Chapter 38

"I can smell blood, but not where it's coming from," Anderson said. "I don't see any blood at all."

Stern frowned. "I'll call a team in. Keep looking around for clues."

Leaving the living room, Anderson headed to the garage. Annie's car was still there. Well, he assumed it was her car.

His phone vibrated, and he pulled it out, smiling at the demand for information. Case just got weird, probably going to be a bit late. Sorry to screw up your plans.

Yeah, 'cause lace panties are more important than a possibly dead woman. Shut up, Sparkleson. If you're gone all night, I'll just enjoy the cake and champagne myself and text pictures.

Pictures had better include the panties. You in them, specifically.

I'm not sending you naughty pictures during work hours.

Boring.

You're the dirty slut, not me.