The PowWow

By the time we rolled up to the crime scene, the sun had dipped low enough to turn everything gold and wrong.

Yellow tape fluttered in a lazy breeze, strung between two patrol cars and a bent street sign. The neighborhood itself was quiet—too quiet for a place where two cops had been killed and a third man turned into something out of a nightmare.

I killed the engine and stepped out, scanning the area.

Empty.

Except for one person.

She stood just inside the perimeter, arms crossed, posture straight, like she’d been carved out of authority and dropped onto the pavement. Tall—taller than most men I knew—with long auburn hair pulled back in a way that said she didn’t have time for it to get in her way.

Detective.

Had to be.

She turned as we approached.

And for a second—

Yeah.

Okay.

That caught me a little off guard.

Not just pretty.

Striking.

The kind of presence that made you straighten up without being told.

Which, apparently, I did.

Jacob didn’t break stride.

Of course he didn’t.

We reached the tape.

She didn’t move.

“Scene’s closed,” she said.

No attitude.No apology.Just fact.

I opened my mouth—

“Yeah, we’re actually—”

“No,” she said.

Still calm.Still firm.Still not moving.

I blinked.

Well.

Alright then.

I glanced at Jacob.

He looked at her.Then at the tape.Then back at her.

Silence.

Which meant I was up.

Of course.

I held up a finger. “One second.”

I stepped back, pulled out my phone, and scrolled.

Jacob didn’t say anything.

Rachel—because yeah, that name just fit—watched me like she was deciding whether I was about to waste her time or make it worse.

The phone rang once.Twice.

“Jeremiah,” I said when he picked up. “Hey, quick question—how many favors do you have left in this city?”

A pause.

Then a chuckle on the other end.

“Good,” I said. “Because I need one.”

I turned, already walking back.

“Yeah, I’ll hold.”

I stopped in front of her and held out the phone.

“For you.”

She didn’t take it right away.

Her eyes flicked from the phone……to me……then to Jacob.

Assessing.

Always assessing.

Then she took it.

“This is Detective Stryker.”

A beat.

Her posture shifted.

Just slightly.

“That is not the way things work with me, Mr. Yaats.”

Another pause.

Her eyes moved again—back to us.

Longer this time.

Measuring something different now.

“I understand. I hope you’re right.”

Short.Professional.

She handed the phone back.

“Perimeter’s yours,” she said.

And stepped aside.

Just like that.

I slipped my phone back into my pocket, unable to stop the grin tugging at my mouth.

“Jeremiah knows everybody,” I muttered.

Jacob stepped past the tape.

Of course he did.

I followed.

Inside the scene, it felt… off.

Not just quiet.Not just heavy.

Something else.

The air itself felt—

I frowned.

Wrong wasn’t the word.

Familiar was worse.

Rachel moved ahead of us, stopping near where the patrol car had been.

“What we’ve got is limited,” she said. “Techs came through twice. Nothing useful beyond what you’ve already seen.”

I nodded. “Which is nothing.”

She didn’t react.

Instead, she pointed.

“There.”

On the asphalt, just beside where the car had been marked out—

A smear.

A dark line of dried blood.

And above it—

Letters.

Numbers.

Written with fine strands of blond hair.

G61

I crouched, studying it.

“Who’s?” I asked.

“Espinoza’s blood. Alicia’s hair. There were other strands too—we matched them.”

I nodded slowly.

“Do we know who put this here?”

“We don’t,” she said. “But it’s Espinoza’s blood, and there’s no sign the attacker stayed long enough to… decorate.”

Fair.

I glanced at Jacob.

He was already looking at it.

Not the way I was.

Not analyzing.Not guessing.

Just… taking it in.

Like it meant something.

Or might.

“What do you think?” I asked.

He didn’t answer right away.

There it was again.

That delay.

“Deliberate,” he said finally.

Rachel gave a slight nod. “Agreed.”

I stood and looked around.

Car was gone.Glass had been swept.No drag marks.No additional blood trails.

Nothing.

Clean.

Too clean.

I took a few steps, scanning the edges of the scene.

Nothing.

No scuff marks.No impressions.No—

I stopped.

Frowned.

It hit me again.

That feeling.

I glanced at Jacob.

He was already looking at me.

Which meant—

Yeah.

He felt it too.

“You getting that?” I asked quietly.

Rachel looked between us. “Getting what?”

I hesitated.

How do you explain something that doesn’t make sense?

“It’s…” I exhaled. “This is gonna sound weird.”

“It’s already weird,” she said. “Go ahead.”

I rubbed the back of my neck.

“It feels…”

I glanced at Jacob again.

He gave the slightest nod.

Go on.

“…familiar,” I finished.

Rachel’s brow furrowed. “Familiar how?”

I shook my head. “Not like I’ve been here before. More like—”

I searched for it.

“Like someone we know has.”

Silence.

Rachel studied us.

Then looked around the scene again.

Slower this time.

More deliberate.

Jacob spoke.

One word.

“Near.”

Rachel turned to him. “Near what?”

He didn’t elaborate.

Of course he didn’t.

I stepped in.

“He means… this isn’t random.”

I gestured lightly.

“They’re not just out there.”

I met her eyes.

“They’re close.”

That landed.

I saw it.

Not fear.

Not yet.

But something shifted.

Rachel nodded once.

“Then we find them,” she said.

Simple.Direct.No nonsense.

Yeah.

I liked her.

We spent another ten minutes going over the area.

Nothing new turned up.

No additional markings.No hidden evidence.

Just that code.

And that feeling.

Finally, Rachel stepped back.

“That’s everything,” she said.

I nodded. “Yeah.”

Jacob turned toward the tape.

Done.

Of course he was.

I followed, glancing back once more at where G61 sat drying into the pavement.

Yeah.

That wasn’t nothing.

We stepped back out past the tape.

Rachel stayed inside.

Watching.

Always watching.

I gave her a small nod.

She returned it.

Professional.

But not distant.

Not anymore.

We headed toward the car.

I opened the driver’s door—

“Levi.”

I looked over.

Jacob stood there, just watching me.

There was that look again.

That almost-smile.

Dangerous territory.

“…what?” I said.

He tilted his head slightly, glancing back toward the scene.

Then back at me.

“I understand now.”

I narrowed my eyes. “Understand what?”

That small twitch hit the corner of his mouth.

The closest thing he had to a grin.

“…why you talk so much.”

I stared at him.

“…that’s not what this is.”

He stepped past me.

“It is.”

I shut the door harder than necessary.

“You don’t even talk,” I shot back. “You don’t get to have opinions about how much I do.”

He paused on the other side of the car.

Looked at me.

Calm.Measured.And just a little amused.

“You noticed her.”

I froze.

“…I notice lots of things.”

“Yes.”

That was it.

That was all he said.

I pointed at him. “We are not doing this.”

He got in the passenger seat.

Silence.

Weaponized silence.

I slid into the driver’s seat and started the engine.

“…you’re insufferable,” I muttered.

No response.

Of course not.

But I didn’t need one.

I could feel it.

That quiet, internal victory.

Yeah.

This was never going to end.