Karen Rose - Suspense 07 - I Can See You, ciekawe, Karen Rose

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I Can See You – Suspense 07
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I Can See You
Suspense – Book 7
By Karen Rose
Prologue
Minneapolis, Saturday, February 13, 9:10 p.m.
I Can See You – Suspense 07
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ShewsshyNervousMousyMidfortiesnddowdy,eventhoughshe’dobviouslydressedfor
theoccsioninnuglybrownsuitSheshouldn’thvebothered
MrthBrisbnewsjustshe’dexpectedHe’dbeenwtchingherfromcrossthecrowded
coffee shopforclosetonhournowEverytimethedooropened,she’dstrighten,hereyes
growing bright if a man entered. But the man would always sit elsewhere, ignoring her, and
each time, her eyes grew a little less bright. Still she waited, watching the door. After an hour,
the anticipation in her eyes had become desperation. He wondered how much longer her
bottom-of-the-barrel self-esteem would keep her waiting. Hoping.
He’dfoundburstingtheirbubblessimplyddedtohisfun
Finally she glanced at her watch with a sigh and began to gather her purse and coat. One hour,
six minutes, and forty-two seconds. Not bad. Not bad at all.
The barista behind the counter aimed her a sympathetic look from behind his horn-rimmed
glsses“It’ssnowingoutsideMybehegottiedup”
Mrthshookherhed,defetinthegesture“I’msuretht’sit”
Thebristflshednernestsmile“Youbecrefuldrivinghome”
“Iwill”
It was his cue to exit, stage left. He slipped out of the side door in time to see Martha Brisbane
huddled against the wind as she made her way to her beat-up old Ford Escort, mincing her
steps in the two-inch heels that looked as if they pinched her fat feet. She managed to get to
her car before the waterworks began, but once started, Martha didn’tstopcrying,notwhen
she pulled out of her parking place, not when she got on the highway. It was a wonder she
didn’trunofftherodndkillherself
Drive carefully, Martha. I need you to arrive home in one piece.
By the time she parked in front of her apartment, her tears had ceased and she was sniffling,
her face red and puffy and chapped from the wind. She stumbled up the stairs to her
prtmentbuilding,grpplingwiththehevybgsofctfoodndlittershe’dpurchsedtthe
pet store before arriving at the coffee shop.
Therewssecuritycmerinthebuilding’slobby,butitwsbrokenHe’dmdesureoftht
days ago. He swept up the stairs and opened the door for her.
“YourhndsrefullCnIhelpyou?”
She shook her head, but mangedterysmile“No,I’mfineButthnkyou”
Hesmiledbck“Theplesureismine”Whichwouldsoonbeverytrue
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Wearily she trudged up three flights of stairs to her apartment, teetering on the two-inch heels
as she balanced the heavy bags. She wsn’tpyingttentionShedidn’tknowhestoodbehind
her, waiting for her to put the key in her lock.
She set the bags down, fumbled for her key.
ForGod’ssake,womanIdon’thaveallnight
Hurry up.
Finally she opened her door, picked up the bags, and pushed the door open with her
shoulder.
Now
. He leapt forward, clamping his hand over her mouth and twisting her around into the
apartment with a fluid motion. She struggled, swinging her heavy bags as he closed her door
and leaned back against it, dragging her against him. A pistol against her temple had her
struggles magically ceasing.
“Holdstill,Mrth,”hemurmured,“ndIjustmightletyoulive”sifthtwsgoingto
happen.
Not.
“Nowputdownthebgs”
Her bags dropped to the floor.
“Better,”hemurmuredShewsshkinginterror,justthewyhelikedit
Herwords,muffledginsthishnd,soundedliketerrified“Plese,plese”Tht’swhthis
victims always said. He liked a polite victim.
He looked around with a sneer. Her apartment was a disgusting mess, books and magazines
stacked everywhere. The surface of her desk was obscured by the cups of coagulated coffee,
Post-itnotes,ndnewsppersthtshe’dpckedroundherstte-of-the-art computer.
Her clothes were pure nineties, but her computer was brand new. It figured. Nothing but the
best for her forays into fantasyland.
Hepressedtheguntohertemplehrderndfeltherflinchginsthim“I’mgoingtomovemy
hand. If youscrem,Iwillkillyou”
Sometimes they screamed. Always he killed them.
Heslidhishndfromhermouthtoherthrot“Don’thurtme,”shewhimpered“PleseI’ll
giveyoumyvlublesTkewhtyouwnt”
“Oh,Iwill,”hesidquietly“Desiree”
Shestiffened“Howdidyouknowtht?”
“BecuseIknoweverythingboutyou,MrthWhtyourellydoforlivingWhtyoulove
ndwhtyoufertheverymost”Stillpressingtheguntohertemple,herechedintohiscot
pocket for the syringe. “IseellIknowllUptondincludingthemomentyouwilldieWhich
wouldbetonight”
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Chapter One
Minneapolis, Sunday, February 21, 6:35 p.m.
Homicide detective Noah Webster stared up into the wide, lifeless eyes of Martha Brisbane
with a sigh that hung in the freezing air, just as she did. Within him was deep sadness, cold
rage, and an awful dread that had his heart plodding hard in his chest.
It should have been an unremarkable crime scene. Martha Brisbane had hung herself in the
conventional wayShe’dloopedropeoverhookinherbedroomceilingndtiedvery
trditionlnooseShe’dclimbeduponnupholsteredstool,whichshe’dthenkickedsideThe
onlythingremotelyuntrditionlwsthebedroomwindowshe’dleftopenndthe
thermosttsshe’dturnedoffTheMinnesotwinterhdservedtopreserveherbodywell
Establishing time of death would be a bitch.
Like many hangers, she was dressed for the occasion, makeup applied with a heavy hand. Her
red dress plunged daringly, the skirtfrozenroundherdnglinglegsShe’dwornhersexiest
five-inch red stilettos, which now lay on the carpet at her feet. One red shoe had fallen on its
side while the other stood upright, the heel stuck into the carpet.
It should have been an unremarkable crime scene.
Butitwsn’tndshestredupintothevictim’semptyeyes,chillththdnothingtodo
with the near-zerotempsinMrthBrisbne’sbedroomwentslidingdownhisspineThey
weresupposedtobelieveshe’dhungherselfTheywere supposed to chalk it up to one more
depressed, middle-aged single woman. They were supposed to close the case and walk away,
without a second thought.
tlesttht’swhttheonewho’dhungherherehdintendedndwhynot?Tht’sexctly
what had happened before.
“Theneighborfoundher,”thefirstrespondingofficersid“CSUisonthewySoretheME
techsDoyouneednythingelse?”
Anything else to close it quickly, was the implication. Noah forced his eyes from the body to
look at the officer“Thewindow,OfficerPrttWsitopenwhenyougothere?”
Prttfrownedslightly“YesNobodytouchednything”
“Theneighborwhoclleditin,”Nohpressed“Shedidn’topenthewindow?”
“Shedidn’tentertheprtmentShetriedknockingonthedoorbutthevictimdidn’tnswer,
so she went around back, planning to bang on the window. She thought the victim would be
sleepsincesheworksnightsInsted,sheswthisWhy?”
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BecauseI’ve seen this scene before
, he thought, déjà vu squeezing his chest so hard he could
barely breathe. The body, the stool, the open window. Her dress and shoes, one standing up,
one lying on its side.
And her eyes
.
Nohhdn’tbeenbletoforgetthelstvictim’seyes,lidsgluedopen,cruellyforcedtoremin
wide and empty. This was going to be very bad. Very bad indeed.
“Seeifyoucnfindthebuildingmnger,”hesid“I’llwitforCSUndtheME”
OfficerPrttgvehimshrplook“ndDetectiveGQ?”
NohwincedThtJckPhelpswsn’thereyetwsnot,unfortuntely,unusulHisprtnerhd
beendistrctedrecentlyWhichwsthepolitewyofsyinghe’ddroppedthebllmorethn
few times.
“DetectivePhelpsisonhiswy,”hesid,withmore confidence than he felt.
Pratt grunted as he left in search of the manager and Noah felt a twinge of sympathy for Jack.
Officerswho’dnevermetJckdisrespectedhim
Thanks to that magazine
. A recent article on
the homicide squad had portrayed them as supermen. But Jack had borne the brunt, his face
adorning the damn cover.
ButJck’srepsprty-loving lightweight started long before the magazine hit the stands
three weeks before and it was a shame. Focused, Jack Phelps was a good cop. Noah knew his
partner had a quick mind, seeing connections others passed over.
NohlookedupintoMrthBrisbne’semptyeyesTheyweregoingtoneedllthequick
minds they could get.
His cell buzzed.
Jack
. But it was his cousin Brock, from whose dinner table Noah had been
clledBrockndhiswife,Trin,werecops,they’dtkenitinstrideInfmilyofcops,itws
rreSundydinnerwhenoneofthemwsn’tclledwy
“I’mtiedup,”Nohnswered,bypssinggreeting
“Soisyourprtner,”BrockrespondedBrockhdbeenhededtoSl’sBrtowtchthegme
WhichmentthtJckwstSl’s,too
Damn him
.
“I’veclledhim
twice
,”NohgrittedBothcllshdgonetoJck’svoicemil
“He’shvingdrinkswithhisnewestblondeYouwntmetotlktohim?”
NohlookeduptMrthBrisbne’slifelesseyesndhisngerbubbledtightlyItwsn’tthe
firsttimeJckhdblownoffhisduty,butbyGod,itwouldbehislst“NoI’mgoingtogetthe
first responder back in here and come down there myself”
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