Total pages in book: 109
Estimated words: 102903 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 515(@200wpm)___ 412(@250wpm)___ 343(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 102903 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 515(@200wpm)___ 412(@250wpm)___ 343(@300wpm)
“I’m hopeful,” he answers. “I can already tell there’s trauma to her hands and fingernails that indicates she put up a fight.”
“Hey, Dunn,” Officer Kutch says, peeking his head into the bedroom. “CSI has located several blood splatters near the back door. And two footprints at the bottom of the deck stairs.”
“Has Wilkins made contact with the husband?”
“No.” He shakes his head. “But he’s heading over to the victim’s sister’s house now.”
“Okay,” I answer and pull out my pad to jot down a few notes. Before I leave the bedroom, I tell Booth to give me a call when he has the final results of his examination.
I carefully pass by a few members of our CSI team as they take photographs and swabs from various parts of the house, and I slide underneath the yellow tape that’s now blocking entry to the front door. But when I reach the porch, I spot a familiar face walking up the front concrete path.
“What are you doing here?” I ask, and Shane just offers a little smirk.
“Figured you might need a little help on this one,” he answers. “I know it’s hard for you to take on a case without me.”
I scoff, but I also laugh. “Pretty sure you have enough work to do on the CMA case.”
“Relax, Dom,” Shane retorts as he walks up the steps to meet me at the top. “Hannah’s shift is over, and I had a little free time on my hands.”
“Free time?” I question and furrow my brow at him. “I’m just curious how you can have free time when I know for a fact you have a shitload of possible suspects to track down . . .”
“Even though I don’t owe you any explanations, I’ll take the fucking bait,” he comments on a snort. “Matthews and Lakin are currently working on bringing two of my possible suspects down to the station to interview. It’s my next stop.”
When I just keep staring at him, Shane reaches out to give me a hearty pat to the back.
“Look, I know this case now involves your girlfriend, and I get you’re concerned, but everything is going good, okay?” he says. “You don’t need to worry.”
“Shane, I’ll stop worrying when you solve the fucking case.”
“That’s valid,” he says through a chuckle. “But you’re going to have to learn to relax, brother. Otherwise, you’re going to make your elevens worse than they already are.”
“My elevens? What the fuck are you talking about?”
“Your elevens, Dom.” He reaches out to tap his index finger right between my eyebrows. “It’s from all that scowling you do.”
“Fucking hell.” I slap his hand away on a laugh, but before I can volley a sarcastic retort his way, my phone pings inside my suit jacket. I pull it out to find a text message from a sender that makes me forget all about Shane’s usual bullshit and smile from ear to ear.
Hannah: You know, if you decided to pick up some Chicken Lettuce Wraps from P.F. Chang’s on your way home from work and bring it to my house, I wouldn’t be mad at all.
I don’t waste any time texting my girl back.
Me: Oh, really . . .
Hannah: Uh-huh. And if you wanted to add an order of Crispy Honey Chicken with brown rice, I wouldn’t be mad about that either.
Me: And what do you think Sherry would want to eat, you know, if I just-so-happened to stop at P.F. Chang’s before I came over to your place?
Hannah: She’s a big fan of their Teriyaki Chicken.
Hannah: P.S. There’s probably a fun prize involved if you bring P.F. Chang’s here . . .
I smile as I type out another message.
Me: I do like prizes. Especially fun ones. But I’m also kind of picky about my prizes . . .
Hannah: Well, this is a REALLY fun one, Dom. You’re going to love it.
Me: On a scale of 1 to “I get to put my mouth on your pussy” where does this fun prize land?
Hannah: If you add a happy little cock sucker named Hannah in that scale of yours, then you’re probably going to love it.
Fuck me.
Me: You know, Hannah, I thought you were this sweet, innocent girl, but I’m finding out that, deep-down, you’re a dirty dirty girl.
Hannah: Oh, Dom. You have no idea.
Me: Tell the happy little sucker named Hannah, I should be home around 8 with P.F. Chang’s and a hard cock.
When I look up from my phone, sliding it into my suit jacket as I do, I find Shane just standing there with a stupid grin on his face.
“What?”
“Let me guess,” he says. “That was Hannah.”
I roll my eyes. “I know you’re a nosy bastard who loves to be all up in my business, but how about we head to the station now so you can, you know, interview those possible CMA suspects, and I can try to track down some information on this victim’s currently MIA husband.”