Chapter Text
The rain had started just after midnight.
By the time Detective Agatha Harkness ducked beneath the yellow crime scene tape, the downpour had settled into a relentless drizzle that turned the alley into a slick mirror of red and blue police lights.
She hated rain.
It washed away footprints.
Destroyed blood spatter.
Ruined evidence.
Whoever had done this either had incredible luck...
...or impeccable timing.
She crouched beside the victim without waiting for the crime scene photographer to finish.
"Female," the medical examiner muttered. "Late thirties."
"I have eyes."
"So I've noticed."
Agatha smirked.
The woman lay on her back between two overflowing dumpsters, expensive suit soaked through, one heel missing. There wasn't much blood despite the obvious wound beneath her ribs.
Single stab.
Precise.
Professional.
"What've we got?"
Detective Jennifer Kale handed her a folder. "Claire Morgan. Assistant U.S. Attorney."
Agatha's eyebrows rose. "Well."
Jennifer nodded. "Exactly."
Federal.
Wonderful.
Which meant—
A black SUV rolled to a stop outside the alley.
Agatha sighed before anyone even stepped out. "There it is."
"What?"
"The headache."
Three people climbed out wearing dark jackets emblazoned with bold yellow letters.
FBI
Jennifer winced.
"Told you."
Leading them was a woman about Agatha's age, dark curls pulled into a low ponytail despite the rain. She walked with effortless confidence, boots splashing through puddles as though she owned every crime scene she'd ever entered.
Leather gloves.
Sharp jaw.
Warm brown eyes that somehow looked amused before she'd spoken a single word.
Agatha immediately disliked her.
The woman stopped just inside the tape.
"Detective Agatha Harkness?"
Agatha stood. "Depends who's asking."
"Special Agent Rio Vidal."
Of course she was pretty.
Because apparently the universe wasn't content with ruining Agatha's investigation—it had to make it distracting too.
Rio held out a hand.
Agatha looked at it.
Didn't shake it.
"I assume you're here to tell me this is federal."
Rio slowly lowered her hand. "I was."
"I've had enough caffeine today."
A few officers nearby pretended not to listen.
Rio glanced toward the body. "Our victim was involved in an ongoing federal corruption investigation."
"I'm aware of who she is."
"Then you understand why we're taking over."
Agatha laughed. It wasn't a pleasant sound. "No."
Rio blinked. "No?"
"No."
Silence.
Rain drummed against the dumpsters.
Finally, Rio smiled. "Oh."
"Oh?"
"You're going to be one of those detectives."
Agatha folded her arms. "And you're going to be one of those agents."
Rio tilted her head. "You don't know anything about me."
"I know you arrived twenty minutes after I did and already think this belongs to you."
"It does."
"I disagree."
"You don't have jurisdiction."
"I have a body."
Rio sighed. "This is going to be difficult."
"I certainly hope so."
Jennifer quietly backed away.
The officers suddenly found their shoes fascinating.
Rio took another slow look around the alley. "You've contaminated the scene."
Agatha stared. "...Excuse me?"
"You walked directly beside the victim."
"So did you."
"I stepped where your footprints already were."
Agatha hated that she'd noticed.
"I also noticed," Rio continued, "the scrape marks beneath the dumpster."
Agatha's eyes flicked down.
There they were.
Fresh.
Barely visible beneath the rainwater.
Damn.
Rio had spotted them first.
"I was getting to that."
"I'm sure."
Agatha smiled tightly. "I don't like you."
Rio smiled right back. "The feeling's mutual."
For the first time in months...
Agatha felt awake.
An hour later they stood shoulder to shoulder beneath the awning of a nearby café while forensic teams combed the alley.
Neither had spoken in nearly five minutes.
It was peaceful.
Until—
"You smoke?"
Agatha looked over.
Rio had somehow produced a packet of gum instead of cigarettes.
"No."
"You looked like you wanted one."
"I wanted silence."
Rio popped the gum into her mouth. "That's hurtful."
"You'll recover."
Probably.
Rio studied her from the corner of her eye. "You've solved thirty-eight homicide cases."
Agatha frowned. "You looked me up?"
"I read personnel files."
"Obsessive."
"Prepared."
"Nosy."
Rio shrugged. "You've never worked with federal agencies."
"I've avoided it."
"Intentionally?"
"Obviously."
Rio laughed.
It caught Agatha off guard.
Not loud.
Just genuine.
"You know," Rio said, "I read something else."
"Oh?"
"You've been written up six times."
"Seven."
Rio looked impressed. "You remembered."
"I appealed one."
"Successfully?"
"No." Agatha smirked.
"Worth trying."
Rio looked toward the alley.
"People say you're impossible."
"They're right."
"They also say you're the best detective in the city."
"They're also right."
There was an annoying confidence about her.
Not arrogance.
Certainty.
Rio seemed to appreciate it.
"So," Rio asked, "are we going to spend this investigation trying to prove who's smarter?"
Agatha met her eyes. "You'll lose."
Rio grinned. "You flirt with everyone who argues with you?"
Agatha blinked. "...What?"
"You've been smiling for the last ten minutes."
"I have not."
Rio's grin widened. "There it is again."
Agatha immediately looked away.
Impossible.
She had absolutely not smiled.
Had she?
No.
Definitely not.
Probably not.
Jennifer appeared beside them carrying a clear evidence bag. "You two done measuring each other's egos?"
Neither answered.
Jennifer sighed dramatically. "I'll take that as a no."
Inside the bag sat a silver fountain pen.
Engraved.
Expensive.
On the clip were three tiny initials.
E. M. V.
Rio's expression changed instantly. "Where did you find it?"
"Storm drain."
Agatha took the bag. "Know whose it is?"
Rio hesitated. "Maybe."
"You hesitated."
"I did."
"Which means you know."
Rio looked toward the flashing police lights. "If I'm right..." She turned back. "...this isn't one murder."
Agatha's stomach tightened. "What is it?"
Rio met her eyes. "It's the beginning of something much bigger."
And somewhere across the city...
Someone was already choosing their next victim.