Read Online A Perfect Evil by Alex Kava - Free Book Online

of the collar of her inside-out sweater and the two mismatched shoes. She had been in a state of shock, disguised by a calm Nick found more spooky than reassuring.
    Her calm remained throughout the week. She had portrayed an unflinching rock of strength, pouring coffee and baking rolls for the men who had filled her small house each day. Had she displayed some form of emotion, perhaps it wouldn’t have been so difficult, moments ago, when he had watched this same stately woman bend in two and crumple to the cold, hard floor of the hospital morgue. Her cries had sliced through the sterilized halls. Nick recognized that sound. It was the low-pitched scream of a wounded animal. No woman should have to face what Laura Alverez faced alone. Now he wished they had located her ex-husband, just so he could beat the crap out of him.
    “Morrelli.” Bob Weston came into Nick’s office without knocking or waiting for an invitation. He plopped down in the chair across from Nick. “You should go home. Shower, change clothes. You stink.”
    He watched Weston dig the exhaustion out of his eyes and decided he was only stating facts, instead of hurling more insults.
    “What about the ex-husband?”
    Weston looked up at him and shook his head. “I’m a father, Nick. I don’t care how pissed off he might be with his wife—I just don’t think a father could do that to his kid.”
    “So where do we begin?” He must be tired, Nick realized. He was actually asking for Weston’s advice.
    “I’d start with a list of known sex offenders, pedophiles and child pornographers.”
    “That could be a long list.”
    “Excuse me, Nick,” Lucy Burton interrupted from the doorway. “Just wanted to let you know that all four Omaha TV stations and both Lincoln stations are downstairs with camera crews. There’s also a hallful of newspaper and radio people. They’re asking about a statement or press conference.”
    “Shit,” Nick muttered. “Thanks, Lucy.” He watched Weston twist in his chair to follow Lucy’s long legs down the hall. Maybe he should talk to her about the short skirts and stiletto heels now that they would be making the news. What a shame. She had lovely legs and a walk trained to show them off.
    “We’ve avoided the press all week,” Nick said, returning his gaze to Weston. “We’re gonna have to talk to them.”
    “I agree. You need to talk to them.”
    “Me? Why me? I thought you were the hotshot expert.”
    “That was when it was a kidnapping. Now it’s a homicide, Morrelli. Sorry, this is your ball game.”
    Nick slumped back in his chair, leaning his head into the leather and swiveling from side to side. This couldn’t be happening. Soon he’d wake up in bed with Angie Clark beside him. God, last night seemed like a lifetime ago.
    “Look, Morrelli.” Weston’s voice was soft, sympathetic, and Nick eyed him suspiciously without lifting his head. “I’ve been thinking. This being a kid and all, maybe I could request someone to help you put together a profile.”
    “What do you mean?”
    “It may be too early for people to start noticing the similarities to Jeffreys, but when they do, you’re going to have a frenzy on your hands.”
    “A frenzy?” Frenzies weren’t part of his training. Nick swallowed the sour taste in his mouth. Suddenly, he was nauseated again. He could still smell Danny Alverez’s blood soaked into his jeans.
    “We have experts who can put together a psychological profile of this guy. Narrow things down for you. Give you a fuckin’ idea of who this asshole is.”
    “Yeah, that would help. That would be good.” Nick kept the desperation out of his voice. Now was not the time to reveal his weakness, despite Weston’s sudden compassion.
    “I’ve been reading about this Special Agent O’Dell, an expert in profiling murderers practically right down to their shoe size. I could call Quantico.”
    “How soon do you think they could get someone here?”
    “Don’t let Tillie