Murder On The Menu: The 1st Nikki Hunter Mystery (Nikki Hunter Mysteries) Read Online Free Page A

week after Laura’s. A librarian had been killed in an alley behind the I-Ching bar.
    “Are you talking about the librarian?” I asked. “Is there a connection?”
    He took a sip of coffee and looked into the cup as though he thought there might be a cockroach swimming in it, then set it down on the table.
    “Both victims were female and they were both killed in Redwood City. No relationship between them that we can find. Not yet anyway.” He started to raise his cup again, thought better of it, and pushed it aside. “I shouldn’t be telling you this. You’ll have to keep it to yourself.”
    “No problem.”
    He looked at me, probably trying to decide if I was trustworthy.
    “I took some pages out of the binder before I showed it to you,” he said. “There was something unusual about the weapon.”
    He paused and I held my breath.
    “There were two puncture wounds on either side of each stab wound to Laura’s chest.” He was watching my face intently. “Can you handle hearing this?”
    “I’m fine,” I said, blushing. I am such a wimp.
    “We think the knife had a sharp spike on each side of the hilt,” he said. “The librarian who was killed had her throat cut, and there was a second, more shallow cut, just below the one that killed her.”
    I thought about that for a minute, trying to picture it.
    “It was the same knife! ” I said, a little too loudly.
    We both looked around to see if anyone was paying attention.
    “Sorry,” I whispered. “But Laura was suffocated before being stabbed.”
    I had read that much of the autopsy report before I got woozy. To me, this meant that after she was dead the killer still had enough rage left over to need the additional release of stabbing her.
    “Any prints on the plastic bag?” I asked.
    “Just a few unidentifiable partials, some smears and smudges. Probably wore gloves.”
    “Laura’s prints weren’t on the bag?
    “No.”
    If someone put a plastic bag over my head I’d reach up and touch it, and, given the opportunity, I’d yank it off or tear holes in the plastic so I could breathe.
    “Any indication she was restrained?”
    “No ligature marks.”
    “He could have used something soft that wouldn’t leave marks.”
    Anderson looked at me with interest. He nodded, but said nothing.
    “Were her clothes removed from the scene?”
    “We found a leather halter top in the dumpster. No panties, but she may not have been wearing any. We got a partial print from the zipper pull on the halter top.”
    “Wait a minute. If the killer wore gloves, how could you get a partial print?”
    “We couldn’t if he’d been wearing gloves the whole time. Or, if there was more than one assailant, one could have been wearing gloves and one not. The print on the zipper pull may not even be related to the murder. All we know for sure is that it’s not Laura’s print.”
    He looked upset.
    “How long have you been a homicide detective?”
    “I handle crimes against persons,” he said. “We call them body crimes. That includes homicides, assaults, sex crimes, and robberies. I’ve been a detective for seven years. Local homicides are usually a lot more straightforward than this. Gunshots, rival gangs killing each other over colors, domestic violence, that kind of thing.” He paused. “She was so young.”
    Detective Anderson was opening up to me, which was not standard operating procedure. Most cops of my acquaintance are extremely formal and reserved. With any luck he’d care enough to keep me posted on new developments in the investigation. That could save me a lot of time.
    “Does the mother think you’re more likely to find the killer than we are?” he asked.
    “She wants someone dedicated to the investigation reporting directly to her. And yes, she hopes I’ll find the killer and ask him why he murdered her daughter.”
    “You think you can do that?”
    I like a man who’s not afraid to ask straightforward questions. I searched his face for any