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CHAPTER 1

CHAPTER 1

Billy knew, as soon as he hung up the phone, a familiar knot in his stomach, that Isabella was the only detective to call for a case like this. As the smartest detective in his Special Victims Unit, Isabella’s edge was her skill in handling women. As a woman herself she had an advantage, but she had taken that edge and honed it by handling the unit’s most sensitive scenarios. That skill would come in handy here—country club set, tony town, mother of two daughters—a lot of women to handle.

At thirty-seven, Isabella was one of the youngest female detectives in the country. A twelve-year member of the police force, she had made a name for herself participating in one sting after another. With her stunning Irish looks—long, wavy strawberry blond hair, big green eyes, freckles dotting her small, delicate nose, and a killer body to boot—she looked like anything but a detective. The Master’s in Forensic Psychology she earned from John Jay at night hadn’t hurt her career either. So when his precinct opened a dedicated unit for special victims—the first of its kind in the country for women and children sexually attacked and/or killed—one of the first names Billy thought of was Isabella.

Billy had met her once before and knew her reputation when he contacted her. Three months later her transfer was complete. As with most others, her beauty blinded him a bit. His only worry was whether the guys in his place could work with her. He hoped her track record would give her the credibility she would need with them, and made sure they all knew her reputation and her latest achievement when she arrived—solving the murder of a city councilman’s daughter, a girl found dead in a crack house in East Harlem.

“She’s too good-looking to ever be taken for a cop, and she knows how to use it to advantage,” Billy confided to his superiors. “A lethal combination.”

In the five years since she had joined the unit he had grown to love her like a daughter. She had come into his precinct willing to do whatever was needed. She worked harder than most of his guys, spending hours poring over endless paperwork. She could read and interpret a psych report, knew forensics, interrogated like a pit bull, and could work both sides, aggressive with a suspect, sensitive and solicitous with a victim. She went home later than everyone, didn’t need to take credit, and took on whatever assignment was thrown at her. He didn’t know what drove her, but driven she was. It was hard not to love her.

He had wanted to partner her up and tried out a few guys but, as most were single, divorced, or going through a breakup, it inevitably turned incendiary, on their end, not hers. Hell, even he—happily married for thirty years—would be hard pressed to concentrate with her in the car. So she worked alone most of the time. Something she didn’t seem to mind.

This case was different though—she was not going to have the luxury of time here. There would be eyes all over it, everyone breathing down her neck. It could spiral down fast and bring his buddy Dennis’s career with it.

Billy picked up the phone and called her. She answered on the first ring.

“This better be good,” she greeted him sleepily.

“It’s better than good. I need you down here right away.”

“Or else?”

“No joke, Bella. Wife of a hedge fund guy. Mother of two. Sexually assaulted and killed. In Greenavle. I’ll explain the rest when you get here. Just get your ass in the car and get over here. Now.”

Billy hung up the phone and thought about sending Bella up to Greenvale. He needed to give her a partner on this one. The only issue was who to give her. Menendez had popped into his mind. A bit tricky maybe, but his gut told him it just might work. After pondering its wisdom a few moments, he picked up the phone and dialed a number from memory. Leaning back in his chair he swiveled around to glance at the rain pouring down. Only 4:20 in the fucking morning. A real dreary day. A real dreary life. He heard Mack’s voice on the other end.

“Rise and shine, sunshine, it’s your morning glory.”

Billy broke into a grin.

“Well, that’s about to change, my friend. Get your ass in the car and get down to the precinct. Now. Right now. There’s someone I want you to meet.”

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