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priate wheels were in motion, she could put thoughts of everything else out of her head. Focus on Baldwin, on their life together. The idea of leaving the case open and active made her stomach hurt.

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J.T. Ellison

* * *

The CJC looked forlorn in the winter landscape. The cold stone appeared colder, the windows seemed to have empty rooms behind them. Since there was more snow predicted, she assumed people had taken off early. Taylor stared at the entrance, the back door she’d come through hundreds of times, realizing that this would be the last time she’d see it from this perspective. Swallowing the misgiv

ings, she bounded up the stairs, swiped her card and took the hallway to her office. She didn’t run into a soul, con

firming her earlier feeling. The building was practically empty. Except for the homicide offices.

She turned the corner and was greeted with a hail of shouts and cheers.

“Taylor, what the hell are you doing here?” Marcus scrambled out of a chair, making a place by the space heater for his boss to sit. Taylor took the chair gratefully, slipping off her gloves and rubbing her hands together in front of the heater, luxuriating in the billowing heat it dis

pensed. She noticed Marcus sidling across the room casually. He reached behind him, pulled the door to her office closed. Fitz tried to distract her.

“Yeah, LT, aren’t you supposed to be getting all beau

tified for the wedding?” Fitz was informal today, his hair an exceptional steely-gray, hunter’s plaid shirt untucked, his increasingly smaller paunch spilling over the tops of his jeans. He was unapologetic about his garb, just leaned further back in his chair, crossing his arms behind his head. “And what time’s the rehearsal again?”

He winked at Lincoln Ross, who had glanced up from his industrious work digging a rock out of the tread of his Timberland boots. Lincoln gave Taylor a smile, the small 14

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gap between his two front teeth the only mar on his oth

erwise handsome face. She smiled back at him, comforted by his tranquility.

“You guys are a regular riot. Why are you all dressed like you’re going camping?”

“Because you weren’t supposed to be in today and we were all pla

“Really? Camping? In a snowstorm?”

“Is it snowing again?” Lincoln went to the window, frowning at the street below.

“It was starting up when I came in.” Taylor started to go into her office, but all three men moved toward her, saying no simultaneously. Fitz guided her to his desk and held out the chair for her.

“Any reason in particular I’m not allowed to go into my own office, boys?”

“Nope, no reason. As a matter of fact, you really should bundle up and head on home.” Marcus smiled at her, Lincoln nodded his agreement.

“But I need to wrap a few things up.”

Fitz shook his head. “No, you don’t. Just stop thinking about it, LT. You’re going to be gone for three weeks. The Fibbies are all over this like a fried june bug. You get married, go to Italy and have a wonderful start to your new life. We’ll get it covered. I promise.”

“Has anyone heard from the esteemed Charlotte Douglas since she returned to Quantico? And is there any word on Jane Macias? There’s a serial killer out there, in case y’all have forgotten. I want to help. I think I should postpone—”

Lincoln cut her off. “Oh, hell no, sister. Not a chance. 222

J.T. Ellison

You’re getting married tomorrow whether you like it or not. End of story. How d’you like my head?”

Taylor looked him over. She couldn’t believe she hadn’t noticed it immediately, chastised herself for being so selfabsorbed. Lincoln had shaved his head bare, removing the curly dreadlocks he’d been sporting for the past few months. His skin was a shiny café au lait, glistening with conditioner. She got out of the warm chair, circled him a few times, contemplating. He’d looked like a sexy Rasta singer à la Le

“Very slick, my friend. That tux is going to be stu

“Naw, don’t you go making any speeches now. We’re all good with the setup. Fitz walks you down the aisle, Marcus and I have equal standing as bridesmen, even though we’ll be on Baldwin’s side, and Sam’s the maid of honor.”

“Matron of honor,” Marcus chimed in. “A maid of honor is for someone who isn’t married yet.” He gri

“Whatever, butthead. All that matters is our favorite lieutenant’s getting married.” Lincoln jumped out of the chair. He and Marcus started a chorus. The baritone and tenor filled the room.

“Here comes the bride, short, fat and wide….” They dissolved into giggles before they reached the third line. Fitz and Taylor watched the two goof off, shaking their heads and laughing at their antics. Despite the specter of a serial killer in their midst, the homicide team was in understandably high spirits.

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Taylor looked at Fitz. “Is there really a reason why I’m not allowed in my office?”

“There really is. Wouldn’t want to spoil the surprise. Just a little something for your wedding night.”

She gave him a dirty look.

“Oh, stop it. We’re just wrapping presents. So why don’t you go home?”

She looked at him, deep in the eyes, and he sighed.

“Okay. Okay. You can stay. But you still can’t go in your office.”

Moments like this, she wondered who was really in charge of the unit.

Lincoln’s phone rang, and he and Marcus stopped horsing around so he could answer it. He rolled his eyes and nodded, hanging up without a word.

“Body. Who wants to go?”

“Me,” Taylor stood. When they all started in griping at her, she shot them a look. “Lincoln’s primary. I’m just going along for the ride. It will be like I’m not even there. Let’s go.”

As they packed it up and left, Taylor’s emotions were mixed. Every time they got called out now, she expected to find the mutilated body of Jane Macias. Damn, she wanted to catch this guy before they blew the country. Twenty-Five

Nashville, Te