Blood Score by Jordan Dane Read Free Book Online

door, he asked, “You ready?”
    “ As I’ll ever be.”
    Cronan felt an old familiar knot deep in his belly as he walked to the front door. No matter how many times he’d done a notification, they never got easier. The day it did, he’d know it’d be time to turn in his badge. He avoided looking Angel in the eye. He knew she had her own way of dealing with it and making idle conversation felt like an intrusion. He wanted his next words to be for the family.
    Cronan took a deep breath and rang the doorbell. It didn’t take long for someone to answer.
    “ Yes, can I help you?”
    Cronan recognized Olivia’s mother in an instant. Even though the woman didn’t have blonde hair, she and her daughter had the same distinctive blue eyes. Seeing Olivia in her mother’s face brought a darker edge to what he’d come to do.
    “Are you Mrs. Elizabeth Davenport?”
    “ Yes.”
    “ My name is Detective Cronan and this is my partner, Detective Ramirez. We’re with the Chicago Police Department.” He held up his badge. “May we come in?”
    The woman tried to read their faces, but when she couldn’t, her skin turned pale.
    “What’s this about?”
    “ Please…may we come in?” When Angel softened her tone, the woman raised a hand to the pearls hanging from her neck. She backed away to allow them inside.
    “ Yes, this way.” Mrs. Davenport ushered them into a small parlor off the entrance.
    The room was decorated in a comfortable way, not too formal. It looked like a cross between a high-end interior design magazine and National Geographic. Exotic animal heads were hung on the walls with fur pelts. African sculptures and other taxidermy animals were accent pieces. Display cases had been positioned around the room and featured artifacts, weapons, and a collection of unusual knives. The décor looked masculine, with dark tones and leather furnishings. It wasn’t something he would have expected of Mrs. Davenport. She didn’t look the type of woman to enjoy big game hunting.
    But the photos on the walls told another part of the story.
    Cronan saw the many faces of Olivia Davenport. The images were like a time capsule—a glimpse into her life. Photos of pep rallies, best friends forever, prom dates, and graduations took a backstage to the many hunting trips she had taken with her father to exotic locations. She’d been hunting since she was a young girl.
    Cronan wasn’t sure why, but that surprised him.
    Olivia may have looked like her mother, but that’s where the similarity ended. She’d definitely been her father’s daughter. From the photos, Elizabeth hadn’t joined them on their hunting expeditions. Olivia’s mother was missing from every shot.
    When a man called out to Mrs. Davenport from a back room, she raised her voice to answer. “It’s the police, Charles. Please join us in the parlor.”
    She lowered her voice to tell them, “That’s my husband. I suppose you’ll want to talk to both of us?” Her voice cracked, and her hands trembled. The woman avoided their eyes as she sat on a small sofa and waited for her husband to join them.
    “ Yes, ma’am,” Cronan said. “That would be best.” He took a seat in a leather wingback chair closest to the woman, and Angel took a seat across from them.
    While they waited, Gabe stole glances of Olivia’s mother. Elizabeth Davenport wore pale blue slacks and a crisp white blouse with a string of pearls at her neck. She was a thin woman with intense blue eyes and dark hair cut short that showed off her high cheekbones and slender neck. Laugh lines marked her face. She had a good face, the face of someone he would have liked to meet under other circumstances.
    Her husband entered the room and took her hand as soon as he sat next to her. The gesture wasn’t forced. It had come naturally. Charles was tall with thinning gray hair. He wore khaki Dockers with a black polo shirt and had the physique of an athlete and the tanned skin of someone who loved the