Tempted by Fate Read Free Page B

whispered, shaking her head.
    More officers flooded the scene shortly after, including several plainclothes policemen. She watched as they cordoned off the scene with yellow police tape and began methodically recording their findings. It was a process she’d seen before, in different countries all over the world. Slight variations, some forces more inept than others, but pretty much the same procedures. Being in her line of work, it behooved her to be familiar with the way the police operated.
    Her mark burned, sharp and insistent. Instinct made her turn her head to the left, just as another man crested the hill.
    Her breath caught in her chest, and she had to force it out with a harsh exhale.
    He walked to the scene with an air of authority. The officer in charge. Which meant he was Homicide, detective level. He wore a suit, no overcoat despite the bitter San Francisco wind that whipped through the city all year round. Even though it was past midnight, his clothing was immaculate. So was his dark hair, cut short and neat.
    Willow couldn’t see details, which frustrated her, but something about him was familiar, and for a moment, she was tempted to come out from hiding and walk to him.
    “Ridiculous,” she said under her breath. Standing at the edge of the scene, he took a small notepad and pen out of his inner suit pocket. He motioned to the first officers to arrive on the scene and asked them questions.
    Too low to hear, damn it. She frowned, holding a branch to help calm herself. She knew what he’d be asking. When did they get the call? Had they disturbed the scene? Any witnesses found?
    He finished talking to the two patrolmen and ducked under the police tape to inspect the bodies. Suddenly he knelt, laying a palm on the ground.
    Willow swallowed a curse. Her boot print on the dirt.
    He stood up and scanned the area. Sharp gaze—he probably didn’t miss much.
    And then he focused on the bush where she hid.
    He couldn’t see her. She knew he couldn’t see her. But somehow she felt his gaze penetrating deeply—all the way to the space inside her that had been closed off for the past twenty years.
    She didn’t like it. Not one bit.
    When he turned around and waved one of his minions over, Willow exhaled.
    “Forget the cop,” she muttered. “Time to move.”
    She had to examine what she’d taken and hope it’d lead her to something of value. Not that she was going to hold her breath.
    Pulling her mother’s wooden flute from her pants pocket, she backed out of the bush, silently so as not to attract any attention. As an extra measure of caution, she had the trees across the way rustle, drawing attention away from her.
    She waited until she was a little distance away before she put the flute to her lips and blew a delicate, mournful tune in honor of the dead.
    It was the night from hell, and only getting worse.
    Homicide Inspector Rick Ramirez glared at the crime scene. Not much to go on so far. East side of Buena Vista Park, two victims, male. No witnesses. No signs of struggle. No ID on the victims.
    Why should it be easy?
    At least there was a footprint. A woman’s shoe, based on the heel.
    He crouched down to get a closer look. Women didn’t murder just for the hell of it. Homicides with female offenders were typically in the context of domestic abuse, or as an act of desperation. Two men, one shot execution style and the other with a bashed-in skull? A woman wouldn’t have been his guess.
    Of course, all sorts of unusual things had been happening in the city the past year. Things he’d been hard pressed to explain. This barely rated on that scale.
    A bush fifteen feet away rustled, seemingly without cause. Ramirez looked up, frowning. Something wasn’t right. Still, to cover the bases, he signaled a couple of his men to investigate.
    Odd. He scanned the area, feeling like he was being led astray somehow.
    Out of the corner of his eye, he caught a glimpse of a figure. Tall, but obviously a woman.