Read Online Night Games by Crystal Jordan - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Crystal Jordan
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old.
He shook himself. “Okay, walk me through what you remember, and I’ll request the original files from New Orleans be dug out, dusted off, and sent over.”
She could probably recite everything that was in the files, but she didn’t say that. The FBI agents needed to see the paperwork for themselves. She didn’t mention that the pictures were of scenes that visited her nightmares. Looking down on Bess’s murdered corpse had disturbed her more than other atrocities she’d witnessed in her long life. War, famine, plague. She’d seen it all, but these four murders? They’d haunted her.
Why she knew to her bones that this wasn’t a copycat, she couldn’t say. It was him. How and why he’d ended up in Seattle, she didn’t know. But she’d find out when she caught him, locked him up, and threw away the key.
Finally.
It was strange having Selina Grayson in his office. She took up a lot more space than she should have, considering how petite she was.
Or maybe it was just Jack’s intense awareness of her that wouldn’t let him focus on anything but her. It wasn’t like him to have his mind drift off of work. When he was here, he was all here. Hell, when he wasn’t here, his thoughts were often preoccupied by his cases.
Usually, he liked it that way. It kept him from reminiscing about things he’d rather forget. If he kept busy, kept moving, he could outrun his ghosts. It had worked for him for almost two decades, so he went with it.
A short knock sounded on the door, and Peyton stepped in silently. He nodded to both of them, stroked his tie against his chest, and took the seat next to Selina. The man had a knack for fading into the woodwork when it suited him, and he made use of that talent. He was the most unassuming werewolf Jack had ever met.
Jack scrubbed a hand over the back of his neck and looked at Selina. “I know it was a long time ago, but is there anything you noticed that was different about this scene than the ones you handled in New Orleans? Anything you can remember would be helpful right now.”
Her dark gaze cooled until not a single expression showed. “I’m pretty clear on the details. Senility hasn’t gotten me yet.”
Peyton snorted, what passed as a smile for him fluttering the corners of his mouth, but he said nothing. Selina didn’t so much as crack a grin, her lips a flat line.
Jack might have attempted to tease her into a laugh if they’d been alone, but they weren’t, and what she’d said at the Winston residence told him she didn’t want anyone to know they’d slept together. He kept his voice even. “That’s good to hear. Were there any obvious differences between your cases in New Orleans and this one?”
“No.” She crossed her legs, and his gaze dropped to her slim thighs. Those legs had cinched around his waist last night while she lit him up with pleasure spells. His body reacted predictably to that little trip down memory lane, but he ignored it and forced himself to look at her face. Her gaze was clear and cold. “For each crime scene, there was an obvious entry point—window, back door, balcony. We were never sure how he got through people’s spell shields on their homes, but it’s possible his victims didn’t use them. After he entered the residence, he shot them twice. There was always a violent attack that included the use of black magic and—when the victims were Magickals—the application of sunlight or allergen metals, followed by draining the victim’s body in their own bed. There was never any sign of sexual assault. That seems consistent with what I saw today, though you’ll have to wait for Tess and your CSUs to get back to you for something more conclusive.”
“You know how long it takes to process a scene, but Dr. Jones should be done with the autopsy later today or tomorrow. Or Monday, since tomorrow’s Sunday. It depends on how large her backlog is.” He shrugged. Since she was a cop, he didn’t have to explain.
He shook himself. “Okay, walk me through what you remember, and I’ll request the original files from New Orleans be dug out, dusted off, and sent over.”
She could probably recite everything that was in the files, but she didn’t say that. The FBI agents needed to see the paperwork for themselves. She didn’t mention that the pictures were of scenes that visited her nightmares. Looking down on Bess’s murdered corpse had disturbed her more than other atrocities she’d witnessed in her long life. War, famine, plague. She’d seen it all, but these four murders? They’d haunted her.
Why she knew to her bones that this wasn’t a copycat, she couldn’t say. It was him. How and why he’d ended up in Seattle, she didn’t know. But she’d find out when she caught him, locked him up, and threw away the key.
Finally.
It was strange having Selina Grayson in his office. She took up a lot more space than she should have, considering how petite she was.
Or maybe it was just Jack’s intense awareness of her that wouldn’t let him focus on anything but her. It wasn’t like him to have his mind drift off of work. When he was here, he was all here. Hell, when he wasn’t here, his thoughts were often preoccupied by his cases.
Usually, he liked it that way. It kept him from reminiscing about things he’d rather forget. If he kept busy, kept moving, he could outrun his ghosts. It had worked for him for almost two decades, so he went with it.
A short knock sounded on the door, and Peyton stepped in silently. He nodded to both of them, stroked his tie against his chest, and took the seat next to Selina. The man had a knack for fading into the woodwork when it suited him, and he made use of that talent. He was the most unassuming werewolf Jack had ever met.
Jack scrubbed a hand over the back of his neck and looked at Selina. “I know it was a long time ago, but is there anything you noticed that was different about this scene than the ones you handled in New Orleans? Anything you can remember would be helpful right now.”
Her dark gaze cooled until not a single expression showed. “I’m pretty clear on the details. Senility hasn’t gotten me yet.”
Peyton snorted, what passed as a smile for him fluttering the corners of his mouth, but he said nothing. Selina didn’t so much as crack a grin, her lips a flat line.
Jack might have attempted to tease her into a laugh if they’d been alone, but they weren’t, and what she’d said at the Winston residence told him she didn’t want anyone to know they’d slept together. He kept his voice even. “That’s good to hear. Were there any obvious differences between your cases in New Orleans and this one?”
“No.” She crossed her legs, and his gaze dropped to her slim thighs. Those legs had cinched around his waist last night while she lit him up with pleasure spells. His body reacted predictably to that little trip down memory lane, but he ignored it and forced himself to look at her face. Her gaze was clear and cold. “For each crime scene, there was an obvious entry point—window, back door, balcony. We were never sure how he got through people’s spell shields on their homes, but it’s possible his victims didn’t use them. After he entered the residence, he shot them twice. There was always a violent attack that included the use of black magic and—when the victims were Magickals—the application of sunlight or allergen metals, followed by draining the victim’s body in their own bed. There was never any sign of sexual assault. That seems consistent with what I saw today, though you’ll have to wait for Tess and your CSUs to get back to you for something more conclusive.”
“You know how long it takes to process a scene, but Dr. Jones should be done with the autopsy later today or tomorrow. Or Monday, since tomorrow’s Sunday. It depends on how large her backlog is.” He shrugged. Since she was a cop, he didn’t have to explain.
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