Read Online Steele Resolve (The Detective Jasmine Steele Series Book 1) by Kimberly Amato - Free Book Online Page A

images of mutilation, at horrific sites, I find I have no emotion towards them. Am I abnormal? I can see these things on a daily basis and nothing boils in my chest. I used to let all these emotions wrap around me, consume me, and now – nothing. I wait, I stare and nothing. Maybe it is normal to become desensitized to this sort of thing, but I wish I wasn’t. Maybe I would feel more alive if these images bothered me. All I see as I stare at them is a poor victim in the wrong place at the wrong time. I see individuals who had their lives changed by one decision they thought was a normal one. So again I ask what the fuck is normal.
    Lying down on the couch, I place the photos on my chest. Maybe a closer look will allow me to see something, anything connecting them all together. Besides their appearance, nothing seems to jump out at me. All blonde, all blue eyes, all strangled and all are dead. Bodies cleaned of evidence. No sexual assault. No, nothing. I’m supposed to figure these things out yet, as I look at these images, it becomes increasingly possible I might never find the person responsible for their deaths. I’m not angry or upset. I’m almost indifferent, but I do worry about the perp still being on the street. It’s another irrational fear I’ve obtained over the years. Anything could hurt Chase, and I have to find a way to protect him from the bad guys. I love him with all of my heart and frankly, I have come to accept I need him as much as he needs me.
    Man my head hurts just thinking about it. I mean this meaning of life crap, the destiny, fate, and normal or abnormal – what the fuck does it all mean? I’m sure everyone has been through this, where you literally over think shit that has no reason to be thought about at all. I mean hell; we all do what we have to do to survive right? Yet, here I am thinking about things I cannot control. Why? Because I want to control them. I need to feel in control.
     

Chapter Four
     
    Coffee, sweet smelling and loving coffee. The one thing that I can always count on is the deliciously addicting warm liquid to quench my early morning thirst. Not to mention it keeps my ass awake all day considering all the restless nights I’ve had. If there was a way to stay awake, eliminating those nightmares, I would do it. Coffee just seems to quiet the brain for the daylight hours, which helps. My biggest concern is that of the creator of said brew. If it’s the mischievous little nephew of mine, I face a morning of sludge sliding down into the pit of my gut. If it’s not him, then I face Frankie and I’m always awkward around her. Neither possibility is really appealing at the moment.
    “I know you’re awake,” Frankie softly utters, “Your nostrils flare at the smell of it, so don’t pretend you’re asleep. Get up or I pour it on your head.”
    Eyes pop open to see a nice steaming pot of coffee in front of my face. Frankie moves it before I get a chance to fully register the pots location. “Better. Good morning.” She turns away and heads to the kitchen to pour the coffee into a mug. I’m all for having large mug but I do not drink it from the pot. My mother taught me better than that. I’d use a straw.
    “Morning,” I rub the sleeplessness out of my eyes and force myself to sit up. I can hear Frankie in the kitchen fumbling around with the cabinet full of mugs.
    “You still drink it the same?” I hear her hit two mugs together and curse as quietly as possible. The overflowing cabinet has mugs from all over the world, all double sized and most of them from family since gone. I haven’t been able to get rid of any of them.
    “Yes,” swinging my legs over the edge of the couch the pain shoots up my back. I ought to remember how uncomfortable this thing is, but I am a glutton for punishment. Mindlessly, I rub the knot in my lower back as I prepare for the long day ahead.
    “You should have come to bed,” she places the mug down on the coffee table and sits