She leaned against the lamppost at the corner of Ninth and Perkins and pulled her coat tighter. The December wind that whistled around the deserted storefronts and run-down apartment buildings lining the street sent a shiver down her spine. Unlike other neighborhoods in Lake City, there were no holiday decorations anywhere in sight. In fact, nothing about her surroundings gave a hint that Christmas was only a few weeks away.

A young man's lifeless body sprawled twenty feet away spoke volumes about what life was like in this part of the city. Several uniformed policemen stood to the side as crime scene investigators gathered their evidence.

Her stomach rumbled and she pressed her hand against her abdomen to suppress the hunger pains. Coffee would have to come later. As chief investigative reporter for the Lake City Daily Beacon, her job was to cover the news.

One of the policemen backed away, and Rachel caught sight of the victim's leg twisted underneath him. She made a quick note in her journal of his white canvas tennis shoe with a five-pointed star on the side—one of the identifying marks of the Vipers, the gang that boasted control of this neighborhood.

She pursed her lips and tried to mentally recall how many gang-related deaths she'd reported in the past two months. Four? No, five. This one made the sixth victim.

A car pulled to a stop across the street and Detective Matt Franklin stepped out from the driver's side. He tugged at the cuffs of a white shirt and they slipped over his wrists from underneath the sleeves of his navy blazer. Even this early in the morning he looked like he belonged in a