Dark Wings Descending Read Online Free Page A

spending more time throwing the game to support his habit than he had spent throwing the ball in play. He’d been a six foot nine behemoth who, high on a mixture of cocaine and steroids, had nearly added cop killer to his hall of fame.
    Rafe had made damn sure she never mentioned it to anyone, ever, the fires of Hades she’d seen burning in his eyes.
     
    From the tone in Dean’s voice, he’d been calling her name for a while. Rafe snapped back with a blink. “You okay there?” He slowly held the bottle of water out to her, taking care not to startle her with any sudden movement.
    Rafe drank greedily from the bottle as soon as she twisted the cap off. The cold water eased her dryness but did nothing to wash away the acrid taste of brimstone she could feel clawing at her throat. “Stand down, Detective, I’m fine.”
    “Does that happen often?” Dean asked.
    “No,” Rafe said bluntly. She shook her pills from their blister pack, tossed them into her mouth, then swilled them down with more water. She then turned her attention to Alona, effectively ending the conversation. “So tell me about these data streams we have running.”
    Without a pause, Alona did as she was asked. “The data we have put in so far from these cases hasn’t brought up any definitive matches, but we’re still searching. With the countrywide DDUs just in their infancy, it might be some time before we get a match from another state.”
    “Time is something we can’t afford to wait on. He’s not going to stop. He has a specific and very definite MO. You don’t start something that particular to just give it up after three attempts.” Rafe tapped at her computer and brought up the crime scene photos from the first scene. As if she’d always used the software before her, she flicked the photos up onto the large screen, then stood to study them. The graphic stills hid none of the horror that had greeted the police who had responded to a caller’s terrified find. Rafe’s eyes lingered long on the pose of the woman’s body. “Can we put the second scene up too?”
    Alona swiftly brought them up, and the killer’s pattern was easy to see. Two different locations, but the body placement was identical.
    “Have we gotten the photos from last night’s killing yet?”
    Dean checked his computer and all three scenes were displayed on the big screen.
    Rafe hoped to find something hidden among all the stills that would lead her to find the killer’s identity. “So what do we see?”
    “The bodies are left in the exact same pose. Arm outstretched, head tilted up unnaturally as if looking toward something, and clothes rearranged to cover the fact that their backs have been ripped open,” Dean said.
    “Last night’s butchery of the woman’s back was less than perfect, not his usual standard of clean cuts through the skin, yet everything was still arranged back in place. I’d say he felt rushed.” Rafe leaned in to one particular still and Alona reached in and enlarged the photo. “I’ll have to remember we can do that now instead of straining my eyes.” Rafe thanked her. “However stuck for time he was, he still made time to leave his signature pose.”
    “There was quite a bit of foot traffic past that alley when I was called in last night. The local bar had a late-night party going on. That could have hindered him if he was aware people were nearby who could stumble by while he was doing his thing.” Dean pointed at the photos. “He doesn’t tend to go very far into an alley with them or even hide them once he’s done. He seems to drag them toward the biggest shadow and start in on them there.”
    Rafe rubbed at the permanent frown line etched deep in her forehead. “I wish we could have pinned this on Marcus Armitage. He was damned handy with that knife, and he was certainly big enough to render a woman helpless.” She shook her head ruefully. “Even one armed with a gun.” Chewing at her lip, she searched the photos for