The Heart of a Killer. Jaci Burton

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      Two

      Anna Pallino’s steps faltered when she entered the alley.

       First, because she was in this godforsaken alley again, a place she hadn’t set foot in since that night twelve years ago. Now she was back again, and someone was dead in the alley. Again.

       Second, Dante Renaldi was back.

       Those were enough to justify the stutter in her step.

       Roman greeted her.

       “What the hell is this?” she asked as she caught sight of Gabe standing next to Dante. “Old-home week? Dante comes back and you three decide to have a reunion here?”

       “Not exactly.”

       “Then why am I here?” Something had obviously happened, but why would Roman call her to this crime scene? Because Dante was here?

       And why the hell was Dante here?

       She hated questions with no answers.

       “Thought you’d want to know. That’s George Clemons back there.”

       Third reason she almost tripped over her own feet. “George? Oh, my God, Roman. I’m so sorry. What happened?”

       He laid his hand on her arm to halt her forward progress. “You need to know, Anna. He’s been beaten to death.”

       She sucked in a breath and grabbed onto Roman, fighting to stay in the here and now. “And? There’s more. Tell me.”

       She saw the reluctance in his eyes. “Tell me.”

       “Someone carved a heart in his chest. Right where…” He glanced down at her shirt, at her left breast.

       Oh, God. No. The heart carving just like hers. Her scar throbbed and she resisted the urge to touch it, to rub the ache away.

       George Clemons, beaten just like the guys had beaten Tony Maclin that night.

       She took a slow, long breath, then let it out. “I don’t understand.”

       “Anna.”

       Dante appeared beside her, but she had no time for him. Not now, not when her vision was nothing more than a pinpoint of light.

       She had to focus on the scene and only the scene. It was the only thing that was going to get her through this.

       She pushed past them both. “I need to see it.”

       “Don’t,” Roman started, but she was already on her way to the body. To George Clemons, a nice man who’d raised foster children ever since he’d been discharged from military service.

       And his wife, Ellen. Poor Ellen.

       She knelt beside the body. Richard Norton was on the scene already, thank God. She was glad to have the chief medical examiner on this case.

       “What have you got?” she asked, pulling on her gloves.

       “Warm body. Based on liver temp and lividity I’d say he hasn’t been dead more than a few hours at most. Won’t know cause of death until I do the autopsy. He’s a bloody mess.”

       That he was. Someone beat him badly, worse than the guys had ever pounded on Tony Maclin.

       “This is interesting,” Richard said, pointing to the heart carved into George’s chest.

       “Yes, it is.”

       “Someone loved him to death, I guess.”

       She grimaced. “So not funny, Richard.”

       Richard grinned. “Hey, I thought it was one of my better lines.”

       “George Clemons, our victim here, was Roman’s foster father.”

       His smile died as he looked over his shoulder to where Roman stood with Dante and Gabe. “Oh. That’s a pisser.”

       “Anything else you can tell me?”

       “Not until I get him cleaned up and try to figure out what killed him. I don’t see any obvious bullet or stab wounds on the body, other than the carving here, but like I СКАЧАТЬ