The doorbell rang as Jo Luckett was in the kitchen making coffee. She grabbed the cash she’d set out and ran barefoot through the apartment. She could smell the pizza even before she opened the door.
A few minutes later she carried the food into the kitchen, transferred a couple of slices to her plate, made a glass of iced tea and set the cinnamon sticks aside to have with coffee later. She carried her plate to the living room, plopped down on the sofa with her food and took her first bite before turning on the TV.
She’d been reading Stormchaser files all afternoon. Both the killer’s brutality and random choice of victims made it all the more important to take him down as soon as possible. Now she was ready to take a break.
But no sooner had she turned on the evening news than she realized they were airing coverage of the murders in Tulsa, Oklahoma. She upped the volume and took another bite, paying more attention to the tornado damage than she did to what the news anchor was saying. She’d grown up in California and gone from UCLA straight to FBI training. She’d only seen footage of tornadoes, had never been near one, and hoped she never had to be. They were horrifying enough on their own, without the added insult of living through such a storm only to be murdered in the aftermath.
The program continued with interviews with the Tulsa police chief and then members of one murder victim’s family. She finished her first piece of pizza and had started on her second when they segued to another piece of footage. When they mentioned the FBI investigation, she set the food aside and upped the volume. Within moments she saw a long shot of one man standing in the midst of a massive debris field. She could see the yellow crime scene tape around the area, and police cars parked out on the street, obviously to deter sightseers or locals who might interfere with the agents as they viewed the site. But when another man walked out from behind a broken wall, she froze.
It was Wade.
Sound faded as pain shot through her head hard and fast.
The scent of pizza was suddenly sickening.
She hadn’t seen him in over a year. He looked good. He looked fit. She wondered if he was happy, if he was seeing someone. What was that she’d told the Director?Oh, right.No problem, she’d said.Lord.What on earth had made her think she would ever be able to work in close quarters with her ex-husband?