Tactical Advantage Read Online Free

Fensom, and a crime scene where a woman had been brutalized and killed, all while freezing her fingers and toes.
    Happy New Year, indeed.
    * * *
    “H EY , GUYS — KEEP IT DOWN , okay?” Nick Fensom apologized for the loud piano music and fourth verse of “Auld Lang Syne” coming from the living room where his family was toasting the New Year with sparkling grape juice and prosecco. He moved down the hallway, farther away from the three generations of Fensoms and extended family who had gathered at his parents’ home to celebrate. “Yeah, Spencer, I know the address. Hell of a way for that woman’s family to ring in the new year.”
    “Which is exactly why I’m not letting time or the weather get in the way of finding answers. I’m tired of that bastard staying one step ahead of us.”
    “You’re preaching to the choir, Spence.” The piano music stopped and the boisterous conversation among his father’s parents, his mom and dad, his mother’s younger brother and his own five younger brothers and sisters faded into the dining room and kitchen. Nick opened the coat closet off the foyer and pulled down the metal box where he stored his badge and sidearm whenever he visited the house where he’d grown up. “Let me say some goodbyes here and explain the situation, and I’ll be there in twenty, thirty minutes, tops.”
    “Sorry to tear you away.” Although their looks and personalities were as different as night and day, Nick and his partner for three years, Spencer Montgomery, had grown as close as Nick was to either of his brothers. “Did your grandmother make her tiramisu cake?”
    Nick chuckled at the rare wistful softening in Spencer’s voice. “Stop by the house later today and I’ll make sure Grandma saves you a piece.”
    “I’ll do that.” Just like that, the glimpse of the human being beneath his partner’s buttoned-up exterior vanished. “I’ll be at the morgue if you find anything useful. In the meantime, I want you and Annie to go over that alley with a fine-tooth comb. If there’s anything—or anyone—close by that makes you suspicious, check it out. And call me.”
    “Does Pee Wee know I’m coming?”
    “It’s CSI Hermann. Or Annie.” Spencer chided Nick’s inclination to tease the petite coworker with the wildly curly dark hair and apparent immunity to his charms. “And yes, she knows. So be on your best behavior. I need her to focus all those smarts on the crime scene—not on trading quips with you.”
    “I’ll mind my manners if she does,” Nick promised. “I’m on my way.”
    He snapped his phone shut and unhooked his belt to fasten on his holster and detective’s badge. Then he grabbed his insulated black leather jacket and gloves and headed toward the noise from the heart of the house.
    Nick paused for a moment in the kitchen archway to watch his mother, grandmother and oldest sister, Natalie, cleaning up second and third helpings of meatballs and soup and homemade bread. His middle sister, Nadine, was dancing in front of the microwave to whatever tune was playing in her earbuds while she waited for a bag of popcorn to pop. His father got a playful smack on the knuckles and a shooing from the room when he sneaked a molasses cookie from the desserts still on the table. His two brothers, Noah and Nate, and Nell, the baby of the Fensom family, were probably back in the dining room, dealing out another hand of penny-ante poker with their grandfather and Uncle George.
    Nick’s chest expanded in a sigh that revealed a mix of happiness and regret. His hand drifted down to the gun belted at his waist. He hated to leave the bustle and conversation, the good food and fun. But this was why he answered calls like Spencer’s in the middle of the night—to protect his city and the people he loved. The sooner he and the task force could put away the Rose Red Rapist, the sooner he’d stop worrying—a little less, at any rate—about his mother and grandmother and sisters