Cold Blooded by Lisa Jackson Read Free Book Online

Orleans Fire Department. "What's up?" He rounded his desk, stretching the cord tight.
    "I've been workin' half the night. We had ourselves a bad one not far from Bayou St. John. Small house. By the time the first call came in, it was too late."
    "Someone inside?"
    "Yeah. What's left of her ... Well, we think it's a woman.
    Hard to tell. Not much left. The ME and the crime scene team ate here, but I thought you might want to poke around.
    The deal is this, Rick, this isn't someone who fell asleep in bed while smokin' a damned cigarette. Looks like arson and there was a woman trapped inside; she was chained to the sink, man. Her hands and feet were chained there. She had something around her neck, too, and the body's burned bad, but it's--it's--her head." He let out a breath and Bentz knew what was coming.' ' was nearly severed. Sick stuff."
    Bentz's skin crawled He glanced at the door, wishing he could call Olivia Benchet back into the room.
    "There are some other things, too. The crime scene team will get it all, but it might not hurt for you to take a look before everything's bagged and tagged." "I'm on my way," Bentz said. His gut clenched tight as Stan rattled off the address. He hung up and was reaching for his jacket when his eyes met Montoya's. "There was someone killed in the fire over by Esplanade.
    Probably a woman. Burned beyond recognition, her hands and feet chained to the sink, her head nearly severed."
    "Holy shit," Montoya muttered, sucking in his breath.
    Bentz stuffed his Glock into his shoulder holster. "Precisely."
    Chapter Five.
    Kristi Bentz dragged her body from the Olympic-sized pool. Two miles.
    The longest she'd swum in six months and it felt good. She grabbed her towel from the hook over the benches against the wall and breathed deeply. Her nose was filled with chlorine, her ears plugged though she heard the echo of voices of the few other swimmers out this early.
    Ms. Carter, a masculine-looking swim coach wearing sweats and a whistle, was patrolling the area, padding in plastic slip-ons along the concrete siding, picking up kick boards and a pair of goggles that had been left.
    Mist covered the windows, but through the foggy glass, Kristi noticed that students were hurrying to their classes, cutting across the quad by the athletic facility. She glanced at the clock.
    Shit. It was seven forty-five. If she didn't hustle, she'd be late to her first class. Dripping, she reached for a towel and noticed something out of place in her peripheral vision, something dark through the windows. She turned, got a glimpse of a figure through the foggy glass--a man about six feet tall, peering inside. So why didn't he just walk through the door?
    And what did she care? So what if the guy was looking?
    He was probably some guy getting his jollies out of watching girls in swimsuits. A lame nerd who didn't have the guts to ask a girl out.
    Pathetic pervert.
    She wrapped the towel around her, hurried into the locker room and took a quick, hot shower. The voyeur pushed out of her mind, she changed into jeans and a sweater. Quickly she snapped her hair back in a ponytail, slapped on some lipstick and mascara, then hauling her backpack, jogged across campus. Most of the kids who were awake at this hour had already disappeared into the lecture halls. Only a few were hurrying along the concrete paths crisscrossing the lawns between the ancient brick buildings. She glanced past the library to Adam's Hall where she had English with Dr. Northrup back to back with Psychology with Dr. Sutler, both of whom were odd ducks in her estimation. They were so ... intense.
    Northrup thought Shakespeare was a God, for Christ's sake, and Sutler gave out tons of homework.
    Tons! If only she'd registered early and gotten into classes by some of the easier professors, but, as usual, she'd signed up late and ended up with Northrup, Sutler, and Dr. Franz, another gem of a professor. Talk about a nutcase!
    She jogged down a path to her favorite