Dying To Play. Debra Webb

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СКАЧАТЬ said coolly. “This has nothing to do with the Bureau’s involvement. I make my assessments based on what I discover for myself, but I don’t trust until it’s earned. I’ll continue to question your suggestions until I either see it your way or I trust your judgment. I don’t think that’s too much to ask.”

      

      He almost smiled but didn’t quite follow through with the effort. It amused him when she used his own statements against him. Well, maybe amused wasn’t the right word.

      “I guess that’s all I can expect,” he relented.

      “I’m glad we’re in agreement.” With Sally on her heels, she walked across the room and paused at the doorway leading to the hall. “We both need some sleep. We’ve got a long day ahead of us tomorrow. I, for one, intend to stay focused on this investigation. So, if there’s nothing else…”

      He didn’t move. He didn’t even speak for one long moment. He had more to say, she could see it in his expression, in the determined set of those broad shoulders. The sensual ache from the music was the only sound during the tense standoff.

      “You’ve already made up your mind about me.”

      The accusation wasn’t spoken in an accusing manner, not openly, anyway. His tone remained low, tightly controlled. But she knew what he was thinking. He wouldn’t have said it otherwise.

      “Are you going to tell me that you didn’t get your partner killed?” she suggested. “Because that’s all I’ve been told about you and that was secondhand.” It was only fair to give him a chance to refute what she’d heard. He was her partner, for the time being.

      He walked toward her, his steps measured, controlled, just like his voice. When he stopped next to her, he looked straight into her eyes. “You expect me to justify what I did do or deny what I didn’t as told by the media?”

      There he went, answering her question with a question. “That would be a start.”

      

      Fury ignited in those blue depths. The blast made her want to step back, but she held her ground. He reined in the outburst right before her eyes. The effort it took visible.

      When he’d exiled all emotion from his expression, he said, “A real cop would do more than just talk about making her own assessments based on fact rather than hearsay.”

      Clenching her jaw to hold back a scorching rebuttal, Elaine pivoted and stormed into the hall. She refused to admit his statement held any merit. She jerked the front door open, a blatant demand for him to go. “Like you said before, it’s late.”

      He made his way to the door but paused directly in front of her before going out. “I guess I was wrong.”

      In spite of her anger, this close, that whiskey-smooth voice slid over her like a caress. Reluctantly she met his gaze, the intensity of it almost undoing her bravado as she waited for him to finish what he’d started.

      “I really did think you were a good cop.”

      Outrage charged through her. She stared hard at him. He stared back, a challenge in his eyes. What the hell did he want from her? “You know what?”

      He angled his head in question.

      She smiled sweetly. “I don’t care what you think. This is my investigation and we’ll do things my way. End of story.”

      “And I’m not supposed to make any waves. Is that it?”

      He was somehow closer now. She refused to back off. “That’s it in a nutshell, partner.”

      “Well, at least I know where I stand,” he allowed in a tone so low, so lethal that it made her shiver.

      She met his intense gaze with lead in her own. Opening the door wider still, she said, “Glad we had this little talk, Callahan.”

      Two more tense beats passed before he moved. “Right.”

      He walked out.

      Elaine slammed the door behind him.

      They were surely off on the right foot now.

      Chapter 8

      Elaine would never get used to the smell of chilled flesh. No matter how many autopsies she attended or corpses she viewed for identification purposes. It was always the same. Her gut wrenched, and it was all she could do to keep down the Starbucks special house blend she’d inhaled en route to the morgue this morning.

      Good thing she hadn’t eaten anything solid.

      “What’s the bottom line, Walt?”

      Walt Damron surveyed his handiwork a moment before responding. Elaine automatically did the same. She knew the routine. As the chief medical examiner he got to pick and choose his cases, leaving the routine work to those under his dominion. And when he did elect to take on a case personally, he did so with much pomp and circumstance. He was the best and he wanted some acknowledgment of that station.

      

      Elaine couldn’t help thinking how sad Brad Matthews looked lying there. Dead. Naked. His sins bared for all to see. Still young by anyone’s standards, his career taking off, a wife and two kids. What went wrong?

      A frown furrowed its way across her forehead. He looked healthy in spite of the hideous marbling effect death had left on his skin. Well, and discounting the damage the .38 had done in the vicinity of his brain.

      Walt heaved a sigh and started to flip through the pages of his preliminary report. “Toxicology is clean.” He shrugged and set the report aside. “There are a few tests that won’t be back for a day or so, but all in all I don’t expect to find anything useful.” He shook his head and made a tsking sound. “If only I had such a strong heart. Either the man led an exceedingly healthy lifestyle or he was blessed with good DNA.”

      Damn. Nothing. “So he just went off the deep end and killed a business associate and that security guard for no reason,” she said, more to herself than to Walt.

      “Just like that young woman last week,” the distinguished medical examiner noted quietly.

      Elaine shifted, frustrated. The reminder hadn’t been necessary…but there it was. “Thanks, Walt. I appreciate your doing this one personally.”

      “Dr. Damron.”

      Elaine started at the deep, husky sound of the male voice. She’d forgotten about Callahan. Man, she had to be off this morning to have let him slip her mind. Especially considering he’d hitched a ride with her from the station. She shouldn’t have had that fourth wine cooler before hitting the sack last night. But she’d needed to relax. After Callahan’s visit the feat had been nearly impossible.

      Walt stared expectantly across the dissected body of Brad Matthews, waiting for Callahan to continue.

      “Any indication of extreme fatigue?”

      Walt’s shaggy gray eyebrows knitted thoughtfully. “Nothing СКАЧАТЬ