overstated things. Marcus had certainly seen his share of crime scenes over the years, but this one packed an unpleasant punch that was uniquely its own. Even Polinsky winced and glanced away for a second, muttering under his breath, before refocusing on the body.
Jeremy Decker stared straight ahead, expression frozen in a look of terror. He’d known he was going to die, probably felt it happening as all the blood that coated his front poured out of his body. He’d had his throat cut from behind, presumably by someone seated in the back seat. The back driver’s-side door was unlocked, most likely from the killer’s exit and possible entrance if he or she hadn’t been inside the car all along, but there weren’t any useful footprints that could be discerned outside the vehicle. They’d have to hope there was some useable trace evidence within the car, but from the looks of it, it hadn’t been cleaned in some time, making it unlikely anything would be found.
With one last look, Marcus turned to Polinsky. “Guess we should talk to the lawyer. You want to take her?”
“Nah, you go ahead. I might say something I regret.”
Knowing Polinsky, that was a safe bet. Nodding tightly, Marcus suppressed a sigh and turned around, eyes seeking out the woman, already anticipating what he’d find. No doubt she’d be uptight and humorless, a know-it-all with her nose in the air ready to tell him how to do his job and make it as difficult as possible. She’d probably be irritated at having been forced to wait instead of being spoken to immediately. He looked for someone who was frowning, someone who looked ready for a fight—
Someone who was drop-dead beautiful.
He stopped and almost did a double take as soon as he saw her. And there was no doubt this was her. The cold had limited the number of onlookers. There were relatively few women around, and all the rest were part of the crime scene team. That left a single female standing alone on the fringes.
Despite the cold, she wasn’t hunched over in her coat trying to keep warm. She stood straight, hands in her pockets, her eyes on the scene, as though she wasn’t affected by the weather at all, even as the wind pulled at the edges of her coat. A streetlamp behind her poured its glow directly over her, illuminating her as effectively as a spotlight. Which, from the looks of her, was exactly where this woman deserved to be.
Even from a distance, there was no mistaking the beauty of that face, her features perfectly formed, her lips lush and full, her skin a dark, warm brown. Her coat was belted at the waist and molded to her body, hinting temptingly at lush curves. Despite her obvious beauty, she didn’t look as cold and unapproachable as such women often did. Certainly not the angry, arrogant figure he’d been expecting. There was a warmth, a kindness, to her face, something approachable despite the worry on it that made her infinitely more appealing.
Their eyes met across the distance. Hers widened slightly with surprise, with shock, with something he recognized all too well as a charge suddenly jolted through his body. He stood as frozen as the world around him, but all he felt inside was raw heat.
Now that he thought of it, he’d heard talk that she was a looker, but mostly in a “what a waste” sense, her appearance hugely overshadowed by the talk of everything she’d done. What she did.
He would be better off remembering that. Not that he had any trouble doing so. After all, the only reason they were both here, the only reason he’d had the opportunity to experience that sudden, inexplicable charge that had passed between them, was because she’d gotten another criminal freed.
The only thing that mattered was finding out if her actions had played as much of a part in getting him killed.
REGINA HAD SEEN THE man she deduced was a homicide detective as soon as he arrived with another man who appeared to be his partner. He’d been far enough away, with his collar pulled up against the cold, that she hadn’t been able to get a good look at him. She’d watched from a distance as he and the other man had approached Jeremy’s car and examined the gruesome scene she could still see entirely too well in her head.
But it wasn’t until he suddenly turned and looked directly at her that she was able to see him clearly. And in that instant when their eyes met, every thought that had been racing through her head evaporated, along with every bit of moisture in her mouth.
The man was, quite simply, the best thing she’d seen in a long time, so much so he almost didn’t seem real. He was tall, with the kind of muscular frame that not even the bulky coat could hide. It seemed barely capable of containing his wide shoulders, the sleeves stretching and straining around his arms. Even if she hadn’t been able to see the rest of his body, his face would have been enough to tell her what it was like. His features were all hard planes and sharp leanness, and even his cheekbones seemed to have muscles. His hair was cut close to the scalp, making the features on that dark brown face stand out that much more strongly.
He started toward her, that massive frame moving with an easy grace. Her heart did a curious lurch in her chest, then kickstarted again in a faster pace as she watched his approach.
Then he came close enough that she could see the tightening of his expression, the wariness in his eyes. She immediately knew the cause of his reaction, and she choked back a sigh.
So he was one of those. A cop who viewed her as the enemy.
She wasn’t surprised, of course. It went with the territory. She was comfortable with her career. She’d learned a long time ago that the police weren’t always right and that not all police officers were good people. But there was still something uniquely disappointing about having as fine a male specimen as the man before her looking at her like that.
She swallowed the disappointment that rose in her throat. Hadn’t she just been thinking how difficult it was to find a good man? She should know better than to let herself be so affected by a physical reaction, a reaction that was no doubt caused just as much by the stress of everything that had happened in the past few hours as the man himself. Finding Jeremy. Talking to the first officers on the scene. The endless waiting. It was no wonder her emotions were off-kilter. She sucked in a breath, trying to regain her senses.
Then he was in front of her, bigger and more overwhelming than before, and she suddenly had to try to recover from his appearance all over again. “Ms. Garrett?”
Damn. His voice was as sexy as the rest of him, a low rumble she felt quake through her. She nearly shuddered. “Yes,” she said, her tone admirably smooth.
“Detective Marcus Waters,” he said, all business. “I was told you found the body.”
The subject matter thankfully brought her back down to earth. “That’s right.”
“And the victim was a client of yours?”
“Yes. He called earlier this evening and asked to see me.”
“About what?”
“He didn’t say. I tried to get him to tell me, but he would only say it was very important. I was expecting him at six. I called him a few times when he didn’t show, and finally gave up around eight. I was driving by when I saw him.”
“And he was already dead?”
“Yes.”
“You represented him on a burglary charge, is that correct?”
“That’s right.”
“Did he do it?”
For
