Page 13 of Little Twisted Things

New York City

“Who made the coffee?” I shouted across the department. “It tastes like shit.”

Elijah chuckled as he leaned back in his chair, one boot resting on the corner of his desk, eating a blueberry muffin.

“You’re getting crumbs all over your desk,” I said.

“Don’t nitpick me because the coffee tastes like shit.” He bit into his muffin.

While I was looking over a case file, my cell phone vibrated, and suddenly, my mood got worse.

“Wow. Why is the Florida detective, aka your ex, calling?” Elijah asked.

“I have no fucking idea.” I picked up my phone and brought it to my ear. “What?”

“You always did know how to make a guy feel welcomed,” he said.

“Luke, why are you calling me?”

“I’ve got a homicide that may interest you.”

“I’m in New York. Whatever happens in Florida isn’t my concern anymore.”

“Trust me. I know where you are.”

“Then why are you calling me about a case? I’m not consulting.”

“Well, you might change your mind when you hear what I have to say.”

I rolled my eyes. “I doubt it.”

“Just hear me out. Victim’s name is Kevin Hadley. He was a history professor at Florida Keys University. His cause of death—are you ready?”

“Spit it out, Luke. I don’t have all day.”

“Twenty-two stab wounds.”

I jumped up from my chair.

“What?”

“You heard me. Twenty-two stab wounds. Family man. Wife. Three daughters. And judging by the text messages we read after unlocking his phone, he was having an affair.”

My eyes widened as I glanced at Elijah.

“What?” Elijah whispered.

“I remember the cases you were working on in New York. The cheating husband murders. But here’s the thing. The body was found posed under the same tree as a young woman who was murdered two weeks ago.”

“Posed?” I asked.

“Yes. I didn’t say anything because the others think the cases of the young girl and our history professor are connected. But I don’t think they are. I think whoever murdered the history professor wanted to make it look like it was the same killer.”

“I’m coming down there.”

“Figured you would. I’ll see you when you get here.”

“What the hell is going on?” Elijah asked as I ended the call.