The piercing sound of Sarah's phone shattered the peaceful morning silence. She groaned, reaching across the unfamiliar bed to silence the intrusion, her hand brushing against warm skin. Alex stirred beside her, his dark hair tousled against the white pillowcase, and for a moment she allowed herself to drink in the sight of him the strong line of his jaw, the way his chest rose and fell with each breath, the small scar above his left eyebrow that she'd traced with her finger just hours before.
"Detective Morrison," she answered, her voice still husky with sleep.
"We've got another body," came the gruff voice of Captain Rodriguez. "Same M.O. as the Martinez case. You need to get down here now."
Sarah's blood ran cold. The Martinez case had been the one that brought her and Alex together three weeks ago a brutal murder that had initially seemed random until they'd uncovered a connection to a human trafficking ring. They thought they'd closed that chapter when they arrested Marcus Delacroix, but apparently, they'd only caught a small fish in a much larger pond.
"Where?" Sarah was already swinging her legs out of bed, reaching for her discarded clothes.
"Warehouse district, pier seventeen. And Morrison?" Rodriguez paused. "Bring your private investigator friend. We're going to need all the help we can get."
Alex's eyes opened as she hung up, immediately alert despite having been sound asleep moments before. It was something she'd noticed about him this ability to shift from complete relaxation to razor-sharp focus in seconds. A skill that probably kept him alive in his line of work.
"Another one?" he asked, already moving to gather his clothes.
"Pier seventeen. Same killer." Sarah pulled on her jeans, trying to shake off the lingering warmth of their night together and slip back into detective mode. But it was difficult when Alex stood there shirtless, his muscled torso bearing the evidence of a life lived dangerously old bullet scars, knife wounds, each one a story she was eager to learn.
They'd spent three weeks working together, three weeks of stolen glances and electric touches, three weeks of fighting an attraction that grew stronger with each case they solved. Last night had been inevitable, but now, in the harsh light of morning and duty, Sarah wondered if they'd crossed a line that would complicate everything.
"Hey." Alex appeared behind her as she struggled with her holster, his hands gentle on her shoulders. "We're still a team, Sarah. Nothing changes that."
She leaned back against him for just a moment, drawing strength from his presence. "Everything changes that," she whispered. "And you know it."
"Then we make new rules," he said, pressing a kiss to the top of her head. "Come on, Detective. We have work to do."
The warehouse district at dawn was a symphony of industrial sounds the distant clang of metal on metal, the low rumble of freight trains, the cry of seagulls fighting over scraps from the fishing boats. Sarah and Alex arrived at the scene simultaneously but in separate cars, maintaining the pretense of professional distance that felt increasingly hollow with each passing hour.
The body was positioned exactly like Maria Martinez had been arms spread wide, face turned toward the sky, a single red rose placed over the heart. But this victim was different. Where Maria had been a young immigrant woman, desperate and vulnerable, this was clearly someone who'd lived a life of privilege. Designer clothes, expensive jewelry, manicured nails.
"Victoria Ashford," Officer Jenkins announced as they approached. "Twenty-six years old, works in finance downtown. No obvious connection to the Martinez case, but the killer's signature is identical."
Sarah knelt beside the body, her trained eye cataloging every detail. The positioning was too precise to be random, too ritualistic. This wasn't passion it was ceremony. "Time of death?"
"Coroner estimates between midnight and 2 AM. Body was discovered by a homeless man around five-thirty."
Alex circled the perimeter, his investigator's instincts focused on what others might miss. "No drag marks," he called out. "She was killed here, or the killer is strong enough to carry dead weight this distance."
"Or there's more than one," Sarah added grimly. She stood, dusting off her knees. "What do we know about her personal life? Boyfriend? Family?"
"That's where it gets interesting," Jenkins consulted his notes. "Parents are wealthy father owns half the shipping companies in the harbor. But Victoria was estranged from them. Been living on her own for two years, working a job that barely paid her rent despite having access to a trust fund she refused to touch."
Sarah and Alex exchanged glances. A rich girl rejecting her family's money and working an honest job in the financial district didn't fit the profile of someone who'd cross paths with human traffickers. Unless…
"What kind of work did she do in finance?" Alex asked.
"Anti-money laundering investigations," Jenkins replied. "She specialized in tracking suspicious transactions and reporting them to federal authorities."
The pieces clicked into place with sickening clarity. Victoria Ashford hadn't been a random victim she'd been a threat. Someone who might have stumbled across financial evidence of the trafficking operation they thought they'd dismantled.
"We need to see her files," Sarah said. "Everything she was working on in the past month."
"Already on it," came a familiar voice behind them. Sarah turned to find Agent Marcus Chen of the FBI approaching, his federal credentials giving him authority that superseded her own. "This case just became a federal matter, Detective Morrison."
Sarah's jaw tightened. She'd worked with Chen before a by-the-book agent who had no patience for unorthodox methods or civilian consultants. His presence meant their investigation was about to become significantly more complicated.
"Agent Chen," she acknowledged coolly. "I wasn't aware the Bureau had taken an interest in our case."
"Two murders with identical signatures, one victim who worked in financial crimes we've been monitoring this situation since the Martinez killing." Chen's gaze shifted to Alex, dismissive. "I assume this is the private investigator who's been inserting himself into police business."
Alex stepped forward, his stance casual but Sarah could see the tension in his shoulders. "Alex Russo. I'm consulting on this case at the department's request."
"Your consultation is no longer required," Chen said flatly. "This is a federal investigation now."
"Like hell," Sarah interjected. "Alex knows this case better than anyone. His insights were crucial in making the first arrest."
"And yet the killer is still out there, isn't he?" Chen's smile was sharp. "Perhaps it's time for professional law enforcement to handle this."
The dismissal was a calculated insult, and Sarah saw Alex's hands clench at his sides. But before either of them could respond, her phone buzzed with a text message. She glanced down and her blood turned to ice.
"Stop digging or the pretty detective joins the others. You have 24 hours."
The message was accompanied by a photo Sarah and Alex leaving his apartment building that morning, completely unaware they were being watched.
"Alex," she said quietly, showing him the screen. His face went pale, then dark with anger.
"What is it?" Chen demanded.
Sarah hesitated. Sharing the threat would mean revealing her personal relationship with Alex, something that could compromise both their positions on the case. But keeping it secret might get them both killed.
"We