Steele Resolve (The Detective Jasmine Steele Series Book 1) by Kimberly Amato Read Free Book Online

fingers or other crude gestures, I’ve got to get myself together and call Chase’s school. Unlock phone and dial.
    “P.S. 284.”
    “Hello, this is Detective Jasmine Steele. My…” Son? Nephew? I’m a guardian right? What the hell is he to me on paper?
    “Hello?”
    “Yes, sorry. Chase Steele attends your school and recently we’ve come into some information that will require a protective detail. They’ve been instructed to be very inconspicuous. You won’t even notice them.”
    “Detective, please have them come to the main office to show proper identification and paperwork. Then we will decide how they can fit into the current staff correctly.”
    “Thank you very much.”
    “You’re welcome.”
    Disconnecting the call, I question everything. Why did I leave the decision up to them? This is an ongoing investigation; they should allow me to place my men inside their school however I see fit. Yet, here I am allowing them to choose. Whatever. As long as he is safe, I don’t give a shit. Now back to this case.
    Pulling into a parking spot, I throw the hands free device into the center console and grab the police file. Hoping out of the car, I watch as a few officers see me walk into the medical building. It’s like they forget I have a job to do. Like I suddenly got soft the minute Chase walked into my life. Sure I’m vulnerable with him, but not as weak as they think. I’ll never understand why women who do their jobs without children are old bitches with no emotion and women with kids suddenly have no backbone. Yet, men can jerk off into a cup and be called a man. It’s not that hard to donate the seed, try carrying the fucking kid for once.
    “Thinking to yourself again?”
    Snapping back to reality I find myself standing in front of a cloaked Victor as he finishes stitching up his ’Y’ incision in a dead man’s chest. “What you got, Victor?”
    He looks like shit as he covers up the body in front of me. Rubbing his temples hard he mumbles,
    “A migraine. You?” If he rubs any harder he’ll get to touch his own brain sometime soon. I wonder if all those files on his desk have something to do with it. Either way I need answers and he usually has them. Just don’t get close to his desk or a chair. Those are sacred places covered in papers.
    “Indigestion.”
    “Fast food?”
    “No food.”
    “Even better. There’s some yogurt in the fridge.”
    “How you manage to keep food in a room filled with death is beyond me.”
    “I’m not the one who had a chicken wrap in a blood spattered crime scene.”
    “It was once and I was starving,” I’m splitting hairs I know.
    “Whatever you say.” He hands me the latest dead man’s files. I flip them open and realize I cannot comprehend whatever language this is written in. I’m not sure if it’s the big words or the illegible handwriting. “You going to tell me about the vic or do I have to attempt to translate your chicken scratches?”
    “Male victim died an estimated twenty-four hours before being located. He was strangled like the others.”
    “That’s it?”
    “No, he was in transitioning phase.”
    “In stupid person language please.”
    “He was preparing to have gender reassignment surgery. His body was a woman’s with the exception of his genitals.”
    “So, you think he was mistaken for a woman?”
    “I deal with facts, Jasmine. I have no idea what the assailant was thinking, but I do know he finished the surgery.”
    “Finished?”
    “Complete transfer from male to female. Not clean by any stretch of the imagination, but everything was removed.”
    “That’s nasty.”
    “He looks like the other victims in height, hair color and eye color. Their ages are all in the same range. Whoever did this has a specific look and desire.”
    “Is any of this in the police report,” I quickly flip through it and see the male was found naked. “How do you know he looked like the other victims?”
    “Few strands of a wig in his