Looking at a photo of the victims laying on the floor, positioned intentionally in front of the all too familiar phrase carved into the wall and dripping blood, his heart went out to her. He tried to imagine how he would have felt if at fourteen and he had come home to find this horror. New understanding for her bloomed within him as he watched her eating over the edge of the file. As he wistfully took in the way her lips slid over the pastry as she removed it from her deliciously shaped mouth, she caught him watching her. Her blush sent heat through his thighs and he turned back to the file. Flipping through the next few photos, he came upon the murder weapon. It had been recovered in her parent’s case. despite the fact that no finger prints had been found on it, he felt that the knife from that crime scene might be a key to this one.
Laying the folder flat on the table before him, he looked up at her again. She swallowed and nodded. Once her throat was empty of food, she said, “I know, it looks like the knife the M.E. identified as our murder weapon. I think maybe he is using a knife just like it. Maybe if we can find a manufacturer or a dealer for that particular type of blade we can trace its purchase. Worth a shot, right?” She hadn’t even tried to hide her drawl that time. When he smiled broadly at her, she grinned sheepishly. “What?”
“Just enjoying that accent of yours. You should let it out all the time. That, and I was just about the say the same thing. You are going to go far, Detective Cord.” As he said her name, he leaned in a little, intent on asking her to dinner, but, just like yesterday, the moment was shattered by the ringing of his phone. This time he nearly growled when he answered it. He had just decided to bring up the elevator when it seemed fate had interfered. Would he ever be allowed to have a personal conversation with this woman?
The second he recognized Arrons’ voice on the other end, his tone calmed. He listened to the C.S.I. department leader tell him about the desk clerks’ coat. All the while trying to mask the excitement in his voice. They had a lead, a real lead. Hanging up, he shifted to face her. He had to be serious now, they had important work to do. “That was Jack Arrons. The coat you found had trace all over it. He read off this laundry list of chemicals I didn’t recognize then told me where they came from. Some of the chemicals are found all over, but the bulk of them can only be found in the water treatment facilities scattered throughout the city, more specifically, in the retaining cisterns. There are five facilities in the city that use these particular chemicals.” Seeing her face pinch at the thought of having to trudge through five different water treatment plants, joined by the wonderful smells they had to offer, he continued, “Luckily for you, I think I know where we will start. One of those facilities is less than a mile from your building, just inside Central Park. Considering the grouping we have seen so far I would bet good money that’s where we need to go.”
She smiled at him as she said, “Great, so I only get to trudge through local raw sewage. Can I at least go home and change my shoes first?” He chuckled warmly at her teasing remark. She could be funny, another nail in his coffin sank in deep.
“C.S.I. is meeting us there with clean suits AND rubber waders.” After a moment of silence, he went on. “As soon as you finish your food we can head that way. They are already on the move.”
Dabbing her face with her napkin, she said, “Then lets go. It’s not every day a girl gets asked to wade through other peoples’ waste.” Her sense of humor flared again and he found himself sinking farther and farther into desire.
Chapter 17
He had felt silly enough in the bulky white, front-zippered clean suit, and then they had added the ridiculous waist-high, floppy, rubber waders. As he tromped out of the bathroom, he
Laying the folder flat on the table before him, he looked up at her again. She swallowed and nodded. Once her throat was empty of food, she said, “I know, it looks like the knife the M.E. identified as our murder weapon. I think maybe he is using a knife just like it. Maybe if we can find a manufacturer or a dealer for that particular type of blade we can trace its purchase. Worth a shot, right?” She hadn’t even tried to hide her drawl that time. When he smiled broadly at her, she grinned sheepishly. “What?”
“Just enjoying that accent of yours. You should let it out all the time. That, and I was just about the say the same thing. You are going to go far, Detective Cord.” As he said her name, he leaned in a little, intent on asking her to dinner, but, just like yesterday, the moment was shattered by the ringing of his phone. This time he nearly growled when he answered it. He had just decided to bring up the elevator when it seemed fate had interfered. Would he ever be allowed to have a personal conversation with this woman?
The second he recognized Arrons’ voice on the other end, his tone calmed. He listened to the C.S.I. department leader tell him about the desk clerks’ coat. All the while trying to mask the excitement in his voice. They had a lead, a real lead. Hanging up, he shifted to face her. He had to be serious now, they had important work to do. “That was Jack Arrons. The coat you found had trace all over it. He read off this laundry list of chemicals I didn’t recognize then told me where they came from. Some of the chemicals are found all over, but the bulk of them can only be found in the water treatment facilities scattered throughout the city, more specifically, in the retaining cisterns. There are five facilities in the city that use these particular chemicals.” Seeing her face pinch at the thought of having to trudge through five different water treatment plants, joined by the wonderful smells they had to offer, he continued, “Luckily for you, I think I know where we will start. One of those facilities is less than a mile from your building, just inside Central Park. Considering the grouping we have seen so far I would bet good money that’s where we need to go.”
She smiled at him as she said, “Great, so I only get to trudge through local raw sewage. Can I at least go home and change my shoes first?” He chuckled warmly at her teasing remark. She could be funny, another nail in his coffin sank in deep.
“C.S.I. is meeting us there with clean suits AND rubber waders.” After a moment of silence, he went on. “As soon as you finish your food we can head that way. They are already on the move.”
Dabbing her face with her napkin, she said, “Then lets go. It’s not every day a girl gets asked to wade through other peoples’ waste.” Her sense of humor flared again and he found himself sinking farther and farther into desire.
Chapter 17
He had felt silly enough in the bulky white, front-zippered clean suit, and then they had added the ridiculous waist-high, floppy, rubber waders. As he tromped out of the bathroom, he
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