Shock Treatment Read Online Free

between Catherine and Nick. Tousled brown hair was stylishly mussed above his animated features. The former lab rat prided himself on his extensive knowledge of modern pop culture. “ Shock Treatment is basically a horror-movie version of Candid Camera. They scare the crap out of unsuspecting victims, while filming the whole thing with hidden cameras.”
    â€œNever heard of it,” Catherine admitted. Then again, what with working nights and raising a teenage daughter, she hadn’t had much time for watching TV even before she was promoted to supervisor. These days she was lucky if she could squeeze in a movie rental on her days off. “Is it new?”
    â€œNope,” Greg informed her. “It’s been running on cable for at least five seasons now.” His enthusiasm for the program was obvious. “You should have seenthe flesh-eating virus episode. The victim practically had a meltdown before they let him in on the gag.”
    Nick scowled. “Making people think they’re in actual danger? Sounds kind of sadistic to me.” He gave Greg a dubious look. “You actually watch this stuff?”
    â€œSometimes,” Greg confessed a trifle sheepishly. Suddenly, he didn’t seem quite as proud of his expert status. He withdrew back into his own seat. “Call it a guilty pleasure.”
    â€œOr maybe just guilty,” Catherine said.
    Nick killed the engine. Catherine stepped out of the heated Denali into the frigid night air. A blue jacket and gloves fit the weather. F ORENSICS was printed in block letters on back of the jacket. W ILLOWS was written in smaller type above her chest, across from an LVPD star patch. She fished her metallic silver field kit out of the back of the Denali and headed for the entrance. Nick and Greg followed after her, lugging their own kits. She hoped that three CSIs would be enough for this call.
    Unfortunately, the media had already arrived in force. A news copter hovered overhead, making Catherine glad that the crime scene was safely indoors. She’d had too many outdoor sites disturbed by the backwash from an overeager copter. Camera flashes and spotlights nearly blinded her. Reporters shouted questions at her, which she studiously ignored. A Channel 8 news van circled the block, looking for someplace to park. It was obvious that the press had already gotten wind of the show-biz angle.
    Terrific, she thought sarcastically. In her experience, excess media attention just brought down more pressure on the crime lab and made her job that much more difficult. The fact that a TV show was involved, even an obscure cable program, meant publicity, gossip, and all sorts of public-relations baggage to deal with. Ecklie is going to be all over this.
    She flashed her ID at the uni in charge, who lifted the yellow tape to let the CSIs through. Later on, they would have to bag the yellow tape and take it back to the lab for processing, just in case any trace evidence from the scene had transferred to it. At least once, they had actually cracked a case by isolating some cobwebs that had been accidentally carried out by a careless first responder. A mosquito caught in the webbing had contained DNA from the perp, blowing his alibi. Catherine had made sure to look over any crime scene tape ever since.
    Escaping the reporters and their cameras, they entered WaxWorkZ. The club’s dimly lit foyer was a literal chamber of horrors, and not in the bloody sense they were used to. They paused on the red carpet to take in the display. Catherine hadn’t seen this many hardcore killers since her last trip to the penitentiary.
    â€œWow.” Greg gawked at the macabre figures. “Not exactly Madame Tussauds quality, but pretty good.”
    Catherine was less amused. She got enough of murder and mayhem every night at work. She grimaced at the sight of the Miniature Killer immortalized in wax. “Okay, that is way too soon.”
    Natalie Davis had committed