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not. You’ve got bigger fish to fry.” He nodded toward the folders in her arms. “Count your blessings.”
    Not So was as intuitive as a hammer, but he was blessed with political acumen. He believed information was power, and he wasn’t about to share any of his. She didn’t like giving up cases before she cleared them, especially this one. It was only a simple assault, but she wanted to know what happened to Audrey. And her reasons weren’t purely professional.
    Then another thought occurred to her. Maybe Audrey had used her position in the mayor’s office to call off the investigation. Not So would definitely jump at the chance to do the mayor a favor. Would the police department let that happen? Did Audrey have something to hide or was she simply concerned with the most productive use of departmental resources, as she’d stated? Dropping a case, no matter how insignificant, was sort of like cooking the crime stat books and generally frowned upon.
    As she left Sharp’s office, she considered maybe he was right to take her off the investigation. Rae couldn’t even concentrate with Audrey staring at her. She lost track of physical tells and the facts while drowning in her blue eyes. Audrey could’ve spun an intricate tale of deceit while Rae focused on her sexy leg crossing. Rae was usually more attentive and much more certain of other people’s reactions. If Audrey was hiding something, could Rae trust herself enough to ask the right questions? Audrey was simply distracting. But her delicate façade masked fierce independence and an almost-palpable depth of experience. Was what Rae saw in Audrey a reaction to some past hurt, a deeply buried scar, or the result of her recent assault?
    Rae dropped the stack of folders on her desk and decided she had better things to do than chase a mystery no one wanted her to solve. The victims in these cases deserved her best effort. Her first serial case required that her skills be sharp and her instincts on target. It pained her to think she might not be up for the task, no matter how badly she wanted justice or how much she craved the challenge.
    She tried to reason away her reservations. Sergeant Sharp wouldn’t have given her the cases if he didn’t trust her skills. Maybe he knew she’d fail and he could blame it on her inexperience. That didn’t make sense. Failure would make him look bad. He must want her to succeed. She hated this—doubting herself and her abilities.
    Rae quieted the uncertainty and pulled the first case file, dated almost a year ago, from the folder. Victim #1—she didn’t allow herself to call the victims by name yet, except when conducting interviews. Some of her coworkers considered her method unsympathetic, but her approach served as an additional motivator and helped keep her emotions in check. When she made an arrest, she felt like she’d done her job and could then face the victims with pride and address them by name.
    The no-frills verbiage of Whitt’s follow-up report introduced Rae to the first victim and the severity of the offense:
     
    White female, 21 years of age, blond hair, kidnapped from a high-traffic area and assaulted with a blade, possibly knife and/or scalpel. Victim on the way home from New Year’s party, reports being subdued, possibly drugged. Woke up hours later near dumpster in deserted area with injuries. No information on suspect. Abrasions on victim’s wrists from restraints. Toxicology report showed no signs of drugs in victim’s system.
    Erratic slicing-type cuts to upper abdominal area extending to lower abdominals above pubic region. Injuries appear random and frenzied. Victim reported suspect whispered “liar” to her repeatedly.
    Rae slid the victim photos from the folder and stared in disbelief at the irregular cuts through the taut, young flesh. The weapon severed muscle tissue in some areas and barely dissected the skin layers in others. At first glance the injuries appeared to be a classic crime of