Jaid Black Read Online Free PDF Page A

I promise. But you have to understand that I can’t let something like this get out.”
    Nikki smiled supportively, but on the inside she was still worried. “Sure,” she whispered. “I understand.”
    Kim smiled back. “I wish you did understand.” She glanced away, her look thoughtful. “But you can’t possibly know what it feels like to be a freak,” she murmured.
    Not true, Nikki thought, biting down onto her lip. It might not be exactly the same thing, but her intense D/s longings made her different, unusual. She didn’t really want to know just how unusual. And, like Kim, she didn’t want to chance her career being ruined if word got out.
    Those were the reasons why she hadn’t confided her yearnings to anyone. Embarrassment was why she hadn’t even confided them to her best friend.
    “You’re not a freak,” Nikki softly reiterated. “You’re just gifted.”

    “Boy oh boy, is this hombre gifted or what?”
    Detective Thomas Cavanah snorted at Dr. Felix Goldstein’s sarcastic assessment of Lucifer’s work. He’d known the fifty-year-old coroner for over five years and highly respected him. “Or what,” Thomas murmured.
    “His cuts are clean, precise. His hands are steady.”
    “How pro do they look? Are we talking Boy Scout level, a surgeon, what?”
    “Maybe a surgeon, but not one that graduated at the top of his class. Somewhere in between is my best guestimate,” Felix said thoughtfully. He threw a white sheet over the remains of Linda Hughes, then motioned for Thomas to follow him into an adjoining conference room.
    “Well, that only leaves a million or so occupations to plug into the databases,” Thomas said dryly. “Thanks for clearing that up, Doc.”
    Felix smiled. “I wish it were that easy.” He sighed as he took a seat behind the desk. “Because of how my field is portrayed in the media, people think my job is simple.” He held up a hand. “The coroner examines the dead, runs a few tests, and the perp is nabbed. If only it really were that straightforward.”
    One corner of Thomas’s mouth hitched up in a gesture of camaraderie. He knew exactly how Dr. Goldstein felt. In the movies, a cop’s job was more science than art. In reality, the opposite was true. There was a lot of science involved, these days more so than ever before, but it still came down to intuition, gut instinct, problem-solving skills, and tenacity. In a word, art.
    “So,” Thomas said as he took the seat across from the coroner. He tugged at his suit, feeling big and uncomfortable in it. At six-foot-three and carrying around two-hundred-forty pounds of solid muscle, he had never warmed up to the professional-suit attire of a detective. He belonged in a football jersey and sweats. “You got anything new?” he inquired, his gravelly voice sounding sharp for a man who hadn’t slept in two days.
    “Actually, yes,” Felix said, surprising him.
    Thomas’s eyes slightly widened. He ran a callused hand across his five o’clock shadow. “Well hell, Doc, why didn’t you say so?”
    “Very rarely do I get to make such a dramatic announcement. Allow me to savor it, eh?”
    Thomas smiled. “What do you got for me?”
    Felix sighed. “Not as much as I’d like, but at least it’s something.”
    The detective sat up straighter in his chair. “Go on,” he prodded.
    “We’ve got a fiber.”
    Yes. “It doesn’t belong to Ms. Hughes? You’re certain?”
    “Positive.”
    Thomas’s eyes narrowed. “What kind of fiber?”
    Felix frowned. “Now there’s the shit part.”
    “The shit part?” He grunted. “What are you saying, Doc?”
    “I’m saying that the fiber was too threadbare to positively ID.” The coroner sighed. “When I burned it down to analyze, there just wasn’t enough there, buddy.”
    Thomas closed his eyes, momentary defeat gnawing at him.
    “But . . .”
    “But?” His eyes flew open. “There’s a ‘but’?”
    Felix smiled. “A small one, but yes, there is a ‘but.’