Cold Touch by Leslie Parrish Read Free Book Online

side of her stinging thumb.
    The news anchor introduced a reporter who was delivering a live update
    from outside one of the local police precincts. The perky-looking woman gave
    her intro and then introduced a police officer, whose image soon fil ed the
    screen.
    “You,” Olivia said, the word riding out of her mouth on a pleased sigh.
    Because there, easily recognizable, was the man who’d saved her from a
    run-in with a car. The bottom-of-thescreen graphic identified him as Detective
    Gabe Cooper.
    “Gabe.” A nice name. She liked how it felt on her lips.
    Cooper squinted at the camera, his rugged face bathed in harsh morning
    sunlight. Probably because some clumsy idiot made him break his
    sunglasses.
    Dark smudges under his eyes and a weary slump to his broad shoulders
    said he hadn’t been sleeping wel . She wondered if anybody surrounded by
    crime and murder ever could.
    “Detective Cooper, can you give us any more information on the victim?” the
    reporter asked. “We’re getting reports that you have identified a child?”
    “No, that is incorrect,” the detective said, almost cutting the reporter off. She
    sensed Gabe Cooper didn’t like reporters. “We haven’t identified him at al .
    The coroner’s office has confirmed the skeletal remains found at the scene of
    the fire belonged to a male child, likely Caucasian, approximately ten to twelve
    years of age.”
    Olivia slowly lifted her hand and turned off the faucet, then reached for the
    remote and jacked up the volume. Her heart had begun to thud a little harder,
    her pulse picking up its pace.
    A boy. Ten to twelve years of age. God .
    “Has a cause of death been determined?”
    “I’m not at liberty to discuss specifics of the murder investigation. But we do
    need the public’s help with the actual identification,” the detective said.
    “What about dental records or DNA?” asked the reporter, as if reading off a
    CSI script.
    “We’re working on those,” Cooper said, “but this child doesn’t appear to
    have had any dental care in his short life.”
    The reporter nodded, looking pious and sympathetic. She obviously wanted
    to appear saddened rather than merely thril ed at scooping the other local
    stations this early on a Friday morning by landing an interview with the lead
    detective on a tragic murder case.
    “They’re not al media cockroaches,” Olivia reminded herself, remembering
    she and the other agents at eXtreme Investigations no longer loathed al
    members of the media the way they once had, mainly because of Aidan
    McConnel ’s new girlfriend, Lexie, a reporter.
    “His remains also appear to show signs of regular and extended abuse.”
    Olivia’s mouth had gone dry, but she didn’t lift the coffee cup because she
    had the feeling her suddenly churning stomach would reject anything she tried
    to swal ow.
    Abused. Neglected .
    “Judging by some property records we’ve discovered, we suspect this boy
    might have been hidden in the wal twelve years ago, during a renovation after
    a previous fire.”
    Twelve years.
    Was this real y possible?
    “Whoever this boy was, his life was very difficult,” Cooper said, his voice
    thickening, as if he were taking this case personal y. “We want to catch
    whoever did this to him. Badly.”
    “How can the public help?” the TV reporter asked.
    “A forensic artist has created a sketch of what the victim might have looked
    like at the time of his death.” Then the detective stared into the camera,
    intensity revealed in a pair of attractive green eyes. “If you recognize this boy,
    or if you recal a child you might have suspected was being abused who has
    since disappeared, please contact our office.”
    The screen split. Olivia held her breath, waiting for what she knew would
    appear beside the live scene outside the police station—the drawing. It
    wouldn’t be perfect, of course, based merely on the shape of the skul , the
    measurements between the eyes, the prominence of