The Love Killings Read Online Free Page B

restaurants, he never looked back for the man he had just seen on the plane. He let it go and breezed past security.
    Agent K. Brown turned out to be easy enough to spot, and Matt’s guess proved right. She was a she in her late twenties, holding an eight-by-ten card with his last name written across the front and offering a warm, gracious smile as they shook hands.
    “Kate Brown,” she said. “Good flight?”
    “Not bad. The story broke.”
    She nodded. “Yeah.”
    She pointed toward the sign to baggage claim, and they started walking.
    “We keep an apartment here in the city for long stay over’s, but something’s come up. I heard from Doyle that you didn’t get much sleep last night. I hope you don’t mind if we take a short drive.”
    “I’m fine,” he said. “I’m still on California time. What’s happened?”
    “Dr. Stanley Westbrook, a profiler from the FBI’s Behavioral Analysis Unit, wants to brief us first thing in the morning.”
    Matt winced. They already knew who they were looking for, and he wondered what a profiler could contribute this far into the investigation. The murders didn’t begin with the Strattons. They began nineteen months ago with the horrific death of Millie Brown.
    “Okay,” Matt said. “So where are we going tonight?”
    “Doyle and my boss, Wes Rogers, you’ll meet him tomorrow, he’s the special agent in charge of the Philadelphia office. They want you to walk through the crime scene before the briefing tomorrow with Westbrook. They want you to get a feel for what happened.”
    Matt didn’t say anything. He was anxious to see the Strattons’ home, and glad that he wouldn’t have to wait until morning.
    They reached baggage claim, found Matt’s flight on the information monitor, and walked down the line to the carousel on the end. As they waited, Matt gave Brown a quick glance. She was easy to look at—her shoulder-length hair a mix of blond and light brown that was either natural or very well done. Her eyes were a vibrant blue that sparkled even in the harsh fluorescent lights of an airport. Her body, too well drawn to be hidden by her open ski parka or the dark-gray slacks and matching jacket that no doubt was the uniform of the day. But what struck Matt most was Brown’s presence, her angular face that broadcasted her obvious strength and intelligence.
    She came off true, and his first impression was that he liked her.
    He looked away as he heard the first bag hit the conveyor belt with a heavy thud. He wondered what had happened in Brown’s life that lured her into law enforcement. Was she following a parent’s footsteps? Or was she wounded and looking to heal by spending the rest of her life chasing ghosts and righting wrongs?
    After a short wait, Matt’s duffel bag slid down the ramp and onto the belt. But as he walked over to grab it, he looked up and caught that man staring at him again. The one he’d seen on the plane just a few minutes ago. Even worse, the man had his cell phone out and was pointing it at him. It seemed clear that he wasn’t using the phone. He was faking a conversation while either recording video of Matt or taking his picture.
    Matt hoisted the bag over his shoulder and followed Brown toward the exit. He was thinking about the hit man his father had hired to kill him. The man Matt had shot to death on top of Mount Hollywood. Turning back to the baggage carousel, Matt gave the man with the cell phone another hard look. He was still pretending to talk to someone. Still pointing the device at him as if using the camera.
    Matt turned away. The read he’d made on the plane felt righteous now. He could depend on it. He had a new shadow, and it had followed him to Philadelphia on a cold night in early December. A man with ultra-pale skin who looked like he spent most of his time in the dark. The shrink in LA could call it paranoia if he liked, but Matt would treat it the way his gut told him to. It was all about survival. All about