“After the case involving Sarah, I don’t want to work directly with criminals again. Especially someone as unhinged as Ghost. I can help catch the bad guys from behind the scenes.”

If I’m around Ghost, then my fascination will only deepen. Which means he could do more than haunt me. He could possess me.

Allen nods in understanding. “Sometimes the only way to catch a criminal is to find them in the shadows where they dwell. If Ghost can lead us to her kidnapper, we might have a chance to find Anna Lee alive.”

The truth of his words hits me like a fist to the chest. I suck in a breath, my nostrils flaring. I can still see Ghost’s white hair hanging over his brow along with his cruel smile. However, I also recall Anna Lee’s missing poster, her eyes full of innocence and joy.

Fisting my hands, I meet Allen’s gaze. “When do I visit him?”

“Tomorrow.”

Shit.

“Why?” I mutter to myself.

It’s the question that I’ve asked myself for years. Sometimes I find answers, but mostly I’m left with more questions and less clarity than before. Does that stop me from continuing to seek answers, to find closure buried deep in the minds of deviant criminals? No, I’ll never stop trying to understand them.

My sanity depends on it.

The cab driver grabs my attention by clearing his throat. “Because you hailed me down, miss.”

“I’m sorry. I’m talking to myself. Just ignore me.”

“Whatever you say, miss.”

The middle-aged man shifts his gaze from me to the road and turns up the radio a notch. I look down at the open folder resting on my lap before flipping through the scant information we have on Ghost. Behavior

Name Preference: Only exhibits a response to being called “Ghost.” Identifies strongly with the alias given by federal authorities, possibly as a form of psychological defense.

Physical Movements: Tests the restraints frequently, indicating discomfort with confinement but also possibly assessing escape potential or demonstrating his apathy.

Reading Dr. Richards’s report is interesting, considering he’s had the longest interaction with Ghost so far. However, I disagree with his conclusion that Ghost is assessing potential escape. He turned himself in.

So the real question is: What does Ghost stand to gain from it? Psychological Indicators

Control and Power: Derives satisfaction from the fear and control he exerts over others. This is a recurring theme in his speech, indicating a potential for antisocial personality disorder with traits associated with psychopathy. Further evaluation to confirm conduct disorder as a juvenile is required for a diagnosis of ASPD, and further tests such as the PCL-R may confirm psychopathic tendencies.

“Ah, fuck me.”

I let my head fall back against the headrest and close my eyes, ignoring the driver’s curious glance. Psychopaths are the hardest to deal with. The lack of human emotion is something I can intellectually comprehend, but even my reserved and strict nature isn’t completely void of feelings.

No matter how much I try to ignore them.

The cab pulls to a stop, jolting me from my work.

“We’re here,” the driver says. “Have a good night, miss.”

“You too.”

I hurriedly shove the folder in my bag and exit the cab. In front of me is a modern high-rise design with a sleek glass façade and metallic accents. It stands prominently against the Manhattan skyline, with balconies for some apartments. Mine is one of them.

Lucky for me, a couple of years ago, my living room was a crime scene I was called in to analyze. I offered the landlord a reduced rate, explaining it’d be hard for him to find a tenant who’d be willing to overlook the homicide that took place there. Since then, I’ve lived in an apartment that I otherwise couldn’t afford without resigning myself to processed noodles for the rest of my life.

As I enter the grand foyer of the building, the familiar luxury envelops me. The floor is a glossy expanse of marble, reflecting the soft glow of the pendant lights above. Art deco pieces line the walls—curated spots of color against the neutral tones of the interior.

The concierge nods at me with a practiced smile, his presence a steady constant. He flicks his gaze and jerks his chin to my left.

I follow the gesture to find the last person I want to see.

CHAPTER 5

Mason leans against one of the marble columns, his figure casual but out of place in the meticulously designed space. At the sight of him, a knot of annoyance tightens in my stomach.

Uninvited and unexpected.

I mask my irritation with a practiced smile, the kind I reserve for suspects who think they’ve outsmarted the system. Or me.

“Gen, hey!” Mason pushes off from the column, his smile wide.

“Hey,” I manage, my voice even. “What are you doing here? Were we supposed to meet, and I forgot?”

“No. I just wanted to surprise you.”

He steps closer with his arms lifted, as if seeking approval for his spontaneous visit. He’s not going to get it from me. Maybe on another night when I’m in need of physical relief my vibrator can’t provide. But I doubt I’ll be able to orgasm because of all the stress due to my impending interview with Ghost.

Although… his piercing eyes and muscular body might do the trick.

“Consider yourself successful,” I reply dryly, moving past Mason and leading the way to the elevators.

We ascend in silence, the digital numbers ticking off the floors too slowly. By the time the elevator dings at my floor, I’ve mentally rehearsed how to cut this visit short.

Stepping into my apartment, my body almost relaxes from simply being back in my own space. The living room, once marked by tragedy, now boasts a tasteful minimalism, large windows casting light across the wooden floors, the city’s pulse a backdrop. It’s welcoming and my version of cozy.

Or it will be when Mason leaves.

Walking over to the side table, I set my bag down with a little more force than necessary. Then I head over to the kitchen to put some space between us and grab a glass of water.

He removes his jacket and tosses it over the back of my couch, as though settling in. I sigh internally, tapping my fingers against the countertop.

I’m of half a mind to fuck him just so he’ll go, but I can’t summon the energy.

“Look, Mason, I’m not in a good headspace right now.” I turn to face him fully. “I have a ton of prep to do for a big interview tomorrow with a fucked-up inmate. It’s really not a good time.”

“Well, shit. I’m sorry to hear that. Are you going to be okay?”

I shrug off his concern, along with my twinge of guilt for being so distant with him. It’s the only way I can do relationships. If you can even call it that.

“I will be. I don’t have a choice,” I say. “He won’t speak to anyone else.”

“That’s weird. Why?”

“Wish I knew.”

Mason comes around the counter, trapping me as he steps close and rests his hand on the curve of my waist. I go rigid at his nearness and immediately scold myself. Physical connection is all I’ve ever asked from this man. I can’t be upset when he seeks me out for that very reason.

“You know, I’m more than happy to rid you of the stress you’re feeling.” After tugging me toward him, he grazes my ear with his lips.

My heart beats faster at his touch. Not with anticipation. With a vague sense of dread.