Above, the sky was leaden, the clouds so heavy they looked ready to burst. Thunder rumbled, an ominous sound that vibrated through his body.
She stopped and breathed deeply. Electricity tingled across his fingers where they touched her arm, a sensation that was warm rather than threatening. It was almost as if she were sucking in the power of the storm itself.
"You okay?" he asked.
Though she was still unsteady on her feet, she definitely looked better than she had five minutes ago. But that didn't really surprise him. When her feet had been cut to the bone by laser fire, she'd still managed to walk when most people would have been unconscious.
"Yes." She took another deep breath, and color began to warm her cheeks. "Let's go."
She shook off his hand and walked unaided into the building. But despite the show of strength, her hand trembled when she punched the elevator button.
"Maybe you should sit down here and wait," he suggested, indicating the nearby bench.
She gave him a wry smile. "You're not getting rid of me that easily."
He was beginning to see that. He followed her into the elevator and pressed the button for the twenty-third floor. The doors closed and the elevator zoomed upwards.
She gulped at the sudden movement, and sweat began to redarken the red-gold strands of hair near her temple. She leaned back against the wall and closed her eyes, full lips pursed. Fighting her stomach, he thought.
She had guts; there was no doubt about it. If he had been in the market for a partner, he certainly wouldn't have found a better one.
The elevator came to smooth stop. Once the door had opened, he led the way through the foyer. Two State police officers guarded the door at the end of the corridor. He dug out his ID, and showed it to them. The two men stepped aside, allowing them access into another corridor.
The metallic odor hit almost immediately. The bloodshed had to be bad if he could smell it this far away from the body.
A third officer glanced up from a com-unit. "A.D. Stern?"
Gabriel nodded. "And Agent Ryan."
The detective glanced at Sam and almost instantly dismissed her. Either he wasn't very perceptive when it came to people, or he didn't care a great deal for female law officers. Or maybe he was just plain stupid, Gabriel thought, and looked at the man's ID. "What have we got, O'Neal?"
"A woman, mid-twenties, in the reception area. Multiple knife wounds to the throat and stomach regions. Apparently she's the resident doc here."
"Time of death?"
"Estimated to be around twelve-thirty."
During lunchtime. They probably wouldn't find many witnesses. "No sign of forced entry?"
The detective shook his head. "No witnesses so far, either."
"What about the security cameras?"
"Several. We're investigating them now."
"I want copies sent to my office."
The detective nodded. Gabriel continued to the small reception area.
It was worse than any of the previous murders. Blood had sprayed across the white walls, splashed over the cheerful flowery patterns on the carpet and across the pristine whiteness of the reception desk. The body lay between the desk and the sofa, one hand outstretched, reaching for the nearby phone.
He glanced at Sam. She was sheet-white. "Why don't you sit, while I check out the body?"
"Why? Afraid I'll fall over and contaminate the crime-scene?" She crossed her arms and glared at him mutinously.
Anger surged, and it was made worse by the fact that he only had himself to blame for her reaction. If he didn't treat her like shit, she wouldn't be flinging it back at him. "Check the damn desk, then. See if there's anything there."
She nodded. He squatted beside the body. Overhead, the crimecorder buzzed. "ID please."