The Kill by Allison Brennan

this killer.” A tickle of guilt flitted down her spine. She was withholding information from him, but not about the case.
    He pulled out a chair and sat heavily, pulling a stack of files toward him. He stared at her, seeming to weigh her words. His scrutiny made her uncomfortable, but she held firm. Zack Travis was the type of cop who would see right through her if she even
thought
about lowering her shields.
    “I’m glad that we could come to an agreement,” he finally said, without directly responding to her comments. “Our department wants to find this guy just as bad as your agency.”
    Olivia nodded.
No you don’t. No one wants this guy more than I do
.
    Zack noticed an odd look cross Agent St. Martin’s face, something he recognized but couldn’t put a name to. She straightened her back, which didn’t do much for her overall height. She was petite, trim, with an hourglass figure under an expensive suit.
    As he stared, she tightened her jaw. He almost missed her biting the inside of her cheek, and for a brief moment she looked haunted. But he blinked and whatever he thought he saw had disappeared, and she simply looked like someone used to being in charge.
    Zack said, “Do you have a first name? Or should I just call you Superagent?”
    He liked the way she bristled. She would have been fun to tease if they didn’t have serious business ahead of them.
    “Olivia,” she said.
    “Do people call you Liv?”
    She shrugged. “Some.”
    He waved a hand to the murder boards set up against the far wall. He’d watched her eyes darting toward them, obviously eager to get started.
    “What do you know of my cases?”
    She tucked her hair behind her ear, but it almost immediately fell forward. “Initially, I read the press reports, then I had the lab reports sent to me so I could review the evidence. But everything I have is from the Benedict murder. I haven’t had time to review the Davidson file. I assume it’s the same killer?”
    “Yes.”
    “No doubt?”
    “Not in my book. The director of the crime lab is taking the case himself. Doug Cohn. He concurs—same knife, same M.O., and—” he paused, then said, “You know about the hair, right?”
    “The killer cut a chunk about one inch in diameter from the victim’s head.”
    Zack nodded.
    “Any differences between the two cases?”
    Zack shook his head. “Nothing substantial. Jenny was nine; Michelle was eleven. Jenny was an only child whose parents are divorced; Michelle has two siblings and her parents are still married. Both were abducted in the afternoon, killed within forty-eight hours, bodies dumped in a marginally public area and discovered in less than twenty-four hours.”
    “Someone found the body of Jenny Benedict quickly, though,” Olivia said. “Your report said possibly within two hours?”
    “We tracked down every employee who works in that industrial park. The owner of Swanson and Clark Electronics left just after six o’clock Friday evening, three weeks ago. He swears he walked right past where her body was found and she wasn’t there. The last employee to leave,” Zack checked his notes, “Ann Wells. Works at an industrial paint supply store at the end of the row. She didn’t see or hear anything unusual; her husband picked her up right at seven o’clock.”
    “And your witness arrived about 9:30?” Olivia prompted.
    Zack nodded. “Sunset was officially 6:57, but it probably wasn’t full dark until after 7:30. I’m figuring he waited until dark to dump the body as an added precaution.”
    “You’re looking at a two-hour window?”
    “I’m thinking the killer didn’t expect someone to discover the body until at least Saturday morning, and possibly not until Monday. None of the businesses open over the weekend.”
    “I saw something about a tattoo.” Olivia’s heart quickened. This was what she really wanted to hear, but she didn’t want to seem overeager at this point. “No details?”
    “One of the girls who