would explain. “Norm used to be a sharpshooter. More than once, he was offered a job on the SWAT team.”
“Oh.”
“Well, let me go inside and see what we have. Wait a minute and give me space before coming in. I don’t need either of you in my way,” Bobby said.
“Got it,” Drew said, then watched Bobby hurry inside.
The beat cop walked off, too, and the minute he did, Toni turned to Andrew. “Is that proper procedure, Drew?”
Here we go…. He knew what she was asking but decided to let her spell it out anyway, while inwardly telling himself it had nothing to do with the fact that he liked the sound of her voice. “What?”
“Why aren’t we in there with the ME while he’s doing his thing?” she asked.
“Because that’s the way we do things here, Toni. Just chill. Bobby is good. Thorough. I’ve learned it’s best to let him do his thing so we don’t run ourselves ragged making assumptions. Bobby won’t take long.”
And, proving Drew’s words, a uniformed officer came to the door and called out to them. “Detectives Logan and Oliver, the ME wants you.”
“Now we can see what Bobby’s got.”
But as Andrew headed for the steps, that eerie feeling returned.
• • •
Just chill…
A woman had been brutally murdered, and Drew told her to chill? Toni was aware that all police departments had their own way of working, but procedure was procedure. He’d attended the same workshops she had six years ago in San Diego. Drawing in a deep breath, she turned to follow him. The last thing she wanted to think about was their time in San Diego. She had done so earlier and was convinced that’s why she was feeling all hot and bothered.
Toni glanced around when they entered the house. It was a pretty nice place, neat as a pin, so she could dismiss robbery as a motive. In her experience, thieves weren’t all that tidy. Drew met her gaze, obviously coming to the same conclusion, then addressed the officer who’d called them inside. “What do you have?”
“Victim living alone. No signs of forced entry. Doesn’t look like anything was taken. Her bedroom looks as neat as the rest of the house, except for the bed. Looks like a tussle might have taken place on it. We’re still checking for prints.”
At that moment, Bobby came down the stairs. “Victim’s a black female, approximate age, late twenties. Cause of death, wrists cut.”
Toni raised a brow. “Both?”
“Yes, and by the directions the cuts were made, it wasn’t suicide. Pending autopsy, of course. I suspect she died within minutes due to blood loss. She bled out like a hog.”
“Damn,” Drew said, followed by several more expletives.
“There’s no sign of a murder weapon, although I suspect a knife versus a razor.”
“Sexual assault?’
“None that I can tell.”
“Okay, let’s see what we have,” Toni said, moving past Drew to go up the stairs. When she entered the bedroom, she was glad she hadn’t eaten breakfast that day. There was so much blood. She wasn’t the squeamish type, but what she saw nearly made her sick to her stomach.
No matter how many years she’d spent as a detective, there was no way she couldn’t be affected by such a senseless loss of life. The body in the bed had probably been somebody’s daughter, sister, friend. Now she was dead and her last moments had to have been horrific.
There was not a mark on her beautiful face, but the rest of her… She was wearing a bathrobe and both it and the bedcovering were drenched in blood. What animal would do such a thing?
Toni knew the moment Drew stepped into the room. She was about to ask another officer, whose badge identified him as Jerome Ford, a question about the woman’s ID, when Drew began cursing loudly. What in the world…?
She, like everyone else, turned to stare at him. “What’s wrong?” she asked him.
He didn’t say anything for a minute as he simply stared at the lifeless body. Then, he said, “Her name is Maria Tindal. At least, that’s the name she gave me, and I have no reason to think she’d lie about it. I met her two nights ago at the gun range. I had planned to hook up with her this weekend.”
Toni inwardly drew in a deep breath, telling herself the idea of Drew and the dead woman hooking up for a weekend of hot, passionate sex meant nothing to her. But it did. Before she could stop herself,