Deadly Little Lies Read Online Free PDF

of the camera. “Yeah, that’s right,” he muttered in answer to some inane question she asked. He hurried up the steps, easing along the wall so the secondary video wouldn’t catch the movement.
    When he knocked, the door creaked open, offering just a slice of light in the shadowed area under the receiving dock’s canopy.
    â€œHey, handsome,” Inez gushed, swinging the door wide. He saw her frown at his shoes, so he swept her into his arms, tugging the heavy door shut behind him, making sure only the back of his head and jacket were visible to the inner door camera.
    â€œHey, baby,” he crooned, kissing her and grabbing her ass. He boosted her up into his arms and she wrapped her legs around his waist. With her clinging to him, he moved quickly down the hall. His body reacted to her sensuality and the kisses she pressed to his neck. It was a pity he didn’t have time for sex. She was young, enthusiastic, and flexible. At least screwing her had been a bonus rather than a chore, although he’d have done it, no matter what.
    â€œHey,” she giggled. “What took you so long? They’ve been gone awhile.”
    â€œI know. Trouble parking,” he lied, swinging open the door to Carrie McCray’s office with his hip. It was good to be in the cramped space, where no cameras peered. He set her on the desk, had her blouse open in a moment, her bra unhooked. She laughed, pulling his head to her for a kiss.
    â€œYou’re in a hurry,” she moaned throatily, then frowned again, noting the gloves on his hands.
    It really was too bad. She noticed the little things, lots of little things. It was a shame she was so smart.
    He distracted her by flipping up her skirt, fondling her so that she closed her eyes and let her head fall back. He’d counted on that. It was a studied move on her part, designed to make a man feel like he was doing a good job. Every time he touched her below her waist, she did that very move with the head toss and the closed eyes. He grinned, hating that he really didn’t have time for a quick fuck.
    Too bad.
    He eased the long, thin, sharpened palette knife out of his pocket with one hand, keeping her busy with the other.
    She was so focused she didn’t flinch as he slipped the knife easily between her ribs, hitting the heart in one stroke. One twist opened the wound more, ensuring the incision was lethal. It was a poetic move, he thought, to kill her with an artist’s implement.
    Her eyes flew open and her head jerked forward, once. To his delight, he saw the betrayal, the shock in her eyes as they dimmed in death.
    How very satisfying. Even a bit ... arousing.
    He let her body fall backward and to the side. The blood was oozing around the handle of the blade now and he wanted to be sure he wasn’t marked by it. He switched on the desk light, looking at the gloves under the bright white light. Good, no blood, even on the gloves.
    â€œThe nice thing about hitting the heart the first time,” he told the dead girl, “is that if you do it right, and position the body correctly, the blood all pumps into the body cavity.” He remembered the first time he heard the words, delivered in a highly accented voice from his mercenary captain. “You still die,” he observed, speaking to the dead as he hooked the desk chair with his foot to pull it over, prop her feet on it so her body wouldn’t fall onto the floor. “However, you don’t get blood all over your killer. Bad for you, good for me.”
    With a quick twist, he gathered her blouse in one hand and used it to turn her body to its side, leaving the knife in the wound like a cork. All the blood would now pool inside the body until the cops turned her onto her back.
    â€œLovely. Just lovely,” he said, patting her hip with both affection and care. He’d had a good time with her, but he didn’t want to dislodge the weapon or mar his handiwork.