Beverly Long - Dead by Wednesday

Her face was close. Close enough that he could see the tears that still clung to her long lashes. Her skin was a lovely mocha and her lips were pink and inviting. He leaned forward. She stilled.

He bent his head and kissed her. She tasted like spaghetti sauce and red wine, sweet with just a hint of sharpness. And when she pulled back quickly, he had to force himself to let her go, to not demand more.

Her dark eyes were big.

“I hadn’t planned on that,” he said, proving that adult men lied, too. Maybe he hadn’t exactly planned it, but for months, he’d been thinking about kissing Carmen.

She didn’t answer. She just looked as shaken as he felt. A few more strands of her silky hair had fallen down, and her lips were trembling.

Dead by

Wednesday

Beverly Long

www.millsandboon.co.uk

As a child, BEVERLY LONGused to take a flashlight to bed so that she could hide under the covers and read. Once a teenager, more often than not, the books she chose were romance novels. Now she gets to keep the light on as long as she wants, and there’s always a romance novel on her nightstand. With both a bachelor’s and a master’s degree in business and more than twenty years of experience as a human resources director, she now enjoys the opportunity to write her own stories. She considers her books to be a great success if they compel the reader to stay up way past their bedtime.

Beverly loves to hear from readers. Visit www.beverlylong.com, or like her at www.facebook.com/BeverlyLong.Romance.

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To my good friends, who have always believed it was

possible. Your support made the difference.

Now, please pass the wine.

Contents

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Seventeen

Chapter Eighteen

Chapter Nineteen

Epilogue

Excerpt

Chapter One

Wednesday

Robert Hanson looked up from his computer screen when Lieutenant Fischer approached his desk. He wasn’t surprised or worried about the anger that flashed in his boss’s eyes. He knew what had put it there. Had heard the news before he’d gotten off the elevator. Even though it wasn’t his case, it had been enough to make him shove his half-eaten bagel back into the bag and toss his untouched orange juice into the nearest waste can.

“Got another dead kid,” his boss said.

Robert had really, really hoped that the pattern would break. For the past three weeks, there had been a new dead kid every Wednesday morning. This was week four. “I heard,” Robert said.

“Did you hear he was Alderman Franconi’s nephew? His sister’s kid.”

Robert shook his head. Franconi was tight with the mayor. The heat was going to be turned up high. Not that every detective on the force wasn’t already aware of the case and keeping his or her eyes open 24/7 looking for some kind of clue.

“Where’s Sawyer?” his boss asked.

“On his way. He’s dropping Liz and the baby off at Options for Caring Mothers.”

“Okay.” His boss started to walk away. Then stopped, turned and edged close to the metal desk. “Carmen Jimenez still work there?” he asked, his inquiry casual.

“I guess so,” Robert said, working hard to keep his tone neutral. He hadn’t seen Carmen since the wedding three months ago, where his best friend, Sawyer Montgomery, had married her best friend, Liz Mayfield. Robert had been the best man. Carmen had been the maid of honor. Her dress had been an emerald-green and it had wrapped around her body in a way that had made him break out in an instant sweat.

The groom had been calmer than he’d been.

Which was ridiculous because everybody knew that Robert Hanson never got rattled by a woman. He managed relationships. Not the other way around.

“Pretty woman,” Lieutenant Fischer said.

Robert raised an eyebrow. The lieutenant had been married for twenty years and had kids in high school.

“Just making conversation, Hanson. If it’s any consolation, probably nobody but Sawyer and me realized that it was taking everything you had to keep your tongue from hanging out. We just know you better than most.”

Robert shrugged and tried his best to look innocent. “I don’t know what you’re talking about, sir.”

Lieutenant Fischer let out a huff of air. “Of course you don’t. When Sawyer arrives, get your butts out to the scene. Blaze and Wasimole are still there. They could use some help talking to neighbors. Details are online in the case file.”

Robert shifted in his chair and reached for his computer keyboard. But he let his hands rest on the keys.

Visions of Carmen Jimenez weren’t that easy to push aside.

They’d danced, just once. It was expected, after all. And she’d felt perfect in his arms. And her scent had danced around him, making his head spin. He’d made small talk. Nice wedding, wasn’t it? Is your brother starting high school soon? Are you busy at work?

She responded, her voice soft and sexy, with just a bare hint of a Spanish accent. Very pretty. Yes, he is looking forward to playing in the band. Always lots to do.

And when the music had ended, he hadn’t wanted to let go. But she’d stepped away, murmured a quick thank-you and left him standing in the middle of the dance floor.

And later, when he’d tried to catch her eye, she’d looked away, and he wondered if it was deliberate. Toward the end of the evening, he hadn’t had to wonder anymore. He’d finally worked up the courage to ask her to dance again and when she’d seen him approaching, had practically run into the ladies’ restroom to avoid him.

He didn’t need it written on the damn marquee. She wasn’t interested. So he’d forgotten about her.

Right.

Well, he was working on it.

He tapped on his keyboard and brought up the case file. In their system, every entry was date-and time-stamped. Detectives Blaze and Wasimole, two veterans, had been on the scene within fifteen minutes of the call coming in at four o’clock this morning. Shortly after that, they’d entered a brief narrative into the electronic case file and updated it twice after that.

Victim had been discovered by a couple of sanitation workers. They hadn’t touched the body. That was good. More than fifteen residents of nearby apartment buildings had already been interviewed and nobody had seen anything. That was bad.

There were multiple stab wounds, and fingers on his right hand had been severed and removed from the scene.

That wasn’t a surprise.

The first victim had lost two fingers on his left hand. The second, two on the right. The third, two on his left hand.

Left, right. Left, right. There was a crazy symmetry about the handiwork but the end result was always the same. The kids were dead. Although it hadn’t come easy. Coroner had determined in the first three deaths that the mutilation had occurred prior to death, which meant that they’d suffered the pain, then the blood loss; and finally the bastard had killed them by suffocating them by covering their noses with duct tape and stuffing a red bandanna in their mouths.