Read Online Hotter After Midnight by Cynthia Eden - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Cynthia Eden
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could make his way over to Emily. She watched him with lowered brows as he approached, her lips slightly pursed.
Colin crossed to Emily’s side, deliberately positioning himself next to her.
Brooks held out his hand. “Dr. Drake, I’ve heard a lot about you.” He flashed his pretty-boy smile. “I’m Colin’s partner, Detective Todd Brooks.”
Emily took his hand, held it for all of three seconds— yeah, he counted —then pulled away. “Nice to meet you, Detective.” Her hair was still loose around her shoulders and the lenses of her glasses glinted faintly in the light. Her stare fell on Danny. “Will Detective Brooks be joining us for the briefing?”
“Ah, no, he—”
“I’ve got orders to head home tonight,” Brooks murmured. “But I’ll look forward to discussing the case with you soon.”
She nodded.
Brooks gave a little salute. “Night, guys.” Then he turned on his heel and headed for the exit.
Emily stepped back into her makeshift office. Colin and Danny crowded in behind her. When Colin kicked the door closed, the bustle of noise from the station immediately quieted.
“So what do you have for us, Doc?” he asked, his gaze dropping to the crime scene photos spread across her desk.
Her hand lifted and she tucked a stray strand of hair behind her ear. “I’ve got a basic profile going so far. You’re probably looking for a male—but you already knew that. Shifters are predominately male. And in this case, the killer had to be damn strong to overpower Preston. Another point for a man. The level of raw violence is also an indicator that the perp is male.”
Yeah, Colin had already guessed they were looking for a guy. “Keep going.”
“The killer’s young, probably in his mid-twenties to late thirties, and it’s a good bet that he lives in the area.”
“How do you know he’s not a drifter?” the captain asked, and Colin knew he was hoping the killer was a one-hit wonder who’d just been passing through.
“He knew the house,” Emily explained. “Knew the neighborhood. Knew how to get in and out without being seen. This guy knew Preston. He’s not an out-of-towner who just popped in and randomly decided to murder the vic.” And stranger crimes didn’t usually have this dangerous level of rage.
“Well, shit.” McNeal looked even more disgruntled than usual. “There’ve been some rumblings upstairs about this guy being a serial.” He leveled a hard look at the doc. “You told me before you thought he’d do it again.”
“Yes, I did.” Her lips pursed. “But so far, this guy doesn’t fit the strict definition of a serial.”
“You mean because he hasn’t killed three people?” Colin asked.
She nodded. “The FBI requires three victims before the label of serial killer can be applied. So far, we’ve only got one body.”
The doc was holding back. He could feel it. “But?”
“But I think he’s killed before.” She touched the security photo of the hooded figure entering the Myers house. “This guy is confident. He had his plan in mind, probably for days before the actual attack. And there were no hesitation wounds on the victim’s body.” Her tongue snaked out, licked her bottom lip. “He went straight for the kill. This guy’s no amateur, no first-timer feeling his way. He knows exactly what he’s doing.”
“But until we find more bodies, we can’t say he’s a serial,” McNeal muttered.
“Right.”
Colin didn’t think that was a particularly bad thing. The public tended to panic when they got news that a serial killer was on the streets, and a panicked public could be very dangerous.
“If he is a true serial killer, he won’t attack anyone else right away. He’ll wait and have a cooling-off time. Could be for a few days or it could be years.” She began to straighten the photos, putting them into a nice, neat pile. “Course, since the guy’s a shifter, the normal serial rules might not apply at all.”
“What rules would
Colin crossed to Emily’s side, deliberately positioning himself next to her.
Brooks held out his hand. “Dr. Drake, I’ve heard a lot about you.” He flashed his pretty-boy smile. “I’m Colin’s partner, Detective Todd Brooks.”
Emily took his hand, held it for all of three seconds— yeah, he counted —then pulled away. “Nice to meet you, Detective.” Her hair was still loose around her shoulders and the lenses of her glasses glinted faintly in the light. Her stare fell on Danny. “Will Detective Brooks be joining us for the briefing?”
“Ah, no, he—”
“I’ve got orders to head home tonight,” Brooks murmured. “But I’ll look forward to discussing the case with you soon.”
She nodded.
Brooks gave a little salute. “Night, guys.” Then he turned on his heel and headed for the exit.
Emily stepped back into her makeshift office. Colin and Danny crowded in behind her. When Colin kicked the door closed, the bustle of noise from the station immediately quieted.
“So what do you have for us, Doc?” he asked, his gaze dropping to the crime scene photos spread across her desk.
Her hand lifted and she tucked a stray strand of hair behind her ear. “I’ve got a basic profile going so far. You’re probably looking for a male—but you already knew that. Shifters are predominately male. And in this case, the killer had to be damn strong to overpower Preston. Another point for a man. The level of raw violence is also an indicator that the perp is male.”
Yeah, Colin had already guessed they were looking for a guy. “Keep going.”
“The killer’s young, probably in his mid-twenties to late thirties, and it’s a good bet that he lives in the area.”
“How do you know he’s not a drifter?” the captain asked, and Colin knew he was hoping the killer was a one-hit wonder who’d just been passing through.
“He knew the house,” Emily explained. “Knew the neighborhood. Knew how to get in and out without being seen. This guy knew Preston. He’s not an out-of-towner who just popped in and randomly decided to murder the vic.” And stranger crimes didn’t usually have this dangerous level of rage.
“Well, shit.” McNeal looked even more disgruntled than usual. “There’ve been some rumblings upstairs about this guy being a serial.” He leveled a hard look at the doc. “You told me before you thought he’d do it again.”
“Yes, I did.” Her lips pursed. “But so far, this guy doesn’t fit the strict definition of a serial.”
“You mean because he hasn’t killed three people?” Colin asked.
She nodded. “The FBI requires three victims before the label of serial killer can be applied. So far, we’ve only got one body.”
The doc was holding back. He could feel it. “But?”
“But I think he’s killed before.” She touched the security photo of the hooded figure entering the Myers house. “This guy is confident. He had his plan in mind, probably for days before the actual attack. And there were no hesitation wounds on the victim’s body.” Her tongue snaked out, licked her bottom lip. “He went straight for the kill. This guy’s no amateur, no first-timer feeling his way. He knows exactly what he’s doing.”
“But until we find more bodies, we can’t say he’s a serial,” McNeal muttered.
“Right.”
Colin didn’t think that was a particularly bad thing. The public tended to panic when they got news that a serial killer was on the streets, and a panicked public could be very dangerous.
“If he is a true serial killer, he won’t attack anyone else right away. He’ll wait and have a cooling-off time. Could be for a few days or it could be years.” She began to straighten the photos, putting them into a nice, neat pile. “Course, since the guy’s a shifter, the normal serial rules might not apply at all.”
“What rules would
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