The Killing Ground: A Foxx Files Thriller by Syd Parker

with her would lead to?"
    Truth be told, Jordan might have already thought of that. Detective Foxx didn’t do anything half—heartedly. She could only assume that her bedroom manner mirrored her fiery personality. “Just keep this idea of yours on the DL for now. I’ve already overstepped our bounds with her, and I don’t want to give her anymore reason to shut the door on the little bit she is feeding us.”
    “No, I know.” Matt shook his head up and down. “So, tomorrow we find the husband?”
    Jordan smiled. She and Matt often thought alike, and tonight was no different. He had already figured out what she decided they would do anyway. “Yep, and we’ll see what Redmond thinks about this guy.”
    Somehow, they drove to his place without realizing it. “Get some sleep, Matty. It’s gonna be busy tomorrow.”
    “Ha, ha, I will.” He slid out of her car and poked his head back in. “I’ll bring coffee.”
    “Thanks.” She threw him a mock salute and put the car in first, easing her foot off the clutch and lowering the gas pedal with skilled precision.
    Here in her car, gliding through the deserted streets, was her sanctuary. At least, it should have been. Tonight, she couldn’t turn her mind off. She couldn’t make the events of the last few days stop colliding like pieces of flotsam floating around in troubled waters. She needed something to take the edge off, and when her car pulled up in front of her local bar, she knew she had no choice but to try and silence the voices with a little help.
    Jordan slid on to a barstool and ordered a whiskey. She held up two fingers signaling she wanted a double. She didn’t nurse the first drink, merely leaned back and threw the contents of her glass down her throat. It stung momentarily, and when she winced, there was a second that her mind was empty. That was the peace she was looking for and had been evading her lately.
    She was about to order another when a flash of red on the TV at the end of the bar caught her attention. “Hey, turn that up.”
    The bartender slid a remote down the bar and nodded when Jordan held up two more fingers. When he set the drink in front of her, Jordan’s attention was already on the TV.  A local reporter was interviewing Detective Foxx, who looked none too happy to be in front of the cameras.
    “Do you have any suspects in this case?”
    Rebecca gave the standard answer. “We’re investigating all possible leads.”
    “Detective Foxx, this is the seventh victim. The citizens of Chicago would like to know if the Chicago Detective Division is getting any closer to making an arrest in the attempted murder of Julie Keppler and the other homicides?”
    Rebecca looked as annoyed as Jordan felt. She hated when a reporter spoke in an overly concerned voice when beneath that plastered on fake smile, their fangs were ready to come out. “I’m afraid I’m not at liberty to reveal that information.”
    “Detective Foxx, can you tell me if the CDD believes this is a serial killer? Are there similarities in the case to the other murders?”
    “No comment.” Jordan noticed that Rebecca's lip was pursed angrily, and she figured the reporters might want to back off.
    “Detective, the Mayor is calling this the most violent crime spree in Chicago history. Do you believe there is more than one person involved?”
    “I’m not at liberty to say.” Rebecca's eyes narrowed.
    “When did the FBI become involved in the investigation? Is this a joint task investigation? Has the CDD requested the FBI’s help since they have made no progress in catching the killer…or killers?”
    Jordan thought Rebecca might have rolled her eyes, but she couldn’t be sure. She looked pointblank at the reporter. “I’m not going to speculate about the details of the case. I’m sure you understand that any information that is leaked could jeopardize this case and put more victims at risk.”
    Not satisfied, the reporter pushed forward and hit Rebecca with a