Dead Wrong. Susan Sleeman

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Dead Wrong - Susan Sleeman


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called Cole first. You know how mad he’ll be when he finds out this happened and you spent the night alone.”

      Cole was the last person Kat wanted to tell. With their oldest brother, Ethan, on a month-long honeymoon, the usually quiet Cole had taken charge and was very vocal of late.

      “That’s why I need your help,” Kat said. “He’ll want to take me off this case and keep me under lock and key until the killer’s caught.”

      “And you don’t think he should do that.”

      “I have to work on this case, Dani. Nancy was my friend. Plus I screwed up and have to prove myself or I’ll never be in charge again.”

      “I don’t know, sis.”

      “C’mon, Dani.” She used her most persuasive tone. “With the way Ethan and Cole want us both to sit behind desks all the time, you of all people should back me up on this.” She and Dani had fought their brothers treating them like helpless females instead of trained law enforcement officials for two years now. Their brothers had only recently started letting them get more involved, but this situation would make them pull back.

      “You have a point,” Dani said, although grudgingly.

      Kat almost had her cooperation. “I’ve already gotten approval to work with the detectives in charge of the case so I’ll spend most of my time with them. They’ve also posted an officer outside my door for when I’m home. I’ll be perfectly safe.”

      “I’m not sure this is a good idea....”

      “Please, Dani. I need to do this.”

      She sighed. “You’re sure you’ll be okay?”

      “Yes. I’m positive.”

      “Fine. I’ll tell Cole about it when I get to work, and I’ll try to convince him to stay away. But don’t blame me if he comes after you.”

      “Thanks, Dani. I owe you one.” The doorbell rang, and Kat jumped. “Tommy’s at the door. I gotta go.”

      “Tommy. Wait. This means you’re working with Mitch Elliot, too. When were you planning on telling me about that?”

      Never. “I’ll call you later.” Kat hung up before her sister, who knew all about Mitch’s rejection, had a chance to grill her.

      She went to the door and found Mitch leaning on the wall, his legs crossed at the ankle. Her heart did a little free fall as she tipped her head back and ran her gaze up the strong column of his neck to meet his eyes. She was rewarded for the effort with a slow smile spreading across a rugged face with a hint of stubble to match his dark hair. He wore boot-cut jeans, a white dress shirt and tie covered with the same Portland Police Bureau windbreaker as last night. The memory of his scent as the jacket circled her in warmth still lingered in her mind and she had to take a deep breath to clear it out.

      “Where’s Tommy?” she asked and stepped back as the ramifications of spending the day alone with him sunk in.

      “He’s taking care of something, and he’ll meet us later.”

      The only reason Mitch would be so vague on Tommy’s whereabouts was if they thought it would bother her, making it easy to guess his location. “So he’s at the morgue?”

      “Yeah.”

      She appreciated the two of them trying to spare her from the gruesome details, but she couldn’t let them continue to tiptoe around her. “You guys don’t need to treat me with kid gloves, Mitch.”

      “Okay,” he said, and something that looked suspiciously like relief flared in his eyes for a brief moment.

      She got it. He didn’t want to be burdened with her fragility brought on by grief. She’d have to make a point today of showing him she could do her job no matter her pain. And that started with making sure Nancy’s parents had been notified of her death.

      “Has anyone located Nancy’s parents?” she asked.

      “They’re meeting Tommy at the morgue right now.”

      So they were at the viewing window for the second time in a few months identifying their child. Kat couldn’t imagine their pain. She offered a quick prayer for them before looking back at Mitch. “I didn’t know them, but I’d like to offer my condolences. I don’t suppose you’d break the rules and give me their contact information.”

      “We can get it from Tommy when we meet up with him.” He sounded as sad as she felt. “Trooper Franklin’s expecting us so we should get going.”

      “I just need to grab my stuff from upstairs and then I’m ready to go.” She nodded at the kitchen. “There’s fresh coffee. Help yourself.”

      As she ran up the stairs, she heard his phone ringing. Maybe it was Tommy calling from the autopsy to give them a lead. At least she hoped so. The sooner they got a few strong leads the faster they’d solve the murder and bring closure to Nancy’s family.

      She secured her gun in the holster and slipped it onto her belt then gathered her things and retraced her steps. On the landing, she paused and looked down at Mitch. She’d expected to find him in the kitchen getting coffee. Instead, he stood leaning on the fireplace mantel, one hand on his cell, one massaging the back of his neck as if his conversation was tense. She studied him. His broad shoulders and long lean body. His self-assured stance.

      A man this attractive should have women flocking around him, but if rumors were true, he didn’t even date. Of course, she didn’t, either. But at thirty she had a few more years than he had to find a mate if she ever chose to do so. He was at least four years older, maybe five.

      He turned, looking up at her. His gaze roved from her head to her toes and back up again. Her heart dipped, and she pressed her nails into her palms to keep from embarrassing herself by fawning over him.

      She wouldn’t let him get to her again. The loss of her adoptive parents had made her look back on her life and take stock of all she’d been through. To remember all the horrible things that had happened so they couldn’t be repeated. And that meant not letting a man get close enough to control and hurt her as her mother had been hurt. Even a man like Mitch, who on the surface seemed like an upstanding kind of guy.

      Just keep remembering that, Kat, and you’ll be fine.

      She continued down the stairs and by the time she reached him, he was saying goodbye.

      “Tommy,” he said, without making her pump him for information as she’d expected. “The drug in the syringe was propofol.”

      Propofol. Very dangerous and deadly in the wrong hands. “The anesthesia drug used in surgeries,” she said, trying to keep the renewed fear out of her tone.

      “If he’d injected you with the entire syringe, your breathing would’ve been severely compromised.”

      “And I’d be dead,” she said in a whisper.

      “Nancy’s tox screen was positive, as well,” he said quickly, as if wanting to move on.

      Kat wished she could let go of her memories of that night as easily. It’d be a long time before she stopped seeing Nancy lying there next to her while the killer tried to end her life, too.

      “The M.E. estimates Nancy had been dead less than an hour before he arrived on scene,” he continued.

      “Not long after she called me,” Kat said and clenched her hands to fight back a fresh wave of sorrow. If only she’d gotten to Nancy sooner. Or taken her more seriously when she’d claimed Nathan had been murdered. Her friend could still be alive.

      “Still, the killer could’ve gotten away if he’d wanted to leave.” Mitch paused for a long moment and made eye contact. “Sounds like your theory may be right. He knew you were coming and waited for you to arrive so he could kill you.”

      “Then he’ll likely try again.” She


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