Their little rendezvous had started from the beginning of their relationship. Ryan would send her a text with an address and no other information. She’d show up, and as her mother used to say, they’d let nature run its course.

Grady had always wondered why he, being the younger brother, was named after his father and not Ben. That was, until after his father died. His mother, Ann, had finally pulled Grady aside and told him that when they found out that Ben was handicapped, they’d changed his name. Grady’s dad didn’t want his namesake to be someone who was compromised, as he’d put it at the time. It still made Grady mad to that day.

Williams held his hands up, glancing away and then back at Grady. “All I’m saying is I can’t have you going off and not being in control of your emotions while you’re at work. The job we do isn’t like what other people do. You pick up a gun and carry it to work every single day. Other people carry briefcases. I can’t have you out on the street if you’re not thinking straight.”

“You know, she was cute. Pretty. Always flirting with the drivers. For my money, I’d guessed she get herself knocked up and end up married instead of going to school. Probably better off that way. Nobody really needs that expensive education. Plenty of good jobs out there without it.”

She pulled on the barn door and stepped into the darkness. After all of the emergency vehicles she’d seen that morning, she knew there was nobody there lying in the dirt anymore. It was a shame. It had been such a beautiful sight. Ryan was gone. So was that little tramp Jasmine. Part of her wished the bodies were still there so that she could sit and look at them some more.

Resting her hand on her stomach, the ache in her belly was nearly palpable. She wanted a child so badly. It felt like there was a giant abyss in her body just waiting for a resident to take up space.

She hoped that every man heard Ryan’s story and took note. There were consequences for actions. Ryan had learned the hard way.

Maybe someday, if Grady ever left Pittsburgh PD, he’d ditch his phone entirely and go live off the grid somewhere. It was a nice thought.

Grady closed his eyes for a second and stared at the ground. Listening to their pleasant greetings made him want to take both of their heads and smash them together, like the characters from the cartoons did. How they could even be civil on a morning like this one, with the smoldering wreckage of the buildings in front of them and virtually no leads in the case, he had no idea.

Cassie rolled her eyes and then laughed. “Grady, you need a hobby.” “Messing with you is my hobby.” “Well, find a new one.”

Trudy was right about one thing — whoever was doing this was one thing — very, very angry. Luckily, that was something Grady knew about.

The screaming never stopped. Never. Max pressed his hands over his ears as hard as he could as he sat on the edge of the bed. It only muffled the sound a little, the ear-piercing screams from his terrified mother and the low guttural yells from his brother only seeming slightly farther away, punctuated by intermittent growls and shouts from their father.

One of the youngest officers to be promoted to the detective unit, the police brass had quickly learned two things about Max when he’d finished the Academy. Number one, he was a quick study, wickedly smart with a nearly photographic memory. Number two, he was better off not dealing with people. Managing people’s emotions, not to mention his own, wasn't exactly his strong suit.

Grady had once read that people who were in physical pain had terrible personal skills, the condition of their physical body causing them to lose any semblance of nicety or manners.

“My wife, she hasn’t been home in a while. This morning, I got a call, and it seems that instead of her just being gone, she’s been kidnapped.”“And what makes you think that?” Grady said, narrowing his eyes. Noah pushed the box he’d been carrying toward Grady. “Take a look inside.”

“I hate it when people call me Max,” Grady grunted. “That is your name.”“No, that was my father’s name,” Grady said firmly.

Eventually, somehow things would end — either they would let her go, she would escape, someone would rescue her or, she’d die in the process. There weren’t that many options.

Somehow, the way Cassie said things always sounded more pleasant, like it was the Disney version of whatever Grady was saying.

“Don’t worry about it. Just take a breath and try to tell me what happened.” It actually wasn’t all right. Having the recording would have made everything easier. There was nothing about this case that was easy, though.

Macy shivered. There were many good things about being a professor of literature, but one of the bad things was that she knew her imagination could run wild after living in the world of fiction for so long.