It breaks my heart.
He died trying to save them.
His hand is still curved around the metal banister at the top of the stairs.
The young father endured slash after slash from a razor-sharp blade.
Deep cuts on his chest and his arms and one cruel stroke across his throat.
All to stop whatever devil this was from getting past him and reaching his wife and child.
Jane stands and continues up the stairs to the bedroom.
I stay back looking over the body.
The man is Broderick Paine, thirty-three. Curly blonde hair, athletic build. Dressed in a tee-shirt and pajama bottoms.
Even dead, he is one of the most beautiful men I've ever seen.
Not that I've seen many men I'd call beautiful.
Just Jane, actually. Of course.
Ever since we started with the FBI, I've been waiting for Jane to….declare himself.
No matter what, this is a hell of an opportunity. I'm glad to be here.
The job at the FBI is amazing. I'm starting to enjoy Austin. I meet new people, new men, everyday.
Even if Jane never makes a move, I will be fine.
Who am I kidding?
Despite everything, I want Jane. God, how I want him.
I keep thinking. Once we settle in. Once I get a place to live. Once Jane gets a place to live. Once we get a few cases behind us. Once Jane gets a couch.
I notice the victim's glassy eyes are the exact color of Jane's.
And something's strange.
There's no wedding band.
There's a clear indentation and the skin is a little paler so it's obvious this man wore a band. But either he removed it or his attacker did.
"Jane. Come take a look at this." I glance up at the bedroom. "Jane?"
I take a quick cell phone photo of the bare finger, then stand and make my way up to the bedroom.
A six-year old girl in a nightgown is asleep on the king-size bed. Her face is obscured by thick blonde curls.
Her mother sits on the edge of the bed.
This is Angelina Russet Paine, 32, and her daughter, Violet.
She is willowy and fair.
Lovely. Like Venus rising from the sea in that early Renaissance painting.
Jane is kneeling at her feet holding her hands in his.
I step into the room.
"Jane?"
He doesn't turn.
And I think I've already lost him.