Manhattan Flame (A Bridge & Tunnel Romance Book 2) Read Free

and snuck a step back. “If I have to.”
    “Is that right?”
    “I doubt anyone will admit it, but if a cop comes sniffing around, the culprit might think twice next time.”
    “There is no culprit, Wright,” he said, disappointed. “Read the vic’s name.” He snapped the sheet in Kevin’s face. “Willy Blackwell’s out of his damn mind. He’s in here every other week claiming one of his neighbors has taken this or that worthless item. He’s what we call a time waster. If I send you over there for any reason it would be to arrest him for wasting police resources.”
    Or maybe the kids in Willy’s building liked messing with him because he was old and grumpy and an easy target, he thought without uttering one word.
    Instead, he said, “Understood,” and hoped the man would lumber back into the bullpen and chew someone else out for a change.
    Reilly stared him down for a solid moment just to stir a fresh wave of anxiety through Kevin, or so he thought. It wasn’t until the brash sergeant finally did stalk off that Kevin let out a rocky breath, turned towards his post, and hoped like hell his tour would fly by.
    As if in answer to his prayer, the glass entrance door of the precinct glided open and a young African-American woman stepped cautiously inside, her hair a wild design of black curls, her loose tee hugging the curves of her chest tightly where her leather jacket allowed a sense of her shape. Her thighs were thick, her eyes alert—and that was just the quick sense he got from her. As she approached the counter after glancing nervously around the empty lobby, Kevin afforded himself the vacation of studying her a bit more closely. 
    Physically, she looked soft, yet her expression was hardened as though her dewy complexion, large angled eyes, and round mouth were cloaked in a tough attitude—gentle features stiff with the guardedness that comes from too many years in too rough a neighborhood.
    His chest grew tighter the longer they looked at one another and it wasn’t until she set an abnormally large camera on the counter that he realized she even had such a thing with her.
    “How can I help you?” He asked, a bit thrown by how concerned his voice sounded.
    “I think I saw something,” she said in a hollow tone that seemed lost and out of sorts.
    “Theft?”
    “No,” she cut in then her lower lip began quivering and she muttered, Damn under her breath, stepping back and giving her hands a good shake before looking at them.
    “Take your time.”
    She let out a carefully measure breath, glancing discretely at her hands as if willing them to stop trembling. When she stepped up to the counter again, she pressed her palms flat onto it and Kevin noted their demure shape—long fingers adorned with several rings.
    She gave an honest attempt at starting slowly and clearly from the beginning. “I was over at Riverside Park, damn,” she swore again under her breath. Plowing her long fingers through her hair, she corrected herself, explaining, “I was down at the piers, but I started at the park so I don’t know which pier I was at.”
    “The first one? Twelve,” he supplied. “I know the area.”
    Again, she exhaled, her eyes scanning the counter as though it would help her gain clarity.
    “Hey,” he said softly, angling to catch eye contact. When he had it, he assured her, “Just tell me what you saw and we’ll go from there.”
    “Right,” she breathed. “I think I saw these two business-looking guys kill some Russian dude and throw him in the river.”
    Now that was a statement.
    Kevin realized he was staring so he whipped around, pulled a homicide report form from the shelving unit and found a pen, and set both on the counter.
    “Bear with me, I need to collect all of your information.”
    “Anonymous,” she blurted out then cooled herself. “I’d rather make an anonymous report.”
    Kevin leaned forward but not so much as to crowd her, and spoke firmly and deliberately. “This is