Crossing the Line Read Online Free PDF Page A

his parted lips before removing his hand from her pants. Megan knew she needed to go, but she didn’t want to leave him with his feet hanging off the side of the bed. 
    It took some time, but eventually she was able to get his feet up onto the mattress and him into a position where she was confident he wouldn’t fall off in the middle of the night. His head was near the foot of the bed, and his feet at the head, but it worked nonetheless. 
    Satisfied she’d done the best she could, Megan debated whether or not to sleep on the couch in his room or go back to her own. It was a hard decision, but she reasoned that he probably wouldn’t want to be babied come morning, so reluctantly she went back to her room. The only concession was that she left the adjoining door open. 
    Curling up in her bed, Megan looked toward the open door. What would have happened if Paul hadn’t fallen asleep? Unfortunately, she might never know.
      
    It sounded like someone was scraping their nails on a chalkboard, and what Paul wanted more than anything was for them to stop. His head was pounding, and the noise wasn’t helping. He cracked open one eye and quickly closed it again, as the sun shining through the window only made things worse. How much did he have to drink last night? He couldn’t remember. From how he was feeling, though, it was a lot. 
    As gently as he could, he sat up. The pounding in his head increased slightly. He took a few deep breaths until he was sure his head wasn’t going to fall off, and then made his way into the bathroom to relieve his bladder.
    After taking care of business, he took a long look in the mirror. His eyes were bloodshot and he had dark circles beneath them. He looked as if he’d been to hell and back, and he felt that way, too. 
    Making his way back out into the room, he shielded his eyes as best he could as he walked across the room to close the heavy curtains. Once they were pulled tight, blocking the light from outside, the pounding in his head decreased a little more. Not willing to take the chance, however, Paul went to his bag and dug out some painkillers. 
    Downing them easily, he glanced at the clock. It was already after nine, which meant Chloe and his mom would be calling soon. He needed to clean himself up. Paul didn’t want his daughter to see him like this. 
    Thoughts of his mom calling brought his mind back to what woke him in the first place. He went to retrieve his phone from on top of the nightstand near the bed, and sure enough, he had one missed call. It was from his partner, Janey Davis.
    Dialing into his voice mail, he listened to her message. There had been another homicide last night. The third one in six months, all with the same MO: young woman, in her late twenties/early thirties, found in her home with her throat and wrists slashed. 
    With the first one, they’d thought it was a possible suicide, but the cuts were too clean and the angles wrong. Add to that the difficulty of slashing both one’s throat and wrists. When the second victim turned up with identical cuts along her throat and wrists, it was obvious they had a killer on their hands. With victim number three, the higher-ups were going to start wanting answers.
    Knowing he needed a shower before he called Janey back, Paul tossed his phone down on the bed, and went to grab some clothes. That’s when he noticed the door between his and Megan’s room was open. He strolled over to the door and peeked in. Megan was still asleep, curled up in her bed with the blankets tucked under her chin, and her hair in complete disarray. 
    A flash of his hand cupping the back of her head, her green eyes fully dilated staring back at him, filled his vision for a split second, and then it was gone. He shook his head, not understanding where the image came from. Nonetheless, it was enough to cause a reaction below his waist. 
    Knowing he needed some distance, Paul scurried out of the doorway and back into his room, quietly,