Read Online Absolute Instinct by Robert W. Walker - Free Book Online

that... That he likes his blood thick and congealed. Consomme as opposed to bisque, cold as opposed to liking it fresh and hot.” “But why? Where... I mean how does any man ever get such a notion?” Darwin asked.
    “ Rather, how does any man act on such a notion?”
    Sands's voice, as he continued to tape, interrupted their conversation, “Serious blow to the head appears to have been caused by a blunt instrument, possibly a tool such as a hammer, given the diameter of the wound.”
    SOME time had passed as they processed the crime scene when Ira Sands shattered the silence. “With what we now have, Dr. Coran, I believe we can begin thinking of closing this crime scene down.”
    “ I'm in agreement.”
    “ And back at the morgue, if you will follow my lead, I feel we can get most, if not all, necessary tests under way. Unless you care to lead this dance.”
    “ Generous of you to offer, Dr. Sands, but no, I am happy to follow your lead, sir.”
    “ Are you all right?” he asked. “You look a bit peaked. Airline food, perhaps?”
    “ No, I came by FBI jet. I will be fine, really.”
    “ That was some operation you performed, separating flesh from carpet. Enough to excuse anyone a bit of queasiness, my dear.”
    Jessica had again been staring at the enormous gash to Joyce Olsen's backside, the missing serpentine section of flesh that left a gaping hole large enough for a small animal to climb into. She thought of the dog trapped with the dead woman for over a week. Out of one eye, she saw the bag with the flesh in it being forced down into a large Tupperware container, the lid snapped and patted down by Agent Petersaul.
    “ Tupperware party?” joked another agent with Petersaul.
    “ I'm hosting a big one,” she snapped back.
    Light laughter followed.
    “ Is it all right?” Ira Sands was saying to Jessica. She only half heard him. “Do you understand?” he continued in her ear.
    Jessica could not recall the last time the sight of a wound had so disturbed her to the core. Jaded, having seen so much, it crept up on little cat feet, this dizzying combination of clamminess, perspiration, and nausea. Surprised she could still get this affected, her thoughts returned to her first FBI case: the body of a young woman called Candy found hanging by her ankles, the fly infested leavings of Mad Matthew Matisak after he'd jammed his now-infamous handheld Spigot into her jugular, in order to control the flow of her blood as he robbed her of every ounce.
    It had been Jessica, the novice FBI M.E. who had discovered the small, telltale hole made by the spigot within the massive throat slashing, which had been done to mask the mark of the spigot. But while she eventually put him away, it had been at a dear price, losing her first real love to Matisak's madness.
    He had maimed her physically, too. She'd had to use a cane for almost two years following his attack on her. To this day, the psychological scars he'd inflicted remained.
    She felt some strange and eerie connection here but could not make it out. Just a feeling, a foolish one, as foolish as Darwin's notion that the killer was like the Claw. This maniac was no Matisak, either. Still, she felt the same iciness and fear of this demon as she had with Matisak. She felt it in her throat, her chest, her heart and her stomach.
    “ Come now, Dr. Coran,” said Sands in a bid to help color return to her face. “I've read your book. You've seen bodies without hearts, others missing their brains even.”
    “ All... all the... same, not... notwithstanding, I fear, Dr. Sands, I'm feeling just a might... light-headed.” She finished with a little gasp.
    “ Go out and come back in. No one else need know. Go,” he encouraged her.
    She stared into his kind eyes, studying them, as another voice inside her head advised she stand her ground—her father's voice. Her tough, uncompromising military father's old advice. He, too, had seen some awful deaths—horrid battlefield