In the Flesh. Rita Herron

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      He’d half expected her to be driving a Porsche or Beamer, but the tiny convertible suited his image of her, as well. A girly-girl car.

      She was probably rich, prissy, earned ten times his yearly salary and thought she knew it all.

      He hoped to hell she didn’t puke when she saw the body. Already the flies and bugs had feasted, and the stench had gotten bad. At least CSI was almost finished, so if she lost it, she wouldn’t contaminate evidence.

      Before she cut the engine, she dragged a brush through her hair. Concerned about her looks at a crime scene—not a good sign.

      He tried not to notice the long silky-looking blond strands but couldn’t help himself as she pulled them back into a ponytail at the base of her neck. Then she climbed out and his gut clenched at the sight of that body. High full breasts tapered to a slender waist. She wore a dark-blue tank top that clung to her figure in the cloying summer heat, and a loose white skirt that swirled around her slender ankles, leading his eyes down to her sandaled feet and toenails painted a hot red.

      Damn. He liked red toenails.

      He dragged his gaze back up to her face, searching for the flaw. Unfortunately, he didn’t see one on the surface. Soft features shaped a dainty nose and high sculpted cheekbones, and her lips were pouty and pink, natural, no lipstick.

      She would have to be a knockout. Long blond hair and longer legs that could grip a man and make him crazy. Yep, the devil always came disguised in pretty packages.

      Not that he would let her model looks distract him from the job or make him forget what she was. A shrink.

      An interference in the case.

      He didn’t know why Black had insisted on calling her out here. A short but sweet meeting at the precinct would have sufficed. And worse, the captain had ordered him to babysit her to the scene.

      She started toward the woods, and he cleared his throat. “You can’t go that way. This is a crime scene.”

      She startled and almost lost her footing, and he cursed the fact that she didn’t have enough sense to dress appropriately for the woods.

      “I didn’t see you skulking in the shadows,” she said, jutting up her chin.

      He almost laughed. He’d expected a sweet voice to go with that body. Instead, it was husky, and her glare so sharp that it cut to the bone. “Are you Dr. Madden?”

      She nodded. “Captain Black requested I come.”

      He gave a clipped nod, biting back the fact that he disagreed with his superior. The last thing he wanted was to get pulled from the investigation because of his personal dislike for her. “I’m supposed to escort you to the crime scene.”

      She wet her lip, a sign of nervousness, but he refused to cut her any slack. If she couldn’t do the job, then Black should see it now, so they’d be done with this crap and he wouldn’t have to deal with her.

      “And you are?” she asked.

      “Detective Raul Cortez.” He gestured toward the path to his left. “Follow me. The body is this way.”

      He didn’t wait on her response, but strode into the woods. He heard the brush parting, twigs snapping beneath her feet, her breathing labored as she hurried behind him, but he didn’t slow down until he heard her yelp.

      He inhaled sharply and pivoted, frowning as she gripped a tree trunk and massaged her foot.

      A second of remorse filled him for being curt, but this job was not for sissies. “You should have dressed for work instead of the country club.”

      She fisted her hands by her side. “I was already out when I received the call.”

      “A champagne brunch, no doubt.”

      “Frankly that’s none of your business.” She flicked her hand forward. “Just lead the way. I’ll keep up.”

      The challenge in her tone egged him on, and he stalked the rest of the way, not breaking stride until he reached the crime scene tape. The CSI team had scattered, searching the surrounding area, and Black was waiting beside the body. He wanted Dr. Madden to see the way she’d been posed to get the full effect of this perp’s MO.

      Black frowned at Raul as the doctor trotted behind him. He made no excuse, but turned and gestured in introduction. “Dr. Madden, Captain Black.”

      Black extended his hand. “Thank you for coming, Dr. Madden. My friend Agent Steele and his wife, Claire, recommended you.”

      The woman smiled. “Yes, I worked with Claire before. I can’t believe she’s married now and has two kids.”

      “We’re not interested in chitchating about your friends’ families,” Raul cut in.

      She whirled on him. “Yes, I can see that you wouldn’t, you’re probably not a family man.”

      A muscle ticked in his jaw. “As you can see, we have a dead woman on our hands,” he snapped.

      “Detective,” Black said in a warning tone.

      Jenny threw up a hand. “It’s all right. I’m sorry to hear another girl has been murdered.”

      Black clenched his jaw. “Yeah. We have to find this guy before he strikes again.”

      She slanted her gaze toward the body, and her expression softened. “You’re right. Let’s get to work.”

      Raul grunted, and she gave him a glacier look but refrained from comment as she addressed Black. “Do you want to tell me the details first or want me to assess the situation for myself?”

      “Why don’t you look first, then give us your thoughts,” Black said. “We want your gut reaction, your unbiased, professional opinion.”

      Raul frowned at the word we but knew better than to argue, so he kept his mouth shut. Instead he braced himself to steer the woman to the side if she got sick, or to catch her if she passed out.

      Hell, he halfway hoped she did. Then Black could see she didn’t belong here, and they’d be rid of her.

       Chapter Two

      Jenny tried to tamp down her anger at Detective Raul Cortez. Even though he was easy on the eyes, he was rude, insolent, and the perfect example of why some people called policemen pigs.

      She was accustomed to some adversity, but no one had ever taken such an instant dislike to her before. If she didn’t have a job to do here, her feelings might be hurt.

      Or she might spit in his face and walk away.

      But Jenny had never backed down from a fight or let anyone bully her, and plenty of male patients had tried. She sure as heck didn’t intend to play scaredy-cat now.

      Irritation at the detective morphed into horror and anger at the person who’d killed this girl as she picked her way through the СКАЧАТЬ