Particles of Murder (A Shadow of Death Romantic Suspense Series Book 1) Read Free Page B

decade now. I love science fiction and…I was overweight until four years ago.”
    “I want to say that your last one was a lie, but I don’t think you could have invented that out of thin air.”
    “I am a writer,” he teases.
    “No.” I shake my head. “That’s not it. You don’t like science fiction.”
    He laughs. I could spend a lifetime listening to that laugh, feeling it send warmth throughout my body. I lean in. Our lips touch and it causes a magnetism between us and my body is pulled toward him through an electrical charge. His hands brush against my skin as he pulls off my shirt and I can feel the ridges of his spine as my fingers brush over his back. He moves on top of me.
    In a career path that’s so full of death and violence, it’s good to find that the body doesn’t just endure pain. It also seeks pleasure.

    * * *
    W hen I wake up , my neck has a cramp in it. I’m leaning against my bed, my red plush blanket pulled half-heartedly over my lap. John is beside me, his arm draped over my thighs.
    I definitely need to stop drinking.
    It was a bad decision to sleep with someone involved in a current case, but he’s not a suspect—I’m certain his alibi was solid—and it sounds like the case is going to be closed soon, anyway.
    I shove his shoulder. He jerks awake.
    “You should get going,” I say.
    He rubs his face. “You’re not a morning person, are you?”
    “I just need to get to work,” I say. “And I’m sure you need to get to work too.”
    He sits up, pulling the blanket toward him and nearly leaving me exposed. I grab the blanket, pulling it up around me as I stand up. His physique is just as impressive as I thought it was when I was drunk. I’d thought there was a possibility that the alcohol made him look better because I can’t see any scenario where an English professor spends his time in a gym.
    “I’m going to shower. You should be gone by the time I get out.”
    “Wow,” he says. “I liked you a lot better when you had a drink in your hand.”
    “And I liked you better when you weren’t talking.”
    He presses his lips together, preventing himself from saying whatever he wants to say. Instead, his eyes wander to my arm and he gestures toward my bracelet. “Why are you wearing a child’s bracelet?”
    I force a smile. “I’ve already told you too much about me. Be gone by the time I’m done showering.”
    I turn around and shuffle my way to the bathroom. I don’t mean to be harsh, but I really shouldn’t have slept with him, and after my last boyfriend (if I could even call him that), I have zero interest in forming a relationship with anyone. I don’t even want to risk it.
    I wait until I hear the creak of the floor as John walks into the hallway. I turn on the shower and close my eyes as the room fills with steam.
    Pleasure is meant to be fleeting or it would be meaningless. At least, that’s how it has always seemed to me.

    * * *
    E d Bunt , the other forensic scientist who lacks hair but still maintains a baby face, is lifting a fingerprint off a camera’s on/off button. I watch him as he brushes white powder in the direction of the fingerprint. The fingerprint’s ridges begin to appear.
    “You smell like waffles,” he remarks as he presses a piece of tape against the powder. When he removes it, the fingerprint is almost perfectly etched into the tape. “When do you ever eat breakfast?”
    “I woke up earlier than usual,” I say.
    He presses the tape against a black fingerprint card. “You never wake up early.”
    “How would you know?”
    “Because you’re always rushing in here late, telling me how you missed your alarm,” he says. “Don’t worry. I won’t pry into your personal life, though I’ll certainly be creating my own theories. I’m going to guess it was either a man or a secret service assignment.”
    “Both are equally possible,” I say. As I grab a pair of gloves, he shakes his head.
    “You may be on time today, but