The Killing Ground: A Foxx Files Thriller Read Free

curled up into the semblance of a wicked grin. “I want to catch her off guard. She’s more likely to let something slip if she isn’t expecting us.”
    Matt smiled. In the five years he and Jordan had worked together, he had grown to appreciate her sixth sense. It had helped them out of more than one tight spot, and he wasn’t about to start doubting it now. If Jordan wanted to make an early morning visit, then he was all for it. Besides, from the sound of things, they were going to need every advantage available. 
     

Chapter 2
     
    Jordan pushed a hand through her dark hair, trying to brush it out of her blue eyes. She was weeks past needing a haircut, which only added to her street hardened look. She flicked her eyes to her wrist, noting that Matt was his typical ten minutes late. Per Assistant Director Mitchell, she and Matt were getting an early start on last night’s case. She pulled Detective Rebecca Foxx’s card out of her leather jacket and fingered the plain type. She wasn’t sure what kind of woman she expected Detective Foxx to be, but she was pretty damn sure she wasn’t going to like the FBI’s intrusion into her case.
    She shoved the card back in her pocket and let out a loud breath. “Fuck, Matty, where are you?”
    As if hearing her sharp words, he came tearing into the parking lot, bringing his car to a screeching halt beside Jordan. He exited the car with a sheepish grin. “Sorry, Jordie. I was getting fuel.” He handed her a cup of coffee and loped around to the other side of her Nissan. “Come on, we’re late.”
    Jordan grunted loudly, stifling her biting reply. They rode in silence to the Area 5 on Grand. The Chicago Detective Division, or CDD, was located in Area 5 of the Chicago grid. Grand Central, as dubbed by its location on Grand, covered all of northwest side of the City. It was part of the Bureau of Investigative Services or BIS. Detective Foxx worked in the Detective Division. The CDD handled the criminal investigations for crimes such as murder, rape or those related to narcotics, gangs or organized crime.
    Jordan pulled into a freight zone on Racine Street and stuck an FBI parking tag in her window. She caught Matt looking at her comically. “What?” She asked innocently.
    He rolled his eyes. “Nothing.”
    Her only response was a smirk. Hell, Jordan knew if they couldn’t use their position with the FBI for something as harmless as parking in a freight zone, she knew there was no chance the FBI’s name would carry much weight with the Chicago Police Department either.
    Jordan wasn’t sure what she expected to find when they walked into the precinct, but none of the Barney Fife misconceptions existed here. She glanced quickly around a small waiting area then focused her attention on the officer who occupied a small corner of the room. Jordan knew the CDD would resent their intrusion. She cast a smile in his direction, hoping that the smallest civility would work to smooth over their involvement. “I’m Special Agent Gray, and this is Special Agent Riley with the FBI.” They flashed their badges briefly, more in a show of attempted camaraderie than necessity, as the FBI’s jurisdiction outweighed the CDD’s territory. “We’d like to speak with Detective Foxx.”
    Had Jordan not been paying rapt attention to his response in an effort to gauge the request, she might have missed the almost imperceptible rise in his eyebrow. She decided to attribute it to the FBI’s surprise visit and not as his opinion of Detective Foxx. She would wait and make her own opinion. She knew all too well that while women had made it a long way in a man’s world, yet they continued to struggle with narrow—minded assholes that still felt a woman’s place was at home. Perhaps Detective Foxx had bucked the system and the opinion that her fellow detectives and officers shared was that of a woman who was more forthright than she should be—a bitch to put it simply. Whatever the case, she