Frozen Heat (2012) Read Online Free PDF Page A

didn’t think I came all the way up here to bring you coffee, did you?”
    Heat began with details. The major headline, she didn’t need to put into words. Not with this group. It rang loud and clear to everyone in that room who knew the lead detective and her history. If that didn’t say it, the parallel boards and her ultra-focused demeanor did. This was The Big Case. The case of Nikki Heat’s lifetime.
    Attention was sharp. Nobody interrupted, nobody joked. Nobody wanted to blow this for her. They all shared one thought: Bring this one home for Detective Heat.
    Quickly recapping the discovery of the suitcase by the bomb squad, she used the Jane Doe photos as reference for her grand tour of the victim, explaining her frozen state, lack of ID or personal effects, and apparent—but unconfirmed—death by single stab wound to the back, expertly delivered. Next she indicated the array of truck pictures. “The driver is cooperating fully, and, along with his employer, we are establishing the timeline of deliveries to see when the suitcase got put in there. We can assume the luggage was deposited along his delivery route, but I want no assumptions. None. That brings us to my first assignment. Detective Hinesburg.”
    Nikki caught Hinesburg off guard as she joined the meeting late from the captain’s office. “What’s up?” she asked from a half-sit.
    “I want you to run a check for priors on the truck driver and anyone at the loading dock who had access to that vehicle before it rolled out this morning. That means anyone who cleaned it, loaded it, inspected it, or who could have slipped the suitcase in there before it left the facility.” Hinesburg found a seat and nodded. “Sharon, do you want to write any of this down?”
    “No, I got it.” And then, as she processed, Hinesburg added, “If the driver called in the 911, we probably don’t like him as the perp, do we? Isn’t this kind of busywork?”
    If thought bubbles were visible in life, the one over Heat’s head would have said, You bet. Nikki had learned the hard way that the best way to contain the damage Sharon Hinesburg caused on a case was to give her assignments where her laziness and sloppy detail work would do the least harm. “Guess we’ll only know after you get busy, Detective.” She scanned the room. “Detective Feller.”
    “Yo.” He had been leaning forward, intent, with his elbows on the thighs of his jeans. Hearing his name, he sat tall and poised his pen.
    “You’ll work the delivery route. That means not only checking out the workers at the delis and bodegas he hit, but did he stop for gas? Did he leave the truck to use a restroom? Does he have an affair going on the side that made him park for a quickie? Is he skimming food off the books and dropping calamari at his uncle’s with the loading door unlocked? You get the idea.”
    “On it.”
    “Interface with Raley. As our King of All Surveillance Media he’s going to find all the security cams working the delivery route. And Rales?” The detective raised his chin to her, signaling complete attention. “Of course we’re hoping to score footage of the suitcase and the person or persons who put it on the truck, but also scrub the video for eyewits. Pedestrians, news vendors—you know what I want.”
    “Anybody who saw the truck and anything that was happening around it, everywhere it went,” answered Detective Raley, making it sound daunting and doable at the same time.
    “Detective Ochoa, you run the fingerprints as soon as we get a set. Also, contact the Real Time Crime Center. See what their database spits out as far as disturbance calls, women screaming, even if they’re classed as domestic disputes.”
    “Time frame?” asked Ochoa.
    “We can’t fix our time of death until OCME can do some extra lab work after she thaws, so let’s tentatively set the kill zone in the past forty-eight and widen later, if we have to.”
    As she noted that on the board, Feller asked,