Inside His House (A Lucy Crimson Suspense Thriller—Book Eight) E-Book

Kate Bold

• Herausgeber: Lukeman Literary Management
• Kategorie: Krimi
• Serie: A Lucy Crimson Suspense Thriller
• Sprache: Englisch

Seitenzahl: 258

Veröffentlichungsjahr: 2026

Beschreibung

"This is an excellent book… When you start reading, be sure you don't have to wake up early!" —Reader review for The Killing Game ⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐ Dr. Lucy Crimson, criminal psychology professor, former BAU agent, has unmatched brilliance and expertise into the mind of serial killers, and is the one person the FBI turns to when they need help. But when a new killer targets her, matching her brilliance, the race is on to solve the cryptic clues before she may end up as the next victim… When retired FBI profilers begin to die in a sinister twist of their own tactics, Lucy Crimson must untangle a web woven by a killer who's as knowledgeable as his victims. It's a race against time for Lucy to protect her own life while honoring the legacy of her mentor by catching a murderer trained by the very experts he's targeting. This is Book #8 in a new series by #1 bestselling mystery and suspense author Kate Bold, whose bestseller NOT ME (a free download) has received over 3,00 five star ratings and reviews. The LUCY CRIMSON series is a heart-pounding page turner, packed with action, suspense and mystery that will compel you late into the night as you try to unravel the clues. Fans of Kendra Elliot, Teresa Driscoll, and Lee Child are sure to fall in love. Future books in the series are also available! "This book moved very fast and every page was exciting. Plenty of dialogue, you absolutely love the characters, and you were rooting for the good guy throughout the whole story… I look forward to reading the next in the series." —Reader review for The Killing Game ⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐ "Kate did an amazing job on this book and I was hooked from the first chapter!" —Reader review for The Killing Game ⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐ "I really enjoyed this book. The characters were authentic, and I see the bad guys as something we hear about daily on the news... Looking forward to book 2." —Reader review for The Killing Game ⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐ "This was a really good book. The main characters were real, flawed and human. The story went along quickly and wasn't mired in too many unnecessary details. I really enjoyed it." —Reader review for The Killing Game ⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐ "Alexa Chase is headstrong, impatient, but most of all brave with a capital B. She never, repeat never, backs down until the bad guys are put where they belong. Clearly five stars!" —Reader review for The Killing Game ⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐ "Captivating and riveting serial murder with a twist of the macabre… Very well done." —Reader review for The Killing Game ⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐ "WOW what a great read! Talk about a diabolical killer! Really enjoyed this book. Looking forward to reading others by this author as well." —Reader review for The Killing Game ⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐ "Page turner for sure. Great characters and relationships. I got into the middle of this story and couldn't put it down. Looking forward to more from Kate Bold." —Reader review for The Killing Game ⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐ "Hard to put down. It has an excellent plot and has the right amount of suspense. I really enjoyed this book." —Reader review for The Killing Game ⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐ "Extremely well written, and well worth buying and reading. I can't wait to read book two!" —Reader review for The Killing Game ⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐

Leseprobe

I N S I D E

H I S

H O U S E

(A Lucy Crimson Mystery—Book 8)

K a t e   B o l d

CONTENTS

PROLOGUE

CHAPTER ONE

CHAPTER TWO

CHAPTER THREE

CHAPTER FOUR

CHAPTER FIVE

CHAPTER SIX

CHAPTER SEVEN

CHAPTER EIGHT

CHAPTER NINE

CHAPTER TEN

CHAPTER ELEVEN

CHAPTER TWELVE

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

CHAPTER NINETEEN

CHAPTER TWENTY

CHAPTER TWENTY ONE

Kate Bold

Bestselling author Kate Bold is the author of numerous series in the mystery and thriller genres, including Meg Thorne, Heather King, Brynn Justice, Beth Drake, Maggie Flight, Addison Shine, Barren Pines, Nina Veil, Nora Price, Kelsey Hawk, Alexa Chase, Ashley Hope, Camille Grace, Harley Cole, Kaylie Brooks, Eve Hope, Dylan First, Lauren Lamb series.

Many of Kate’s books are available for free. Please visit Kate’s author page to find out more.

An avid reader and lifelong fan of the mystery and thriller genres, Kate loves to hear from you, so please feel free to visit www.kateboldauthor.com to learn more and stay in touch.

SERIES BY KATE BOLD

MEG THORNE

HEATHER KING

BRYNN JUSTICE

BETH DRAKE

MAGGIE FLIGHT

ADDISON SHINE

BARREN PINES

NINA VEIL

NORA PRICE

KELSEY HAWK

ALEXA CHASE

ASHLEY HOPE

CAMILLE GRACE

HARLEY COLE

KAYLIE BROOKS

PROLOGUE

Dr. Victoria Shaw sat in the small home office at the back of her house. When she had first converted the office, too many years ago to remember, it had been placed in the confines of the very rear of the building to offer sanctuary. Her work as a psychologist and FBI profiler needed stern concentration and a high level of focus. Being at the rear of the house offered her a space to do just that.

In the past, more so than the present.

The house had once been busier than it was now, with a husband who was now passed, children who had moved away, and visits from friends and colleagues that were more numerous back then when she was working compared to now that she was retired.

Still, there was something welcome about the position of the office, as if walking the carpeted hallway put her in the right frame of mind to do her profiling work.

At seventy-two, her body might have slowed down some, but her mind had not, and it showed no intention of doing so. Wrinkles criss-crossed Victoria's face, and her lips were usually tight, especially when she was working on a case, giving her a look of annoyance when she usually wasn't.

She was working that night on a case one of her contacts had sent over. She wasn’t an official consultant with the FBI anymore, but they did send her cases from time to time to look at and give her opinion. She was in the midst of forming a profile on the person contained in the case file, most likely a man, based on what she had read so far.

Vitoria looked up from the files and into the darkness of the hallway. It was like staring into the abyss, or the blackness that resided in some people’s souls. No matter how many people they caught, someone else was ready to rise and take their place by doing evil deeds. It was a never-ending carousel with people getting on and off constantly, with the carousel never stopping.

The doorbell echoed through the darkness.

It was the one inconvenience about working in the back of the house. Whenever there was a visitor, she had to leave her office and make it through the house, which she had admitted to herself was not that big of a deal, even if it felt like one sometimes.

Victoria left the light of the office, entered the pitch black for a few moments before reaching the safety and illumination of the living room. She passed through that into the entranceway and reached the door as the doorbell sounded again.

"I’m coming, I’m coming," she said as she opened the door.

There was some mild surprise as she saw who had been ringing her bell, and she found she couldn’t speak.

"I’m sorry for calling on you so late," the man said.

Victoria found her manners. "No, not at all. I wasn’t expecting to see you here. It’s been so long."

"Am I invited in, or will I stay standing on the doorstep?" he asked. "If you want me to leave, you only have to say that. Perhaps I should have called ahead."

"No, no. Come in for some tea," Victoria said.

Being of English descent, she always had some good tea stocked in the kitchen cupboard, a habit she had brought with her from England, along with her proper English accent.

"I can't stay for long," the man said, "but tea would be nice."

"How are you doing?" Victoria asked as she shepherded her visitor in.

"I’ve been better," the man said.

"Anything I can help with?" Victoria asked as she closed the door behind her guest.

"Perhaps," the man said. "I don't know for sure, but there was something I needed to run by you."

Victoria smiled and nodded as she walked past her guest toward the kitchen. She was halfway down the hallway when she noticed her guest wasn’t following. She stopped and turned, looking back through the darkness toward him.

He was a silhouette in the dim hallway, except for a small sliver of light by his waist. Victoria glanced at the reflected light, her mind taking a second to catch up, and even then, her fear was two steps behind.

"What are you doing?" she asked.

"I’m sorry, Victoria. This is the way it has to be."

The sliver of light came from the blade hanging by his waist, the knife gripped tightly in his hand.

"Just breathe, okay?" She raised both hands before her, trying to search his face, but it was impossible with the lack of light.

The man did as he was told, taking a deep breath, but Victoria knew in that breath that he wasn’t wavering in his resolve to do what he had come to do. She’d spoken to multiple angry people before and made them see reason, but when a man was standing before her in her house with a knife, there was no time for that.

There was only one thing to do: run!

Victoria spun and darted for the kitchen, hoping to find something she could use to defend herself or attack back with. Her body groaned at being thrust into action so quickly.

As she darted to the kitchen, she realized that she couldn’t dart anymore. Her movement was nothing more than a slow turn and a slightly hastened walk.

Her guest caught up with her before she had made it more than two steps. He grabbed her by the shoulder and yanked her back.

Victoria stumbled backward, losing her balance and falling against the wall, before sliding down it with a thump. It wasn’t a hard fall, but hard enough for someone her age.

She breathed out heavily and had just enough instinct and reflex to bring her hands up before her face as she saw the familiar glint of a blade coming toward her.

It felt cold as the blade cut her hand and came down toward her chest. Her system was shocked, but there was no pain. Her feeble attempt at defending herself did nothing, and when she tried to breathe in, the pain came.

Only for a second.

One quick flash of red-hot pain in her chest.

Then everything faded to black.

CHAPTER ONE

Lucy and Sam sat in the library, both of them with books in hand and a warm cafetière of coffee between them. Lucy finished the chapter she was reading before looking over her book at the library full of books. Her Victorian house was still a work in progress, but the library was finished, and the room they hung out in most since Sam had moved in a month ago.

"So, we’re fully embracing this?" Lucy asked.

"What?" Sam murmured as he continued to read his Western novel.

"The corner of shame," she pointed out. "It’s still the corner of shame, right?"

Sam’s head didn't shift, but his eyes did. Those big, blue eyes had attracted Lucy from the moment she first laid eyes on him. He was a tall, Viking-like man, with blonde hair to complement his deep blue eyes that flashed with the color of the sea and a large frame that gave a warning of what might happen if someone tested him physically. Lucy was protected and safe whenever Sam was around.

"Oh, it's still the corner of shame," Sam noted, "and we should feel ashamed sitting here, but if we feel no shame, is it really the corner of shame?"

It was their inside joke since Sam moved in. Lucy had caught him unpacking Western novels, teasing him for it, but she quickly quietened when he found her boxes of romance. After each claiming their trashy fiction was better than the others, they decided to stack both genres in the corner bookshelf and create a Corner of Shame where they could display and read the books they had teased each other for.

"As soon as you go to work and tell your colleagues about your Western books, then we can talk about a name change," Lucy said.

Sam was an ex-Navy SEAL who now worked in the FBI's violent crimes office.

"I don't know if we need to do that," Sam replied. "I’ve gotten used to the name, so it would only confuse things if we changed it. Besides, it’s a lot more fun to read in the corner of shame than anywhere else in the library."

"Yeah, it is kind of fun," Lucy admitted

Lucy had first met Sam when consulting on FBI cases. She was a professor of Criminology at Gates University in Boston, the city where she had grown up and still lived. Still, her teaching had been put aside recently to consult on multiple serial killer cases over the past months. She and Sam made a good team, and they were personally responsible for taking multiple killers off the street.

Lucy was shorter than Sam by a good six inches, coming in at five feet six, and one year younger than him at forty. She had pale blue eyes, long light brown hair, and was more slim than curvy. She sat in the Corner of Shame in a pair of sweatpants and an old t-shirt that she liked to sleep in.

"I’m going to make more coffee," Lucy said.

"That would be amazing," Sam said. "We can read for a while longer, and then I’ll make some of my famous pancakes."

"The ones you burned the last time?" Lucy asked as she stood and laid her book on the table.

"Hey," Sam said with a smile. "That was one time. Well, I mean two if you include…the other time I burned them. So, two times, which maybe that is quite a lot when I’ve only made you pancakes half a dozen times."

"I’m sure you’ll get it eventually," Lucy said. "Practice makes perfect, right?"

"Here’s hoping," Sam said before going back to his book.

Lucy made her way through to the kitchen and flicked the switch on the kettle to start it boiling. She placed her hands on her hips and looked around the kitchen. It was one of the last rooms to be finished, but it was coming together.

She’d bought the house after she and her husband had separated, but before they divorced. It was something in her life that was all hers, and Sam had helped with many of the renovations. As they worked together, a relationship had grown amid the renovations. Now, he was a firm part of her life, and they lived together in pretty perfect harmony.

Sam still had an apartment in the city, but he was currently renting it out for income. Lucy had always seen the Victorian house as her own, but recently, she’d seen it more as their place.

"Hey, we should talk more about the proposal," Sam called through from the library.

Lucy’s heart leaped into her throat. She was in love with Sam, and she couldn’t deny she had thought about a life spent with him, but they hadn’t spoken seriously about it yet. After the way her first marriage had ended with James cheating on her with multiple young women, she had been put off marriage somewhat.

I know Sam would never do that to me, but am I ready to get married again?

"I can do some work on the kitchen, but I think it will look a lot better and go a lot smoother if a professional does it," Sam called.

Lucy became even more confused. The kettle clicked off as it boiled. Lucy quickly discarded the used coffee grounds from the cafetière, rinsed it out, and spooned in fresh coffee before adding the water. As she was doing that, she tried to work out if she had missed some total piece of the conversation to connect Sam’s two thoughts, or if she had replied and forgotten.

She put the lid on the coffee press and walked back through to the library with it.

"What do you think?" Sam asked when she entered the room.

"About…?"

Sam looked up from his book. "We spoke about submitting some proposals to multiple contractors for how you want the kitchen to look and getting some quotes before moving ahead with more renovations. Do you still want to do that?"

"Oh, yes," Lucy said, relieved. She took a moment to discern whether she truly was relieved or if there was some disappointment there, too. She couldn’t quite tell. "Yes, let’s do that. I can call around tomorrow morning to arrange for some contractors to visit and take a look. It’ll be nice to get the kitchen done."

Lucy sat back down in her warm chair with a smile. She knew she wanted to spend the rest of her life with Sam, but she just wasn’t sure if she needed marriage. After a few minutes of sitting and wondering what their future would look like, she plunged the cafetière and poured out more coffee for each of them.

She was about to return to her book when her phone rang.

Her father was calling.

Lucy had a strained relationship with her father, but she wanted to fix that, and her father's call was a good sign. She’d reached out to him, and he was reaching right back.

"Hey," Lucy answered.

"We need to talk," her father said.

It might have sounded ominous in any other situation, but it only filled Lucy with hope.

***

Lucy parked her car in the vast expanse of empty space before her father’s farmhouse that often doubled as a driveway. She looked at the home that was still foreign to her. Lucy had been there multiple times over the years, but it wasn’t her home. Her father, a retired criminal court judge, had moved to the small farmhouse outside Boston after the death of his wife and daughter.

Kate Crimson, Lucy’s mother, passed from breast cancer when Lucy was sixteen, and Desiree was murdered when Lucy was eighteen. The murder was still unsolved. Her father had never fully recovered from the double loss. Lucy hadn’t either, but in a very different way. She had been looking into her sister's case, while her father wanted to leave the past in the past.

Something he found challenging to do when Lucy was pushing for justice.

Lucy got out of her car and approached the house. She stopped before she got to the door. It was Sunday afternoon, and while she didn't know all of her father’s habits, she did know that he was most often found out in the garden on a Sunday, something that she remembered vividly from childhood.

She went around the side of the house to the backyard, where she found her father crouched down, digging in the soil with a small trowel.

"Hey, Dad," Lucy called out.

Robert stood immediately and turned to face her, his brow glistening with sweat. Robert had retired five years ago and spent most of his time confined to his house and yard. The evidence of that was apparent in the numerous small lots of sprouts shooting up in the freshly-tilled soil.

Robert was sixty-seven years old, still a fit and handsome man, tall with grey-streaked black hair, green eyes, and a welcoming smile. He just as easily stares down a criminal in a courtroom as he could make someone feel welcome with a quick glance.

"I have some lemonade," Robert said as he wiped his brow. He started off toward the back deck before stopping and turning to Lucy. He gestured to himself. "Hugs come later. I’ve been in the yard all morning. It really helps to clear the head."

"Lemonade sounds great." Lucy started off toward the deck with her father.

She wanted to ask a million questions, but he was a hard nut to crack, so she waited for him to volunteer the information, which she was sure he would do, being the one to call her.

Robert got to the back deck first and poured two glasses of lemonade before falling into one of the reclined wooden chairs. He took a breath and then a sip of juice. Lucy joined him, looking out into the backyard.

They were so very different, yet they shared the same trauma—a bond that further tied them together. It was nice to sit for a while with her father and sip lemonade, the calm before the storm.

Lucy thought of her sister Desiree, and she had the feeling that her father was thinking of Desiree, too. Lucy’s sister was twenty-one when she was murdered, found in a back alley in the middle of Boston, her killer possibly still out there. Sam had been helping to investigate the case, and while there had been some leads after twenty years, they had all led to dead ends.

The only curiosity that had not been followed up on was the possibility of some missing case files. Lucy was sure there should be more. Her father, being an ex-judge, was well placed to find out where the files might have gone.

Of course, that came with its own complications. If files were missing, and they weren’t just lost, then someone had purposefully stolen them or left them out of the case. That meant there was more to the case than just murder. Even after twenty years, investigating it from that angle came with dangers. If someone had covered up details twenty years ago, they wouldn’t want those details coming out now.

"How are you doing?" Robert asked, finally breaking the silence.

"I’m doing okay, Dad. How about you?"

"Oh, fine, fine. And Sam? Things are still going well with him?"

"Yeah, they’re going really well," Lucy replied.

Robert took another sip of the lemonade. "Good, that’s good. He’s a fine man."

"Yeah, he is." Lucy took a sip. It felt like she was in an interview, and all of her experience told her not to push her father, or he might shut down. Still, she was anxious for something from him, like someone who had been out in the desert for weeks and had just spotted a waterhole, but they weren’t allowed to run to the life-saving water. They had to saunter agonizingly toward it. "We’re starting a life together."

"He’s a better man," Robert commented.

He didn't come out and say it, but Lucy knew her father was talking about her ex-husband James.

"Yeah," Lucy agreed.

Silence once again.

There was something more to her father than there had been on her previous visit, which was two months ago. She began to worry that he wouldn’t talk to her about Desiree or the case at all. She loved her father, but she hadn’t come to just sit outside with him and enjoy the weather.

"Dad," she said.

Robert shifted in his chair. He understood the tone in her voice.

Her father cleared his throat, then waited a good ten seconds before speaking.

"You were right that there are some incomplete records in the case files, and I don't know yet where they are. It’s also apparent there are some sealed files connected to the case."

"Sealed files?" Lucy asked.

"Yes," her father replied. "Perhaps the remainder of the incomplete files are in there. Most often, the files are sealed when they want to protect the identity of someone or because they pertain to another case. There's some sensitive information in there, but we don't know what it is yet. The only immediate problem is how far down the files have been burned."

"What do you mean?" Lucy took another sip of lemonade.

"It means that not only were they sealed, but someone didn't want them found to be unsealed. That’s likely why we’re only hearing about them for the first time now; when your boyfriend looked into the case, he didn't know about their existence."

"What does that mean?" Lucy asked.

"I don't know yet," Robert admitted. "I’ve only just started putting feelers out. The files were locked and buried for a reason, and I don't want to tip anyone off that I’m looking into the case before I get access to the files and find out what that reason might be. I know how these things work."

Lucy reached over and placed her hand on Robert’s forearm. "Thanks, Dad. I know you don't like looking back into the past, but this means a lot to me."

"I hate it all," Robert said. "I don't want to be looking into this. I know how this sort of thing works, too, and if her killer wasn’t found when she was killed, they likely won't ever be found, but the fact that someone might be hiding something connected to the case really ticks me off. I let go of the past a long time ago, but I won't let this stand.

"Thanks, Dad," Lucy repeated, squeezing his arm again. "I can't ever give up on her murder, no matter how small the chance is that we get justice. I need to try, even if I go to my grave not knowing the truth."

"All right, enough talk about death," Robert warned. "You’re in the prime of your life, Lucy, and I won't have that. We’ll get together again soon, all right?"

"Are you kicking me out already?" Lucy asked.

"No, but Sam is approaching in his car, so I’m assuming you have somewhere else to be."

Lucy looked down the road to see Sam’s car approaching. She quickly took out her phone to see multiple missed calls from Sam and other people. She’d put her phone on silent so she wouldn’t be disturbed while talking with her dad. If Sam had come in person, it didn't bode well.

All Lucy could think about was another murder. Someone was dead, and she and Sam were needed on the case.

Why are we so often called into action on Sundays when we’re just trying to rest?

It didn't matter which day they were called upon—Lucy would always answer the call.

Lucy watched the car for a moment as Sam drove toward the farmhouse from the west side, and then got up when his car disappeared to follow the road around to the front of the house. She walked back around the side to meet him at the front.

She stood and waited as he arrived, but he didn't park his car beside hers. Instead, he turned and pulled up alongside Lucy, lowering his window.

"We need to go," Sam said.

"I thought we might," Lucy replied.

"It’s Victoria," Sam uttered.

The word hung between them, followed by silence. Victoria Shaw had been somewhat of a mentor to Lucy, and she was still a good friend.

"She was attacked," Sam added. "It’s not…it’s not good."

Lucy shook her head. She expected to hear someone had died, and she could investigate it while remaining detached. After shaking her head, she nodded, then walked in a daze to her car. She got in and followed Sam as he pulled away again. She caught her father’s eyes as he stood at the side of the building, watching them go.

Not Victoria. Please not Victoria.

CHAPTER TWO

Lucy held the phone to her ear as she got out of her vehicle.

"I’m here," she told Sam.

"That’s good," Sam replied. "That’s the best place for you right now. I’m almost at her house. I don't care about being formally a part of the investigation; I’m a part of it whether they like it or not."

"Do they know how this happened?" Lucy asked.

"Not yet," Sam said. "I’ll give you some space for now, but when you’re done, call me and I'll take you through anything we find at the home. I only know that it was pretty violent, so be prepared for what you see in there."

"I will," Lucy said.

She said her goodbyes to Sam and ended the call. She’d been around numerous crime scenes and dead bodies, many of them mutilated, and that experience prepared her for gore and injury and death, but not when it came to a good friend. There was nothing that could prepare her to see Victoria.

Lucy entered the hospital and went straight to the reception desk.

"I need to find my friend, Victoria Shaw. She was just brought in," Lucy said.

"Are you family?" the receptionist asked.

"I’m not. I’m her friend," Lucy explained. "I work as a consultant for the FBI. Look, here’s my card." Lucy fished that from her bag. "I’m also investigating the case. I don't care what I need to do, I’ll have the FBI come down here and order the hospital to give me access if that’s what it takes, but I’m not here to cause trouble. I’m here to find out what happened to my friend and to catch the person who did it. I want to help, okay?"

The receptionist took the credentials from Lucy and studied them for a second before handing them back. "I can't let you go up there right now, but I can have someone come and talk with you, okay? Victoria Shaw is in surgery right now, so no one is allowed to see her. That’s all I can tell you."

Lucy took a breath. "No, that’s fine. Thank you. I just want to help her. Whatever I need to do."

The receptionist pointed. "There’s a small waiting room just over there. You can wait there, and I’ll have someone come down and talk to you as soon as they are available, but you will need to wait."

"That’s fine," Lucy said, raising her hands. "Thank you for your help, I really appreciate it."

"That’s okay," the receptionist said.

Lucy left the desk and headed in the direction of the waiting room. She didn't know much about what had happened other than that Victoria had been attacked and stabbed. When Sam had first come to her father’s home, she expected the worst. In her consulting with the FBI, the worst was usually what she got. Victoria was in surgery after being attacked, and that felt like a small miracle. Her friend was still alive, and that was all that mattered for now. Lucy would stay at the hospital until Victoria was stable, and then she would find out who had dared to attack her friend.

***

Sam pulled up at Victoria Shaw’s house. There were multiple police vehicles already there. It was still light, but the day had taken on a grayness. That dull hue was cut through by flashing red and blue lights along with bright yellow police tape. Sam parked as close as he could and exited his vehicle.

The air smelled metallic as if lightning was on the way. There were no clouds dark enough in the sky, but they may roll in later. Sam made his way over to the first line of defense around the house, the officer stationed at the taped boundary.

He took out his badge and showed it to the officer.

"I need to talk with whoever is in charge," Sam told him.

"Detective Peters," the officer said, turning slightly. "Hey, detective!" the officer called.

A middle-aged man in a charcoal suit turned from the two officers he was talking to.

"The FBI is here," the officer said.

Detective Peters frowned and stood with his neck craned for a second before waving the two officers away and approaching Sam.

"I wasn’t aware this was a federal matter, it’s not like—" Detective Peters started.

"The FBI is not taking over the case," Sam interrupted. "You don't need to worry about that. I’m here as a favor to a friend of the woman who was attacked. I’m here to lend a hand. This is your investigation, Detective Peters, and I’m only here to help. Of course, that gives you additional resources if they are needed. Within reason, of course."

"Okay," the detective said, some hesitancy coloring his voice.

The detective had jet black hair that looked too rich to be natural. It was likely he dyed it after some grey had started coming through, and going by the sheen, he had dyed it recently. He was clean-shaven with a jowly neck and round eyes.

"Can you walk me through the crime scene and anything you have so far?" Sam asked.

"Uh, yeah, for sure," the detective said. "Follow me." The detective glanced at the officer before turning and heading toward the house.