KISMET

The pool of blood was dark. She was killed hours ago. "He's growing more bold," Detective Buchanan said, aloud. The body was not as isolated as the others had been, but it was brutalized. The victim would be hard to identify.

"Detective?" An officer nodded toward the front entrance to the park. A trio of men in suits were standing there flashing badges. Federal badges.

"I'm looking for the Detective in charge?" a voice said from behind.

"That would be me," Natalie answered, standing slowly. She turned and found herself face to face with an attractive young man. He was dressed in jeans and a long-sleeved black fitted shirt. His brown hair was long, well long-ish, and unkempt. He had stubble and looked like he would fit in under the pier with the local street hustlers. Their eyes locked for a few seconds, taking each other in, and he grinned a very cocky, self-assured grin. She didn't like him. "Nobody called the Feds."

His grin widened. "What makes you think I'm a Fed?" She just looked at him. He grabbed the chain around his neck and pulled out the badge that was hiding under his clothes. "Alright," he began, "so I'm a Fed. If you're the one in charge then you're who I should be talking too." He held out his hand.

Natalie hesitated, but only for a second. She grabbed his hand and shook it, staring at him the entire time. His eyes were piercing, and not because they were the deepest blue she has ever seen. His hand was rough and calloused, but also strong and warm. She dropped it and turned toward the three suits that were heading this way. "Gentlemen," she greeted flatly.

"Hello Natalie."

She smiled. "Jerry, what the hell are you doing here? Did my uncle call you?"

"Nope." He stepped forward and gave her a quick hug. His eyes found the body laying on the perfectly manicured lawn a few feet away. "We need in on this case," he said, stepping back and introducing his colleagues. "This is Federal Agent Sully, and Agent Sharpe."

They just stood there, staring at her with stoney expressions. "Nice suits," Natalie deadpanned, not bothering to hide her annoyance. She turned toward the street hustler, who was also staring. "Didn't anyone tell you there was a dress code?" He was grinning again and she wanted to slap him.

"I guess I missed that memo?" He stepped closer. "John McBain," he said, offering his hand a second time. She didn't take it.

"We've done that already," she pointed out, taking an involuntary step backward. He was too close. "You're not taking my case away from me."

"Let's get out of the schoolyard, shall we?" John challenged, slightly irritated. He wasn't cut out for this political crap, even if it was with an extremely hot redheaded detective. He withdrew his hand and crossed his arms over his chest. "We need in on this case, but if you push it we have the authority to take it out from under you."

She stepped closer, meeting his gaze head on. If he thought he could intimidate her he had another thing coming? Before she could lose her temper however, her uncle showed up.

"Natalie!" he shouted. She turned toward him. "I need you over here for a minute."

Her attention was back on the arrogant agent, who was still standing there ready to square off with her. She walked away. "What the hell are they doing here?" she snapped, when she reached her uncle.

"Calm down. Jerry called and filled me in on a few things. We need to work with them on this, Nat."

"Nobody has bothered to tell me why yet?" She was frustrated, and angry. There was a dead girl on the ground and she was wasting time dealing with three suits and an ass.

"Are you calm?" She took another deep breath, and then smiled. How did he do that?

"Yeah," she said at last. "Talk to me."

He returned her smile. "Come on." They walked back to the agents who were still standing around. All except the one called McBain. He was over at the body with his back to them.

Jerry stepped forward with a huge grin. "Mr. Police Commissioner." He shook his friend's hand. "How are things, Bo?"

Bo Buchanan glanced at the crime scene for the first time. "Well, they've been better."

"Yeah," Jerry replied.

"Do I get to know what's going on?" Natalie asked, growing impatient. She was tired of all this talk. She needed to get back to work.

Jerry turned to her. "What's going on is you have yourself a bona fide serial killer and he seems to have made a home here?"

"And he's not going anywhere anytime soon," John said, rejoining the conversation. He wore latex gloves and held a scrabble piece in his hand.

Natalie felt her stomach tighten. "You found that in the girl's mouth." She wasn't asking, she already knew the answer. He nodded. An officer came and collected the evidence and put it with all the other trace that was found at the scene.

John looked to his fellow agents. "It's him," he said confidently. He looked at Natalie again for a moment. "Well, I'm gonna find a hotel and get started." Then he walked toward the park exit.

Bo turned to his niece. "Finish up here and then come to my office. We'll talk." She nodded.

"Are you staying too?" she asked Jerry.

"Just McBain," he answered. "He'll keep us informed."

Natalie met the older man's eyes. "What makes him qualified to stay and work on this?"

Jerry paused. "He has an intimate knowledge of serial killers. Trust me, he's the best at what he does. You'll need him."

She stood there while the men left the park together. Natalie headed back to the dead girl and her crime scene. She thought about McBain and wondered what Jerry had meant. ...an intimate knowledge of serial killers... He was a puzzle. She glanced at the body again and sighed. She had a much more urgent puzzle to solve. "Don't worry, we'll find him," she promised, under her breath.