Perfect Victim (Nadia Stafford 3.6)

"Angela took on these cases, and now she's determined to keep them, despite the fact it endangers her life."

"Fucking stupid, huh?" Even as he shook his head, his voice swelled with pride.

"Not exactly a wise survival strategy," I said. "But she does deserve help."

"That's what I hoped you'd say. So here's the deal. I'll fly you both to Hawaii. First class, round trip, best fucking hotels they got, all expenses paid. And that's on top of the hit, which will be double your usual rate, for the inconvenience of a rush job."

Jack glanced at me. When he started to nod, I cut in with, "We'll think about it."

Jack's brows arched. He knew this was exactly the sort of job I'd want. But so did anyone who knew my professional reputation.

"One more hour," I said. "You'll have your answer in an hour."

Chapter Six

Nadia

"You want to research it first," Jack said as we headed to our chalet.

"I do."

He nodded. "Yeah, you're right. Shouldn't have jumped like that."

I looped my arm through his. "You knew I'd want it."

"You do, right?"

"All-expenses-paid first-class trip to Hawaii? Hell, yeah."

His look said I could get that anytime. I would argue that having someone else foot the bill eased the voice that fretted about how much of "his" money we spent. But I knew what he meant.

"Yes," I said. "This woman is taking personal risk to help others when no one else will. Like I said, that deserves help. And someone is killing people for doing their damned jobs? That deserves stopping--permanently, if necessary. But I'm still worried."

"That Cypher's bullshitting. That it's a trap."

"We all have our weaknesses. We expose them with every choice we make. Anyone who's done basic research on 'Dee' knows she'd drool over this one. So there's no way I'm going to say yes until I've done some basic research myself."

Cypher hadn't been lying. There was a killer stalking representatives of the Honolulu family court system.

It began a year ago with the apparent suicide of a social worker. Fifty-year-old Mindy Lang had been found dead in her carbon-monoxide-filled car. The profession suffered from one of the highest incidences of burnout and depression, and Mindy had recently gone through a divorce herself, so no one questioned the initial findings.

Three months later, Albert Kim, a family court judge died in what looked like another suicide, this one death-by-gunshot. That case, though, gave the authorities pause. The deceased was a very successful judge, who'd been about to buy his dream home. Suicide didn't fit. That led to deeper investigation and the discovery that it'd been a staged murder. The police then took another look at Mindy Lang, who had often worked with the murdered judge. An exhumation and secondary examination found bruises on her neck, plus signs that she'd been unconscious when she went into the car. That meant murder.

At this point, the killer must have realized that disguising the deaths as suicides was pointless. If anyone working in family law died under suspicious circumstances, the police were going to investigate.

The next target was a lawyer, Charles Atom. The killer booby-trapped the family grill with an explosive device. Atom's teenage daughter had been the one to open it. She'd been killed instantly. Atom, who'd been standing nearby, suffered head injuries, including the loss of an eye.

Atom's injuries meant he wasn't able to handle his clients' cases. When no one at his firm would take them, Angela Kamaka stepped forward. That, as Cypher said, made her a target. Six weeks ago, she came home to find her dog dead, poisoned. A week later, someone planted a bomb in her car, but by that point, she was already checking it before she turned the ignition. She'd found the device. Then someone had fired shots into her backyard, shattering the glass tumbler her live-in boyfriend was holding. He'd packed his bags and left, while she stood her ground, living under nightly police protection.

I was surfing through articles, making notes, when Jack came in and walked up behind me.

"Pack my sunscreen?" he said.

I craned my neck to look back at him. "I think so. Is that okay?"

"As long as you don't make me wear Hawaiian shirts."

"I won't make you wear any shirt at all." I stood and gave him a quick kiss. "Let's go talk to our new client."