Slave to Love Read Online Free Page A

absorbent material found in the back wounds.”
    “Absorbent? Like diapers?”
    “Exactly. We think he soaked up the blood as soon as he stabbed them in the back. Maybe even stabbed them through it to prevent spatter.”
    “A neat freak?”
    “Definitely. He washed any blood off the woman and changed the bed sheets afterwards, too. Forensics is checking all that, including the detergent residue for a match to the house linens. We’re hoping he brought his own.”
    “If he did, what did he do with the blood-soaked ones?”
    “Must have taken them with him.”
    “So hopefully we’ll find them at his place when we catch him.”
    He snorted softly. “Hope springs eternal.”
    “So he’s let into the house by the victims, with at least two knives, leather gloves, ligatures, a pack of diapers and possibly a change of sheets. Sheesh. Think he brought the teddies, too?”
    “Presumably. We have a team on trying to find the source.”
    There was a pause as she digested all that, then Bobby went on. “Forensics reports are in the files. Basically, what they say is we got squat from the crime scenes in terms of traceable, usable evidence. But of course, our bad guy left a dandy pile of stuff for the profiler.”
    “Special Agent Tim Woodruff of the FBI has been working with us on that,” Mick said. “He'll be in for a briefing tomorrow.” He caught her eye. “You'll want to read the profile extra carefully. This is the killer who'll be looking us over at the Brimstone fetish club. To nab him we need to know him as well as we know each other.”
    “Well, that won't be tough,” she muttered as he pulled in behind a jumble of police cruisers, a pair of ambulances, the department's mobile Field Identification Specialist Unit’s forensics van and a fire truck. She looked around in surprise, glancing up and down the street. “Oh!”
    “What's wrong?”
    “This is just a couple blocks from where I live.”
    “Then it looks like I've picked the right person to work with,” he remarked casually, “killers being creatures of habit, and all.”
    She looked spooked for a second, but then snapped out of it. In spite of himself, again Mick was impressed.
    He'd been rough on her today. More than rough. Not because he wanted to be a prick or treat her like an idiot, as she’d accused. But because he’d had to know if she could take the heat. Where they were headed it was going to get a hell of a lot hotter. She'd come through with colors flying high. If he'd thought any differently he wouldn't have chosen her to fulfill the most crucial role in his plan, other than his own.
    The Teddie Killer was on the verge of causing mass hysteria in the usually quiet suburban neighborhood where he struck. And those murders ate at Mick's insides like no one would ever know.
    Yeah, this one was personal. Down to the blood and bones personal.
    He thought about the woman he'd hand-picked to help him bring down the fucker. She'd shocked him back in his office when she'd questioned his motives for choosing her. Everyone knew how much Caroline Palmer wanted to be in Homicide. It took a hell of a strong person to look a situation in the eye and know when to question it. That was the moment he'd decided he wanted her, and nobody else would do. He wanted that strength for himself.
    For his team, he mentally corrected.
    But right now he wasn't sure whether he should be elated by Caroline's agreement to help him, or to run like hell for cover. Every time he looked at her he lost his concentration.
    Not that she was beautiful in the classic sense. Sure, her hair was great, she had a pleasant face and a curvy, feminine body he wouldn't kick out of bed—but he'd seen better. And yet...
    And yet, the woman’s half-lidded looks and sensual moves could make a man’s temperature rise in an Arctic snowstorm. Something about those big eyes, the color of a Caribbean sky at twilight. And those hooker outfits sure didn't help.
    Yeah, he was having second