Plain Jane Read Online Free Page A

tonight, yet it was the single building he could not enter.
    A two-year-old restraining order barred him from entering the morgue or even approaching within one hundred feet. Even if that were somehow lifted, the DA would never officially sanction what Kent needed to do, for fear of contaminating the chain of evidence. That, and the minor fact that Kent had no medical training.
    For the span of a breath, anger welled again at Nicole. If only she had not stopped him at the crime scene. Just a few more moments in that wretched alley, and he would have known if Plain Jane had claimed his trophy.
    As quickly as the anger rose, the hot burn faded. Not that Nicole wasn’t to blame, but Kent could not dwell again on the detective. He needed laser-sharp focus if he had any hope of catching the killer.
    Kent could still feel the firm grip of her fingers on his arm. Damn, she had been pissed. He might even have a few bruises. But the touch that lingered most was the gentle laying of her hand upon his shoulder. Why the hell had she done that? Why had she reached out to him like she used to? He’d been perfectly content glowering at her and her partner-boy toy. Perfectly happy to secretly pine for her unattainable affection.
    For months they had worked at arm’s length. Alternating between apathy and begrudging acceptance. Their relationship was right where he liked it.
    Now she had to go and cover for him again. Just like the old days. Just like the old nights when he would hold her until she fell asleep, then watch her breathe in and out. He would lie motionless beside her, gaining a sense of quiet and peace, before he left their bed to go stalk another killer.
    Damn, but she’d felt good in his arms. The smell of her hair. The taste of the sweat on her skin after she had worked out. His body remembered the sensation even better than his mind. And this was not the echo of some pervert’s lust when he stalked victims. This was his own desire. His own need. And that is what made it so painful. Nearly unbearable.
    Kent shook his head, trying to clear Nicole from his thoughts, but simply ended up scattering rainwater from his hair. That’s why he could not allow his mind to touch upon the detective. It always led him down a path he couldn’t follow.
    Gritting his teeth, Kent forced himself to stare at the morgue’s loading dock. The body should have been here by now. Did Nicole suspect his plan and have the corpse shipped to the FBI’s body shop in Kansas City instead?
    His concern had been premature, as the medical examiner’s van hydroplaned into the parking lot. A spray of dirty water washed over him as the transport skidded to a stop. Kent did not even bother to wipe the grunge off. His renewed pinpoint focus would not let him. Nothing else mattered.
    Joann, or what was left of Joann, had arrived.
    A young morgue attendant, one who Kent did not recognize from two years ago, rushed out the thick double doors. Protecting a “Slipknot” leather choker, the slim attendant pulled his white coat over his head.
    The storm’s fury had withered to a sprinkle as the driver, wearing a beat-up and stained, yet officially licensed, NASCAR jacket, got out of the van and opened the door.
    “Got another one for you.”
    “Man, would people stop dying or what? It’s going to be a week before we process all these stiffs.”
    The driver seemed unimpressed by the younger man’s bluster. “They want a preliminary report this morning.”
    “Yeah, right.”
    “By 9:00 a.m.”
    The wiry attendant did a double take before he answered, “Are they huffing formaldehyde?” When the driver did not respond, he continued, “I’ve got three homicides for McGregor to cut before this one.”
    “They want to know if she got sliced by Plain Jane.”
    “Oh man, you’re kidding!”
    “Nope,” the driver said flatly. “They need to know first thing if he took his usual trophy or not.”
    Kent recognized the look on the attendant’s face. His