Yellow Ribbons Read Online Free

counted him a friend as well as an associate, Lani refused to show weakness of any kind in front of anyone. A woman marine officer in a law enforcement job? As much as the world might want to believe otherwise, it was still a man’s world. A smart woman showed she had the balls to handle it.
    She stopped at the rear of the ambulance long enough to tell the girls she’d be right back and found Greg squatting before them, the girls spilling everything they knew about anything. Given his rapport with children, she wasn’t surprised. Of course, hearing confidences was part of who he was. Greg had an open-door, no judgment policy. People came to him. He made things better.
    Lani braced herself for the inevitable clash with Benny Juarez and headed toward the house.
    When she stepped up to the door, Jordan held out some disposable booties to cover her boots. He never said a word. His gray-green eyes said volumes, though, none of it good. She slipped on the booties and crossed the threshold, expecting chaos. Other than the normal lived-in clutter of toys, magazines, and life, the living room was immaculate and the picture of domestic bliss. Family portraits covered the walls, the most prominent being a picture taken of husband and wife at the Marine Corps ball. It usurped a smaller wedding photo.
    Lani recognized the woman. Regina Whittaker frequented the gym. In fact, she’d seen her there earlier tonight; she just hadn’t known her name until now. Lani went to the gym to work out, not make friends. Maybe if she had taken the time to make friends, Regina Whittaker would still be alive. They would have spoken, not bypassed each other. A few minutes of chitchat that might have saved the woman’s life. Lani had no friends to speak of, with the exception of Cheryl Boyer, and that friendship was tenuous at best. As the deputy provost marshal, Lani had to keep her distance to avoid conflicts of interest. This was the cost.
    She pulled in a shaky breath and focused on the scene. Two deputy sheriffs were doing a preliminary check, looking for possible evidence outside the primary scene to help support upcoming conclusions. Neither looked her way. The true business end of the crime was down the hallway ahead.
    Wary of destroying evidence, she walked toward the bedroom. Cream-colored carpet pile was flattened from foot traffic but otherwise clean with no hint of anything other than the need for a good vacuuming. Halfway there the stench of death crawled up her nose.
    “Any idea how long ago this happened?”
    Jordan moved up beside her. “No clue. Kids have little concept of time as we know it.”
    No, but they sure as hell knew fear.
    Lani and Jordan went no farther than the doorway. Regina Whittaker lay spread-eagle, gagged and blindfolded with what looked like pieces of the lime green T-shirt she’d had on earlier. Yellow nylon rope bound her to the king-size bed. Her toes were pointed, fists clenched. Lani was glad for the makeshift mask. She didn’t want to see the terror that would have frozen Regina’s eyes open the moment she’d died.
    Blood spatter painted the walls and cream-colored carpet. Pools of it surrounded her body. Lani couldn’t see the wounds for all the blood. The room itself was trashed—lamps broken, clothing in shreds, high heels ripped off shoes. Rage. Pure rage had driven this attack.
    Tipton’s body was sprawled on the floor beside her; his eyes were bugged out. A gaping wound yawned from his throat. The butcher knife presumably used was near his bloodied right hand.
    Something was off about the scene, but Lani couldn’t figure out what it was. She studied the knots and rope binding the woman. Little care had been given for her safety. Burns from the yellow nylon rope ringed her wrists and ankles. The knots would have tightened with every move she made, cutting off circulation. Either the two were amateurs, or binding her had been part of the murder. If it was the latter, that smacked of