Total pages in book: 63
Estimated words: 62847 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 314(@200wpm)___ 251(@250wpm)___ 209(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 62847 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 314(@200wpm)___ 251(@250wpm)___ 209(@300wpm)
She’d school the younger agents on the ins and outs of proper protocol, let you know which shortcuts were okay and which were not, and embarrass the hell out of you by being faster and stronger than most of the new recruits.
Then she’d bring in homemade muffins the next day. Good ones too.
Yep, Sheila was a certified badass at fifty.
Like everyone else, I loved her to bits.
She reminded me of my mom’s older sister, who we’d lost a few years back. My mom had always been a little scared of her sister Maggie, who had no children of her own. She was tough and authoritative. But she’d been the glue that held the family together.
The holidays just weren’t the same without her.
But I had a second family. My fellow agents were like blood relations to me. And Sheil was without a doubt the one that held us all together, through the hard times especially. I knew I wouldn’t have made it through this last year without her.
I wondered for a second what Sheil would think of my weird fixation on the gorgeous little waitress from The Jar. She’d probably smack the back of my head and tell me to snap out of it. And she’d be right.
Not that it would work. It would take more than a head slap to cure me. It had been less than twenty-four hours, and I hadn’t stopped thinking about the girl since I’d met her.
I’d already run a background check and come up with nothing. Maybe it didn’t matter for the case, but I had a funny hunch that there was something there to find. And I wanted to know all her secrets before I interviewed her again.
Oh yeah, I wanted to learn all about pretty little Casey Jones.
I rubbed my eyes and shut down the laptop, deciding to bring it home with me. I’d get a few hours of shut eye and then start up again.
Maybe I’d even make a house call. Run some surveillance.
Solve the mystery of Mason and his barely legal little house mate.
I grimaced at the word ‘mate,’ my thoughts immediately filling with vivid images of her ripe little body. And not just her body.
I was in those visions too.
Without even trying I could conjure up images of us together. Kissing. Rolling around together. Screwing like rabbits.
Jesus Conn, take a cold shower why don’t you?
Danny’s voice was in my head again. As usual, he called me on my shit. Even dead, he was a pain in my ass. But I knew he was right. I did the next best thing, splashing cold water on my face and head before I took to the road.
I drove home carefully, taking side roads. I was bone weary but I knew how to stay alert. It was part of the job. But I knew better than most that a car was a weapon and had to be treated with the same respect as a loaded firearm.
I left the windows open and left the radio off.
I was a longtime member of the insomnia club, so I knew the drill. But I had a feeling I was going to have no problem at all getting some sleep, middle of the day or not.
At home I didn’t bother to undress or shower. I just laid down and that was it. I was out.
I cracked my eyes open with a moan, blinking as I looked around the darkening room. It was already evening from the looks of it. My thoughts went immediately to her.
Yes, I was awake just in time for me to pay a little visit.
I smiled grimly at the thought. I was going to find out who killed that biker. And if Casey Jones was the key to that, so be it.
It had nothing to do with how appealing she was. Not a damn thing.
I’d protect her the way I would protect any other witness. No more, and no less.
I’d passed out with one foot on the floor. When was the last time I had slept that deeply? Years maybe. I stretched and kicked my shoes off.
Damn, I had slept like a rock.
A hot shower and two cups of coffee set me right. I checked my email, reviewing some of the forensic reports that were starting to come in.
No fingerprints on the body, but plenty of fibers. No DNA as of yet. Not surprisingly, the corpse had a blood alcohol level that would have sunk an elephant.
I shook my head. What a waste. Well, at least he hadn’t felt what they did to him after. I didn’t give a shit about the criminal element, but I didn’t think anyone deserved to die like that.
Cut up like a piece of meat.
It wasn’t just gruesome and violent. It was despicable. And something about it felt even more unhinged that the average murder scene.