Serial Games (Virginia Justice Book One) by K. Victoria Chase Page A

of furniture. An old, hunter green barber-like chair with metal armrests, in the center of the room.
    “I take it that’s where…”
    “Yeah.”
    Brandon walked over to the chair and fingered the edges of an oval-shaped piece missing from the back of the backrest. Maggie recalled collecting that segment of the chair, the only spot where trace evidence was recovered. A few drops of blood, skin cells, and fibers from Sally Mayes. She had wanted to bag the whole chair for the trial, but the prosecuting DA decided against it. He worried the defense attorney would have drafted a motion claiming the chair would cause undue prejudice on his client. Considering Burrows was indicted for nine counts of felony murder without the bodies, the less hassle the better chance for a conviction.
    Maggie flashed her light behind the chair toward a worn bookcase. She fingered the books, noticing the old wrapped binders, and recognizing the names of classics such as Robinson Caruso, Great Expectations , and Moby Dick . “He has a few classics here that are first editions.”
    “Wow.”
    “Yes, very valuable.” Her fingers touched a large book she didn’t recognize. She drew a finger down its spine, and felt the curves of what reminded her of a three-ring binder. The leather looked new, not as tattered as the other books on the shelf.
    “What’s that sound?”
    She turned away from the book and concentrated. Past Brandon’s breathing was the unmistakable sound of liquid dripping. “It’s a leak of some sort.”
    “Do any pipes run down here?”
    “Just those belonging to the main parts of the house, including the washer and dryer.”
    Brandon raised his eyes to the ceiling and shone his light around in search of the leak. Maggie inhaled deeply and fought back a cough at the stench. She was done. “If you are finished enjoying the spook show, I’d like to get out of here.”
    “You’re the consultant. I’ll follow your lead.” His voice held a level of professionalism she hadn’t heard him use with her.
    Whenever she met new people, Maggie had to fight from putting on her profiler hat and deducing whatever she could about the person. Now an even greater reason existed. She felt an immediate physical attraction to Brandon. His easy rapport with her threw her for a loop, but she recovered. They would be spending a lot of time together — in close proximity — over the next several days or however long it took to apprehend Burrows.
    She needed to stay focused.
    If she failed to arrest Burrows this time, her skills as a profiler would come under serious scrutiny. With her quick promotion to profiler team lead after Burrows’s initial capture, Maggie worried she wasn’t up to par with Bureau standards. She didn’t want any distractions drawing away the energy she needed to remain confident in her abilities. Even if he did come in a classically handsome package, complete with brawns and a gun.
     
    ****
     
    “Well, that didn’t take long,” Brandon stated as they exited the Burrowses’ house. He watched a silent Maggie as she kept her head down, a frown on her lovely face. In the last five minutes, Maggie had completely shut down. She had breezed through the rest of the tiny bedrooms in a manner quite the opposite from her review of the custody bus. This worried him as he watched her walk quickly around the car, hop inside, and shut the door with a bang. Brandon stood at the closed driver door. He sighed as he opened it.
    Brandon climbed in and then softly shut the door. He slipped the keys into the ignition but didn’t turn them.
    “Why aren’t we moving?” came her clipped voice.
    Brandon turned toward her, and unlatched her seat belt. He had to suppress a grin when she jumped, startled at his action.
    “What are you doing?” Her eyes widened.
    Brandon took a moment to read them. She trembled slightly at his scrutiny, but her stare did not relent. Brandon’s eyes strayed down to see her hand clutched the seat belt.