Body Count Read Online Free Page A

her most distinguishing trait is her wide natural smile, in the style of Julia Roberts.
    I fight my way through a group of ogling marines. Rivers makes a beeline for me. He pulls me in next to him just as I reach the edge of the group.
    â€œHere she is,” he says, raising his full glass of beer skyward and nodding at me in a slightly paternal manner. “The Aussie wonder.”
    I was the one who saw Boxley’s pattern. It broke the case for us.
    Everyone raises their glasses. The blood rushes to my face. Sam gives me an amused wink and I grimace in response. I hate being in the spotlight. Most profiling work is behind the scenes, although the press try to make it more public. They love talking to the profiler on a case. But I avoid the reporters. And when the case breaks, I push the attention onto the local cops, the ones usually breaking down the doors and making the arrests.
    Marco arrives with my beer and clunks my bottle heavily. “Cheers,” he says.
    â€œAh, and here’s the Rock. Cheers, Marco,” Rivers says.
    I’m still not sure why Marco is called the Rock.
    â€œCheers,” I say, toasting and taking a swig directly from the bottle. It tastes better that way.
    With the official toast over, the other agents go back to their conversations. I like seeing Rivers like this, even though it’s only for an hour or so. Every time a perp’s caught from one of the unit’s profiles he transforms, letting himself live a little before his controlled, authoritarian persona returns.
    Marco disappears into the sea of agents, leaving me with Rivers.
    â€œSo, how did you do it?”
    â€œWhat?”
    â€œYou know what I mean. Your profiles are good. Exceptional in fact. That’s why we got you.”
    â€œI’m no different from the others.”
    â€œMaybe not yet, but I’ve got a feeling about you. You’re a natural.” He pauses. “I knew that from the moment I saw you.”
    â€œYou didn’t even notice me,” I laugh.
    He smiles. “Okay, at first you were a face in a sea of many. But I noticed your questions.”
    Rivers is referring to his profiling sessions that I sat in on. The Victoria police sent me to the FBI Academy’s International Training Program, a six-week course at Quantico. One of the main subjects was profiling, an area my bosses wanted me to refine. I don’t think it had ever crossed their minds that I might end up leaving the force because of it. I still feel a little guilty about it too.
    Rivers took me aside after the course and asked me a few questions. When he found out I had dual citizenship, he offered me a job on the spot.
    â€œThere’s something different about you,” Rivers says.
    A slight chill rises slowly up my spine. The problem is, I vaguely know what he’s talking about. I feel it myself sometimes. But I can’t explain it.
    â€œIt’s—” He is interrupted by Sam.
    â€œLet me guess, you filed it?” she says, pulling in close enough to talk.
    â€œYep. Files are ready to go.” I notice, with some amusement, that Sam has several disappointed men looking at her back, but I don’t think she would ever mix business with pleasure.
    â€œWere you giving her a pep talk, boss?” Sam says.
    â€œOf sorts.” Rivers smiles at me and only slight creases form around his mouth. His dark skin is smooth and looks like a thirty-year-old, yet I’d place him at around forty-five. Like many African-American men, he wears his age well and even the small patches of gray near his temples add distinction rather than age.
    â€œSo what dragged you away from your filing?” Sam asks me.
    â€œMarco. He was insistent.”
    Sam discreetly gives me a conspiring look. She knows me well. In fact, so far she’s the only person I’d say was a good friend, besides Marco. That’s no mean feat when you move countries. Nothing can replace ten or more years