Murder in the Smokies Read Online Free Page A

in the crime lab,” she guessed.
    “I honestly don’t know. He just emailed me the information. I didn’t ask any questions about his source.”
    “So you know there are plenty of similarities between the murders, even if the victims’ ages and lifestyles aren’t that similar.”
    “Crime scene similarities, sure. Late-evening times of death, the first three, at least, killed with a knife from the victim’s own kitchen. But none of the murders take place in their homes. They were all killed somewhere else and returned to their homes after death. No evidence left behind.” His eyes narrowed. “Which I suppose might raise the question of whether your perp could be a cop. Is it a theory you’re seriously entertaining?”
    “There are a lot of theories I’m entertaining at the moment,” she admitted. “We still don’t know how he gains entrance. Never any sign of a break-in. And how do you stab women to death and leave zero evidence at the scene? No excess blood, despite the bodies often being partially exsanguinated. Little sign of a struggle.”
    “He seems to surprise his victims when they’re vulnerable,” Sutton said thoughtfully. “Late at night, when most people are in bed. These women were all attacked when they were asleep, I’d bet.”
    For a second, an image flitted through her mind. She saw herself, head down on the desk in her study, dead asleep. It was as if she were looking at herself through someone else’s eyes. She tamped down a hard shudder.
    “Is something wrong?” Sutton asked.
    She shook her head. “No. And yes, we believe they were attacked when they were asleep. Clearly he takes them and kills them somewhere else—explaining the lack of blood and other evidence where the bodies are found. Then he returns them to their beds. That’s a crazy way to kill people, but that looks to be how all four murders happened. What are the odds they’re unrelated?”
    “Nonexistent.”
    Well, damn, she thought, her heart sinking. I’ve just spilled my guts about a serial murder spree to a civilian just because he’s sexy and I’m weak. What the hell have I done?
    As if reading her mind, Sutton leaned toward her, laying his hand on top of hers on the table. “You know I’m not going to use anything you told me in any way that would hurt your case.”
    Her skin seemed to burn where he touched her. She pulled her hand away. “Make damned sure you don’t. And if you find anything I need to know, you’ll call me. Right?”
    “Call you at the police station?”
    She almost flinched at the thought. The last thing she needed was a call from Sutton Calhoun coming through the department phone system. Might as well put a sign on her back—stupid girl detective can’t keep her mouth shut or solve a case without outside help. “Cell phone,” she said, pulling her business card from her wallet and pushing it across the table to him.
    He sat back and studied the card for a moment, his expression thoughtful. “I never would have figured you for the detective type, back in the day. I thought you’d be a teacher or something. But now that I think of it, the clues were all there. You were always a curious little thing. Always saw a mystery in everything. Remember that time you thought old Mr. Valery had killed his wife because you hadn’t seen her in days?”
    She smiled. “Well, I was right that she was missing. How was I supposed to know she’d had a fight with him and gone to stay with her mother for a few days?”
    He grinned. “Good thing I talked you out of calling the police.”
    “You just didn’t trust the police in general.”
    His smile faded. “Yeah, we Calhouns didn’t exactly have any friends in blue. You never called the police if you could avoid it.”
    “And here you are a private eye.”
    “And you’re a detective.” He cocked his head, his hazel eyes narrowing. “Aren’t you a little young to be a detective? You’re what, twenty-eight?