Rev (Jack 'Em Up #4) Read Free Page A

her belly in affectionate circles.
    “So is his Daddy.” Trace grinned, his eyes only for his wife.
    “Have you guys picked out names yet?” Delilah asked, wiping crumbs from Molly’s face.
    Tori shrugged, her eyes pinging to Trace. “If it’s a girl, we’re thinking Bailey. If it’s a boy, Brady.”
    “You’re seriously not going to find out what it is?” Rachel looked incredulous.
    “Nope.” Tori shook her head vehemently and grabbed another chip. “It doesn’t matter.”
    “Sure it does,” Rachel continued. “You need to prepare and shop and decorate . . .”
    I spoke in their defense before I realized the words were out of my mouth. “It doesn’t matter as long as the baby is healthy.”
    Everyone stopped and stared.
    I swallowed and looked down.
    Still nobody moved, obviously as shocked as I was that I’d spoken. I glanced up, my gaze darting around to my friends in turn. “What? It’s no big deal. Leave them alone.” I stood and dumped my trash. “A baby is a blessing no matter what. Just let them be happy.” I stalked away, not sure why I’d jumped their asses like that. I’d just snapped.
    If I couldn’t have any joy in my life, I wanted those I loved to have it in spades. My time in Afghanistan should’ve at least earned that.

Jewel
    I did it. Bright and early the next day, I registered for my first online forensic art class to start in the fall. Just the basics, but it was a start and built on what I already knew. It was a step in the right direction, though my feelings of pleasure were short-lived as I sat across from Theresa, the latest victim of the Baybridge rapist.
    She stared blankly at the precinct’s scratched and scarred wooden table, her blue eyes heavy with detachment. I knew that look well, I saw it in the mirror often during my time with Nolan.
    I placed my pencil down and reached out to cup her hand. “Theresa?”
    Her gaze flew up as if I’d startled her.
    I offered her a gentle smile, one that hopefully conveyed I had some idea what she was going through. Maybe not exactly, but enough. “Take your time.”
    She sniffled and attempted a smile in return. I handed her a tissue so she could dab the tears that had begun to fall. “I’m sorry.”
    “Don’t be sorry.” My words were firm. She needed to hear this. “Don’t ever say you’re sorry. You did nothing wrong. I don’t want this to be any harder on you than it has to be. Do you need a break? Want to try again tomorrow?”
    Trembling hands tucked her stringy blond hair behind her ear. “No. I want to get this over with.” Her eyes flashed to mine. “But if it’s the same man, why do we need to do this? Haven’t you gotten enough drawings?”
    I nodded. “We do. It’s important that we get each victim’s perspective, to make sure we don’t miss anything important.” I picked up my pencil and focused on the face taking shape on my paper. “So, his face is round, right?”
    She nodded.
    “What about his eyes? Tell me about those.”
    It was the same as I’d heard the half dozen times before. Evil eyes. Brown nearly black. But this time, something new. “They’re, I don’t know, kinda deep-set, with heavy eyebrows.”
    I erased and made the eyes deeper. “Like this?”
    She nodded. “He had a beard, too.”
    I glanced up, surprised. Nobody else reported facial hair. “Can you describe it?”
    “Uh . . .” She mimicked touching her face. “A regular beard. Not long, not short. Full, I guess.”
    “Red?” It was known the rapist was red-headed.
    She squinted. “More like brown, I think.”
    My heart began to quiver as this person morphed into someone new. “Tattoos? Other markings?” I held my voice steady.
    “I can’t be sure. Maybe?”
    How did she miss the swastika on his neck? Was this truly a different perpetrator?
    “Okay. What about his nose?”
    She described the same wide nose the other victims had. I drew it and showed her.
    “No. It’s not that straight. It looked like