Heat of the Moment by Lori Handeland Read Free Book Online Page A

didn’t?” Deb’s face became crestfallen.
    Becca shook her head so hard her hair flew around her like a fiery dervish. “Too ghoulish for me.”
    â€œGhoulish?” the chief repeated. “I love all that CSI stuff.”
    â€œCSI on people is one thing, animals another.”
    She had a point. How many books, movies, and television shows portrayed the graphic deaths of animals? Few to none. While a lot of people seemed to be overly okay with human mutilation, torture, and bloody death, they were equally squeamish about the same in regard to animals.
    Owen cast a glance at the table, swallowed, and turned away. He could see why.
    â€œVeterinary forensics involves cases of abuse, mutilation, fighting rings—dogs, roosters.” Becca jabbed a finger at the spectacle that had ruined Owen’s living room. Probably forever. “And that. Whatever it is.”
    â€œWhat are we going to do?” Chief Deb asked.
    â€œWe?” Owen repeated. He had no clue about forensics—human, animal, or otherwise.
    â€œI can call the professor,” Becca said. “See if he has a recommendation.”
    Deb hesitated. She probably didn’t want to admit the inadequacy of her force—who would?—but in the end what choice did she have?
    â€œThat would be good. Thanks.”
    Becca took her phone out of her pocket, touched the screen. “I’ve got his number.”
    If she hadn’t taken the class, then why did she have the professor in her contacts list?
    She lifted the phone to indicate upstairs, where the cell signal lived. “I’ll give Jeremy a call and be right back.”
    If she hadn’t taken the class, why was he Jeremy ? If she had taken the class why would he be Jeremy ? Wouldn’t he be Professor Whatever?
    Owen stood in the hall stewing while Chief Deb poked around the crime scene. He didn’t think that was a good idea. Wouldn’t it be better to leave it alone until an expert showed up? But she was the cop, not him.
    At the sound of footsteps on the staircase, Owen moved into the living room so Becca wouldn’t see him hovering in the hall trying to eavesdrop on a conversation he had no prayer of hearing over that distance. He didn’t have ears like Reggie.
    â€œHe’s coming himself,” Becca said.
    â€œSwell,” Owen muttered.
    â€œHe’s the best forensic veterinarian in the Midwest.”
    â€œHow many are there?”
    â€œDon’t know, don’t care. Jeremy will be here in the morning.”
    â€œDoesn’t he have a class to teach?”
    A coed to boink?
    â€œHe’ll cancel.” She waved a hand toward the five-pointed star on the wall. “The pentagram intrigued him.”
    â€œThat’s a pentagram?” Deb asked, tilting her head right, then left, then right again as she studied it.
    â€œIsn’t it?” Becca glanced at Owen.
    â€œMy geometry grades were shit.” Along with the rest of them.
    â€œMine were more like crap, but I think that’s what they call those. If not, Jeremy should know.” Becca bit her lip, sighed.
    Owen knew that look, that sigh. “What else?”
    â€œJeremy said that a pentagram is a Wiccan symbol.”
    â€œHe thinks witches did this?”
    â€œNo.”
    â€œYou just said—”
    â€œA pentagram is a Wiccan symbol, but those who practice Wicca believe that they should harm none.” She pointed at the table. “That’s pretty harmful.”
    â€œI never thought I’d see anything like this in Three Harbors,” Owen said.
    â€œNone of us did.”
    Silence settled over them.
    â€œWell, let’s move along.” Chief Deb made a shooing gesture.
    Becca moved; Owen did not.
    â€œGood night,” Owen said.
    The chief blinked. “You can’t stay here.”
    â€œIt’s my damn house.”
    â€œIt’s a crime scene.”
    â€œNot really.”
    â€œYes,