“Rachel, that was the second psychologist you’ve scared away.” Stan hung up the phone and looked at her. “He just gave his demission. You wouldn’t happen to know why?”

“No idea,” said Rachel, sitting on his lap and looping her arms around his neck. “Give me a kiss, Agent Wheeler.”

“Is that how you ask for a raise?” Omar ducked through the door, briefcase swinging from his hand.

“Can’t you knock?” Rachel asked.

“It’s my office too.” Omar folded his tall frame into his chair and beamed. “Welcome back! So, how was the honeymoon?”

The door opened and Jessica Brami and Chris Winter came in. Chris stopped at Stan’s desk and dropped a folder on it.

“A new one?” Stan asked, pushing Rachel off his lap.

“No, an old one.” Chris sighed. “Remember Severina Kite?”

“The teenage prostitute from Atlanta. Any leads on her murder?” Stan flipped the dossier open and looked through it. “There is nothing new here.”

“We have nothing new. We know where she was killed, how she was killed, and where her body was dumped afterward, other than that, it’s a blank.” Chris sighed and then grinned at Rachel. “It’s good to have you two back. How was the honeymoon? Any pictures?”

“I want to see pictures!” Jessica chimed.

“I posted them all on my blog.” Rachel looked up at the silence and frowned. “I was joking,” she said.

“The honeymoon was great,” Stan said. “Quiet, peaceful, restful.”

“He couldn’t wait to get back.” Rachel grinned.

“So what are we doing with this case?” Stan asked Chris. “We’re missing persons, and this person is already found. It’s a case for the criminal now, for the local police.”

“Another girl’s gone missing,” Chris said.

“Is there a link?” Stan closed the folder and pushed it over the desk toward Chris.

“They had the same pimp. He’s the one who called me, actually.”

“Her pimp called you?” Rachel had thought she’d heard everything. “Who is he?”

“His name is Jesus,” said Chris. “He called me because I was the one who found Severina. He thinks someone is after his girls. He wants us to help him.”

Omar let out a low whistle. “It’s still a case for criminal, not us,” he said.

Chris shook his head. “Unless there’s someone missing. And another girl is missing. Jesus is worried.”

“Jesus is worried?” Rachel grabbed her purse from her desk. “Well, what are we waiting for, Chris? Take me to Jesus.”

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