SEE HER DIE Read Free

pretty good look at her when she first entered the church. He’d been standing in the shadows near the massive double doors. She and her friend, one Gloria Weston, had hurried to find a seat as if they feared they might miss the opening act of the hottest new Broadway play.
    Elizabeth Young wore glasses, the small, gold-wire-rimmed kind. Oddly enough, there was something appealing about the prim look the eyewear gave her or maybe it was the braid restraining her long hair. He cocked an eyebrow at the direction his meandering thoughts had taken. He’d definitely gone too many hours without sleep. Anytime he looked at a possible suspect and found her appealing in some way, he needed to recharge his batteries. Years of training and field experience weren’t supposed to just fly out the window. Where was his focus? Down the toilet, obviously, along with his patience for bumbling homicide detectives. He gritted his teeth when he considered how badly they’d screwed up on this one.
    Next to him, Luke Duncan edged a bit closer and spoke in a low voice, “She doesn’t really look like the type who could bury a knife in a man’s chest.”
    Mac glanced at his brand-new partner, a kid fresh from the academy. Luke had a lot to learn that only experience would teach him. “They usually don’t,” Mac assured him.
    What the hell did he think? That a killer walked around with an identifying mark stamped on his or her forehead?
    Duncan shrugged, too cocky to be embarrassed. “I mean, she just doesn’t look like the type who screws around with some guy, then sticks him.”
    Still waters ran deep more often than not, Mac considered, but said, “Harrison’s murder was an emotional kill, an act of passion. You saw the video. Miss Young is certainly capable of the necessary emotion.”
    “Man, is she,” Duncan muttered wistfully.
    Mac clenched his jaw as the images he’d watched on that video quickly played in the private theater of his mind. Oh, yeah, Elizabeth Young was definitely passionate. His pulse quickened as his mind focused on one particularly vivid image of her nude body. Streaks of gold highlighted her lush brown mane as it glided over her skin with her rhythmic movements atop her lover. Small, firm breasts jutting forward, begging to be tasted. She might not have that high-class walk down pat, but she damn sure had the art of sex down to a science. His body reacted to the memory.
    He looked away, silently cursing himself. Elizabeth Young wasn’t just a suspect, she was the prime suspect in this high-profile murder investigation. He didn’t need a case of lust where she was concerned. The facts were all he needed. And he had several of those.
    Ned Harrison had scheduled a dinner appointment with Elizabeth Young at seven on Friday night. By nine he was dead. The homicide detectives had found the very private, definitely X-rated video of Harrison and Young hidden in his bedroom. There was no way to determine when it had been made. Other videos had been found as well. More than two dozen. Ned had been a busy man. Half or so of the videos featured extended sex sessions with former patients. The others involved current patients. All the videos except Elizabeth’s had been safely tucked away in his walk-in closet, right behind his wall of Armani and Prada suits. Each had been labeled with a name and date—all except Elizabeth’s.
    Mac didn’t know yet what made hers different but he would find out. That she could count on. It was an absolute miracle the NYPD detectives hadn’t given away that ace in the hole. At least they’d had sense enough to keep the videos to themselves when conducting their hasty interviews and spilling their guts to the media.
    As if that fiasco wasn’t enough, the so-called rush on the forensics report that should have been ready yesterday was stuck in a political bottleneck. He’d had to fight like hell to get jurisdiction over this case. It was Wednesday and he hadn’t been allowed to