by April Hunt
She pulled the collection cart away from pedestrian foot traffic and kicked the wheel lock into position. On her right, a generator hummed to life. Overhead lights blinked once before flooding the entire alley into pseudo-daylight.
Zoey’s lungs froze.
Having worked the string of homicides for the last six months in the lab, she thought she’d be okay, but pictures and written reports had nothing on the dark reality that rooted her feet to the ground.
Laid out on a pristine white blanket, as if her killer had wanted to make her comfortable, was the young victim. Her sleek blond hair had been meticulously brushed and fanned out over her shoulders; the wounds on her wrists, carefully bandaged.
The killer staged her resting place like he’d done the others—far enough from people so as to avoid detection himself, close enough for the woman to be discovered quickly.
“Wright.” Mason’s voice ripped Zoey from her trance. He watched her carefully, no annoyance or judgment on his face. Only concern. “You okay?”
Zoey forced her returning midnight snack back down her throat and let out a slow breath. “Yeah. It took me by surprise. I’m sorry.”
“Hell, you don’t need to apologize. When shit like this stops making your stomach roll it’s time to get the fuck out…pardon my language.”
“Do you apologize to all your trainees for swearing?”
“Not a damn one.”
“Then don’t start with me. Tonight, I’m the newbie grunt. Put me to work.”
Mason didn’t need to be told twice. He tilted his head in a slight nod and then immediately snapped orders. In the field, she wasn’t Detective Cade Wright’s little sister. She was the woman who’d hopefully replace Mason as lead CSI when he retired in a few years.
“You know the drill.” Mason tossed her a Tyvek suit and gestured to the far right corner. “We start outside and work our way in. You photograph, drop a placard when needed, and log. Watch where you’re stepping. Once that’s all done, we’ll start back at square one and begin the collection. Questions?”
“Not a one.” Zoey shook her head.
Mason threw a fierce glare to the hovering technicians. “If any of you even think about doing something helpful, don’t. Unless Wright or I give you the okay to breathe, you hold your breath. If you can’t follow that simple rule, get off my scene now. Am I clear?”
“Yes, sir,” a chorus of affirmations sounded around them.
Zoey secured her hair into a low ponytail, and after tugging her suit over her shorts and T-shirt, she donned her plastic booties. Satisfied she looked enough like a condom and wouldn’t bring any contaminants into the crime scene, she grabbed her camera and got to work.
Picture. Placard. Log. Move onward. With her camera in hand, Zoey lost herself in the methodical pattern of canvassing and documenting, repetitive movements that never ceased to put her mind at ease. Before long, she stood two feet away from the victim.
Zoey counted to a long, drawn-out ten, then forced herself to examine the reason DCPD informally dubbed the monster responsible the Beltway Cupid Killer.
The etching.
Its top curves barely peeked out above the blue dress’s sweetheart neckline, but it was there—a perfectly symmetrical heart carved into the flesh over the victim’s sternum. Even without the medical examiner’s report, she knew it would be the lone disfigurement other than bruised wrists and a single needle mark.
“I am so sorry this happened to you.” Zoey battled welling tears.
Around her own age, or maybe a few years younger, the woman could’ve been a teacher or a nurse, maybe a college student from down the block like the last three victims had been.
No matter who she’d been in her life, she didn’t deserve to have her hopes and dreams cut short. This was the difficult part of the job. There was no rewinding time and stepping in before someone got hurt.
There was only picking up the pieces and praying that one of those fragments helped put a loved one’s mind at ease.
Mason crouched on the other side. “I always come in hoping to God that it’s not another one.”
Zoey chiseled her dry tongue off the roof of her mouth. “I didn’t come across a purse or an ID. Did you?”
“Nah. Didn’t expect to since he didn’t leave them behind at the other scenes. The bastard’s nothing if not predictable. We’ll find out who she is and make sure to notify next of kin.” The sky rumbled off in the distance. Mason glanced up and cursed. “That storm’s coming in fast. We need to get this entire scene covered because I’ll be damned if I’m going let a single strand of evidence wash away.”
“I’ll go get the tents,” Zoey volunteered.
She backtracked toward the safe zone, careful not to disturb anything in the process. Less than five seconds into the arduous task of tugging off her protective gear, a familiar tingle formed at the base of her neck.
Her Knox-dar.
The strange, shiver-like phenomenon occurred whenever Knox Steele stood in close proximity, a sad reminder of the embarrassing level of interest she had for Cade’s best friend. But it wasn’t possible.
Knox hadn’t stepped foot in DC in years—over two, to be exact.
“You’re a little far from the lab, aren’t you, angel? You get lost?”
Zoey’s hand stalled on her zipper.
That voice. The impossible became reality because Knox Steele’s low, husky baritone couldn’t be replicated—except by the Knox who visited in her dreams.
Zoey turned on reflex, and came face-to-face with the man himself.
Sexily rumpled, Knox’s dark hair curled over his ears as if he’d rolled out of bed a few minutes ago. Heavily worn blue jeans hung off his trim waist, and a leather jacket and dark cotton tee emphasized his broad chest and even wider shoulders.
Her heart stumbled into a double-time beat, and warmth rushed to her cheeks—and all points south. Under normal circumstances, she’d be ecstatic to realize her feminine parts hadn’t dried up and turned to dust.
But there wasn’t anything normal about Knox’s presence, or the way his alert focus conjured life into her usually dormant libido.
Standing less than three feet away from her teenage fantasy, she’d never been more aware of the fact that with her Tyvek suit zipped to her chin and the hood pulled over her limp blond hair, she could’ve played the principal part in a live-action sex ed presentation. Knox, all six foot three inches of him, looked as if he’d stepped straight off the pages of Bad Boy Weekly.
She bumped her glasses onto the bridge of her nose even though they hadn’t yet fallen, and forcefully put her attention back to shedding her suit. “I’m right where I’m supposed to be.”
“You sure about that? This doesn’t look like the crime lab—or your bed. Does Cade know you’re here?”
“Are you sure about where you are? In case your cell doesn’t have a map app, you’re in DC. Thought you should know since you’ve made it your life’s mission to avoid this place like the plague.”
The muscle in Knox’s jaw ticked wildly. If he’d been someone else, she’d apologize for hitting a nerve. Not with him. A former US Army Ranger like her brother, he could take that and a lot more.
“Hey, Wright!” Mason’s voice shouted, garnering her attention. The older police officer pointed to the sky. “Put a little hustle into it!”
Saved by the grumpy lieutenant.
Without another word, or a glance at Knox, Zoey deposited her suit into a large collection bag—in case any crucial evidence managed to stick on to her person—and handed it over to the tech to put with the others.
Walking back toward the CSI van, she fumed.
Unlike the rest of his brothers, Knox hadn’t returned home after his discharge two years ago. He’d wiped his hands clean of everyone, not even gifting them an occasional I’m-Not-Dead text. And now he was going to stand there, naughty smirk in place, and make comments about her life decisions?
No thank you.
The Zoey Knox had known two long years ago would’ve been tucked into her bed, sound asleep, with her cat, Snuggles, curled next to her pillow. But last year, she vowed that if her bum heart kept throwing obstacles into her daily routine, the least she could do was enjoy life in between the chaos.
Her heart worked fine now, nearly all textbook characteristics of Tetralogy of Fallot resolved. Things that had at one time been a trial were now second nature. She even maintained a healthy exercise routine, and because of her once-a-week self-defense class, could almost throw larger assailants over her shoulder and onto the mats.
But that was something he wouldn’t have known.
Because he hadn’t been around.
Cue mic drop.
Zoey possessed a strength she’d never known before—and yet after one prolonged glance from the eldest Steele brother, breathing ceased being an automatic physical response.
She needed distance to pull her head back on straight.
She needed time to collect her thoughts—and keep down her food.
She needed Knox Steele messing up her life like she needed another hole in her heart.
About the Author
April blames her incurable chocolate addiction on growing up in rural Pennsylvania, way too close to America’s chocolate capital, Hershey. She now lives in Virginia with her college sweetheart husband, two young children, and a cat who thinks she’s a human-dog hybrid. On those rare occasions she’s not donning the cape of her children’s personal chauffer, April’s either planning, plotting, or writing about her next alpha hero and the woman he never knew he needed, but now can’t live without.
To learn more, visit:
AprilHuntBooks.com
Twitter @AprilHuntBooks
Facebook.com/AprilHuntBooks
Instagram @AprilHuntBooks
Also by April Hunt
Heated Pursuit
Holding Fire
Hard Justice
Hot Target (novella)
Deadly Obsession
Lethal Redemption
Acclaim for April Hunt’s Novels
Lethal Redemption
“Fast-paced and action-packed, this swoon-worthy nail-biter is sure to keep readers hooked.”
—Publishers Weekly, starred review
“Hunt’s pace and tension are spot-on. High-stakes, sizzling romantic suspense.”
—Kirkus Reviews
“Fans of military and private security series with brave and vulnerable men and women will enjoy this gritty romantic suspense.”
—Library Journal
Deadly Obsession
“Expect masterful storytelling interwoven with sizzling tension and high-stakes suspense.”
—Cristin Harber, New York Times bestselling author
“Deadly Obsession is a page turner full of sizzling passion, gritty action, and thrilling danger!”
—Rebecca Zanetti, New York Times bestselling author
“With a spunky heroine, a hero to die for, and thrilling action, Deadly Obsession is a keeper!”
—Paige Tyler, New York Times bestselling author
Hard Justice
“4 stars! Entertaining and satisfying.”
—RT Book Reviews
“All kinds of romantic suspense goodness with a side of sexy alpha male.”
—HerdingCats-BurningSoup.com
“Intriguing, passionate, sexy, suspenseful, and at times angst-ridden and funny, Hard Justice is April Hunt at her best. A wonderful, well-written, and addictive romantic suspense read that pulls you in and doesn’t let you go. Excellent characters, entertaining plot, stellar romance.”
—OkieDreams.com
Holding Fire
“Passionate chemistry and nonstop drama drive Hunt’s second book in the adrenaline-charged Alpha Security series.”
—Publishers Weekly
“4 stars! The suspense is ever-present…and the heat between the hero and heroine is intense.”
—RT Book Reviews
“April Hunt has me hooked!”
—HerdingCats-BurningSoup.com
“April Hunt has quickly become one of my one-click authors. Her daring heroes are so damn charming. And with sassy, take-charge women by their sides, it makes for one hell of a ride.”
—NallaReads.com
Heated Pursuit
“Smartly balances slow-burning passion and explosive high-stakes danger. This book kicks off an adventure-packed romance series, and readers will eagerly anticipate the next installment.”
—Publishers Weekly
“4 stars! Fast paced and intriguing.”
—RT Book Reviews
“Fun and sexy.”
—SmexyBooks.com
“April Hunt creates a sexy, thrilling, action-packed story with Heated Pursuit. I could not put this book down.”
—JoJoTheBookaholic.blogspot.com
“A fantastic, fast paced, and well developed debut! A hot alpha saving a feisty woman…what’s not to love?”
—Sidney Halston, USA Today bestselling author
“Heat, humor, and heart-pounding action! I couldn’t turn the pages fast enough!”
—Annie Rains, USA Today bestselling author
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As the leader of his clan, Carl Carman is surrounded by enemies. He’s learned the hard way that keeping a firm leash on his inner beast is the key to survival, though his feelings for baker Becca Weitz test his legendary control. When danger stalks too close, Carl realizes he must unleash the raging, primal force within to protect everything he holds dear. But can Becca trust his grizzly side with her life—and her heart?
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