Cavanaugh Cold Case by Marie Ferrarella Read Free Book Online

him the second part of her findings. “They were broken apart—while the victims were alive.”
    â€œThen they were murdered in a fit of rage,” he said, amending his previous statement. And then he looked at her with a touch of impatience. “Well, which is it?”
    Her eyes met his, and just for a split second, Kristin caught herself losing her train of thought.
    Rousing herself again, she went on to tell him, “I just present you with the facts as I find them. It’s up to you to do the speculation.”
    With that, she lowered her visor and got back to the business at hand, putting together ten dismembered Humpty Dumpties.
    Feeling almost as if he was experiencing whiplash, Malloy watched her work for a moment. This case was definitely not going to be easy—for a hell of a lot of reasons, he told himself.

Chapter 4
    K ristin could feel the detective’s eyes on her. Ordinarily, she could block out her surroundings and work under any conditions, adverse or not. But she had this distinct impression that the detective wasn’t watching her work, he was watching her , which was something else entirely.
    And she didn’t much like it.
    â€œWhy are you still here?” she asked, not giving the man the satisfaction of looking up at him as she posed the question.
    Malloy’s voice was mellow and easygoing as he replied, “I thought I’d broaden my education. You know, you can really learn a lot about a person by watching them work.”
    Obviously the man’s supply of lines was endless, Kristin thought reprovingly. Since ignoring him was obviously not working, she decided to put Cavanaugh on the spot instead.
    â€œOh?” she said skeptically. “And what is it that you’ve learned by watching so intently?”
    â€œThat you’re precise and meticulous—and you don’t like being observed.”
    â€œI don’t mind being observed. What I mind is the person doing the observing—especially when he should be working.” The look she gave him left no doubts about how she felt about his standing there.
    Rather than backing away because he’d been rebuked, Malloy smiled engagingly. “Do I make you nervous, Dr. Kris?”
    â€œYou make me irritated, Detective Cavanaugh,” Kristin corrected. “Now, if you want me to come up with some answers for you to work with, you’re going to have to let me do my job,” she said, then added with finality, “alone.”
    But rather than leave, the way he had initially begun to do, Malloy looked around at the other exam tables. There were six in all, brought in during the rampage of another serial killer several years ago. Now the tables were covered with bones that might or might not be part of the person whose skull rested at the top of each table.
    As he glanced around at the various clusters of remains, a thought occurred to Malloy. “Do you think this might be related to a sex trafficking ring or something along those lines?”
    Kristin stopped working and looked up. “Excuse me?”
    â€œYou know, sex trafficking,” he repeated, then went on to elaborate in case she missed his drift. “Unsavory types smuggling young women from around the world for the single purpose of making money by turning them into sex slaves.”
    â€œThat would be more profitable if they were alive,” she pointed out dryly as she got back to sorting. “For most men, dead women are not a turn-on.”
    â€œVery true,” Malloy agreed amicably enough. “But maybe something went really wrong, and whoever was in charge of this group decided he or they had no other recourse except to kill all these women.”
    Under normal circumstances, she supposed that the sexy detective’s theory was plausible enough. But not in this case. “There’s just one thing wrong with that,” Kristin said flatly.
    â€œI’m all ears.”
    No, he