Page 13 of Game Master
After swinging her legs over the side of the mattress, Roseline shuffled to the bathroom and flicked on the light, squinting against the sudden brightness. The face staring back at her from the mirror looked haggard and depleted. How long since she last ate something?
Turning on the faucet, she splashed some icy water on her face before patting it dry with a towel. As she tamed her messy pale locks into a loose braid, Roseline’s thoughts returned to the unsettling live stream footage that had kept her transfixed in appalled horror last night.
The utter sadism of the Game Master, coupled with the emotional apathy of his paying spectators—who even offered suggestions to enhance the “show,” proved that humanity’s capacity for depravity knew no bounds when cloaked by anonymity. She had witnessed the depths of cruelty lurking unseen in the virtual underworld before but never orchestrated with such meticulous, malevolent intent.
This was no crime of passion or momentary lapse of conscience. The Game Master possessed a warped intellect and an absence of empathy, treating his victims like disposable pawns and assets instead of living, feeling people. That degree of psychopathy chilled Roseline to her core.
But she wouldn’t let the fear paralyze her. She had to cling to her outrage, channeling it constructively into catching this monster before the bloodshed expanded unchecked. With a weary sigh, Roseline trudged back into her bedroom and threw on some clothes—dark jeans, a crimson top, and a black jacket. As she tied her sneakers, her cell phone chimed from the nightstand.
She glanced at the screen and saw a new message from Detective Hemlock. “Morning, Miss Fontenot. I wanted to fill you in on a development from last night’s fieldwork once you’re back at the station. Let me know when you get in. Stay safe.”
A flutter of anticipation stirred in her chest as she read his name… twice. They only started working together on the Game Master case, but an undeniable rapport had already grown between herself and the intuitive detective.
At first, she’d been reticent to team up with the newcomer, wary of letting her guard down with someone she didn’t know well. Especially when dealing with a case this perilous. But Callan’s respectful patience and lack of ego eased her uncertainty. It was a welcome change from the arrogant, dismissive attitude of some of her colleagues.
Together, their opposite skill sets may prove complementary. What Callan lacked in technical prowess, he made up for with his street smarts and knack for reading people, and Roseline found his thoughtful questions and empathetic nature made explaining cyber security concepts less tedious. He listened and learned instead of condescending. The balance of hard and soft skills between them laid the beginning of a foundation of trust.
Of course, his striking good looks didn’t hurt either. More than once, Roseline had caught herself admiring the way his wavy brown hair framed those intense, ocean-blue eyes that always seemed to see straight through to her core. And his muscular arms were certainly on display in the tight Henley shirts he often wore around the office when the day got balmy.
But Roseline promptly shut down that train of thought. The job came first, period. She couldn’t complicate an important case by indulging in any flutter of attraction, no matter how tempting. There were too many lives in peril to get distracted.
Shaking her head clear, Roseline quickly typed a reply to Callan, letting him know she was just leaving for the station. She looked forward to hearing his update. She pocketed her phone and keys, then headed for the front door of her small house, hoping the fresh air would further wake her from her lingering grogginess.
The morning sun momentarily blinded her as she stepped outside and locked the door behind her. Blinking against the glare, Roseline set off down the front walkway toward where her little black car waited by the curb. The neighborhood seemed deceptively tranquil, with birds chirping and neighbors retrieving their newspapers. Hard to believe a sadistic killer was on the loose somewhere in their city. But only she and Callan were aware of that disturbing truth.
Settling into the driver’s seat and igniting the engine, Roseline backed out onto the street and headed for the station. She kept the windows down, letting the warm spring air whip through her braided hair.
In any other circumstance, she would have stopped to grab an iced latte and soak up the nostalgia those sensory cues always evoked within her. But as it was, she drove onward, intent on reaching the station. She knew Callan was eager to share whatever new information his investigative efforts had uncovered, and frankly, she was impatient to return to combing through the digital evidence herself. Sitting idle made her antsy.
At last, Roseline arrived at the imposing stone building that served as NOPD headquarters. Parking in her usual spot, she hurried inside. Roseline walked briskly, avoiding eye contact, until she reached the small office tucked away on the third floor, the one she had claimed as her own.
Sure enough, Callan was already waiting for her, sitting on the edge of her desk with two paper cups of coffee from the café down the street cradled in his large hands. He stood up as she entered, his handsome face breaking into a smile that lit up his deep blue eyes.
“Hey, good morning,” he said warmly, offering her one of the cups. “Thought you could use a little caffeine boost.”
“You’re a mind reader,” she replied gratefully, accepting the coffee. She took a sip, savoring the bold flavor. “I was dragging myself out of bed this morning, so this is perfect. Thank you.”
“Long night catching up to you?” His smile turned sympathetic.
She sighed and took a seat in her chair. “You could say that. My brain felt like sludge when my alarm went off. Never a good sign. What about you? Please tell me you got some good sleep, too.”
Callan laughed. “I got a few good hours in. Being out in the field was rejuvenating. Nothing like pounding the pavement when you’re stuck on a case.”
Roseline felt a small twinge in her chest at the reminder that Callan had continued the investigative work while she was sleeping off her overnight stint at her computer screens. Rationally, she knew they each had unique skills suited to different environments. She couldn’t very well stake out seedy bars and back alleys frequented by the criminal underworld.
Still, though, being forced to sit idle from the future action would make her restless. This was her city, her case. From here on out, she should be involved in chasing down every lead.
Roseline tried to keep any trace of resentment from creeping into her voice as she asked, “So, I take it your fieldwork was productive if it has you so energized?”
Callan tilted his head, reading her transparent attempt at nonchalance. “I know you’ve been working yourself to exhaustion tracking this psycho’s initial digital trail. That’s huge. I thought some time recharging away from the screens would do you good. And honestly, the places Brandon and I visited to gather street intel, they’re rough. As experienced detectives, we know how to work those contacts safely and subtly. But a woman, a beautiful woman, would have drawn too much dangerous attention that could have jeopardized the investigation.”
She didn’t know how to react to his compliment. It had no place in their professional relationship, but she hadn’t expected to find out he found her attractive. It was thrilling, in an uncomfortable sort of way.
He gave her an earnest look. “Believe me, I wanted your amazing brain by my side. But I also didn’t want to put you at risk unnecessarily when you needed some rest. I figured we could keep pressing forward through old-fashioned legwork while you regain your strength. You’re the best one to catch traces of this monster online, and we need you at 100 percent.”
His protectiveness should have annoyed her, but instead, Roseline felt oddly reassured by his concern for her well-being, even if it was unnecessary. Plus, she knew how to handle creeps in questionable parts of town. But it was still thoughtful of him to consider her comfort.
“I appreciate you looking out for me,” she acknowledged.