Read Online Closer Than Blood by Gregg Olsen - Free Book Online Page A

said. “I think he had dark eyes, but they might have been dark blue or green.”
    The response could have not been more ambiguous.
    At least she didn’t say “red,” thereby ruling out an albino assailant, he thought.
    â€œCould you determine his ethnicity?”
    She looked at the reporting officer, almost blank eyed. “Not really. He had on a mask.”
    This was the first time she’d mentioned a mask. Kaminski underlined that.
    â€œSki mask?” he repeated.
    The wheels were turning now. Tori was retrieving some information. A pause, then an answer. “Not sure. More like a panty hose. I could see his face, but his features were smushed by the fabric.”
    â€œHad you seen anyone in the area who matches—to the best of your recollection—what you saw that night?”
    The question was bait, and usually good bait. A suspect frequently takes the suggestion and runs with it.
    â€œHe looked like a gardener.”
    â€œA man who delivers groceries.”
    â€œA transient I’ve seen a time or two nearby.”
    Tori went limp. A tear rolled down her cheek.
    â€œYou’re going to have to give me a minute. This is extremely difficult.”
    Kaminski waited for her to collect herself. Her eyes were damp with tears, but none flowed down her cheeks. She was a coolheaded woman, a logical woman. She’d expected the worst and had prepared herself for the moment when she’d knew with certainty, with utter conviction, that she was alone in the world.
    What came from her lips next would have been stunning to the most veteran detective.
    â€œI’ll need a lawyer,” she said. “Won’t I?”
    â€œWhy would that be?” he asked.
    â€œJust call it a hunch,” she said, this time looking directly at him. “You’ll focus the investigation on me. I understand it. I know how things are done. In the end, you’ll have to look elsewhere because I had nothing to do with any of this.”
    â€œNo one is looking at you,” Kaminski said.
    She looked past him once more, breaking the gaze they’d held. “Not now. But tomorrow somone will. Someone will say the ugliest things and your minions will circle me and my tragedy like a school of sharks. Each after a piece.”
    She stopped talking.
    Kaminski stood there in uncomfortable silence.
    â€œDetective,” she finally said. “I want to know one thing.”
    â€œWhat’s that?”
    â€œHow am I supposed to live without him? He was my soul mate. I loved him.”
    Tears started rolling down her cheeks.
    â€œAgain, I’m truly sorry for your loss,” he said, taking a couple of steps backward before turning for the door.
    She looked back at the sky through the window, turning to the blush of a new day. “Thank you, Detective,” she said.

    The beige Princess phone next to Tori O’Neal Connelly’s bedside rang. She smoothed her covers and disregarded it for a moment. But the ring was persistent and altogether annoying. She reached for it, wincing with the pain that came with stretching skin that had been sutured. She assumed it was a nurse or, as she liked to call them, an attendant from the hospital. She planned on telling whoever it was that she would make an outgoing call if she wanted anything. Tori was never shy about indicating whatever it was she wanted. Her heart’s desire was hardwired to her mouth.
    As she clasped the receiver to her ear, nurse Diana Lowell entered the room.
    â€œHello,” Tori said into the mouthpiece. She shifted her body in the bed. Immediately, her face froze. She turned away from the nurse who was emptying a plastic bag liner brimming with used tissues and other nonsharps into a large disposal can.
    â€œYes,” she said.
    Her voice was low. Not a whisper, but if Diana Lowell had actually tried to listen, it would have taken considerable effort.
    â€œUnderstood,” she said, her eyes fixed