again and reviewed what she’d written, added her name, contact information, the Cendiary’s address and sent it out.

      Jaco stared at her, then growled at the world in general and tossed a stapled batch of papers at the staring men with their jaws hanging open. “Get to work! I want out of this subdivision by the end of the week.” He stomped back to his cubby.

      Pax Loring watched Kylie with wide eyes. “Really? You had the perp, with you, in your car? Man, he could have eaten your ears off.”

      “Pax, I had my gun. I just didn’t want to let him get away without telling me what he knew.”

      The other men scoffed at Pax and gave her a few jabs about losing him, but she wasn’t disheartened. Plenty of time to play the hero once they caught him.

      And she would catch the bastard.

       Chapter 4

      The next morning, she let herself sleep an hour after sunrise. She deserved it. Besides, the later she started another long session on her feet, tracking the cause of the lizard mutation, the better.

      At least she had some direction.

      Grateful for a few hours of good sleep, she woke refreshed. The room filled with the aroma of brewing stimcoff, its added boosters something she definitely craved this morning. Her shower ran long, the head adjusted to pulsating massage, the water super-hot. The ripe havafruit smell of the wash solution she used on her hair filled the shower stall, buoying her spirits. She threw on a worn jersey shirt and denim slacks, simple gold earrings and a sports cap over ponytailed hair. No point in dressing fancy when she’d spend the rest of the day in that damn sweaty suit. Better to be comfortable.

      Mother would faint dead away.

      The thought gave her a small chuckle as she headed out to her car. Her amusement faded when she checked her comm. Her mother Amaranta left three messages the night before. The Colonel wanted to see her.

      At twenty-six, Kylie was no longer subject to parental demands, but William Sanderson didn’t bear defiance. He ran his business—and his family—like a dictatorship. Living under his thumb in their luxurious home, with its servants and special privileges had taught her survival skills that served her at SIRT. Very few people had the power to intimidate her. Only the Colonel’s icy blue stare still shook her foundation. She did her best not to let him see it. Most of the time she just tried to stay away.

      He’d just have to understand. She was just too busy with this case now. Stick-to-it-iveness. Laying that Sanderson work ethic on the line.

      Her excuse wouldn’t hold him off for long.

      When she opened the car door, a pleasant smell of baked, dry earth triggered memories of her interview with Griff in front of Hawthorn’s. What an odd scent. She sniffed again.

      Next time she saw that creeper, she’d take him down.

      Dr. Astrid awaited her at the morgue. After suiting up, Kylie joined her. “I’m sorry I didn’t message you last night, Sonya, but I found someone who understands what’s happening.”

      Dr. Astrid looked over her shoulder at the door. “Did you bring them with you?”

      Kylie caught her breath. “Ah, no. He got away. But let me tell you what he said.”

      While they cut and stored samples of the women’s skin, hair and fingernails, Kylie laid out Griff’s explanations. The doctor slowly put down her instruments and just stared when the issue of the retrovirus came up. “So we were right. I mean, if what this man said is true.”

      “It certainly sounded sincere.”

      “So we need to set up direct focus assays of the cell lines to see if we detect any retrovirus particles.” The doctor СКАЧАТЬ