Serial Date: A Leine Basso Thriller Read Online Free PDF

taking more choice cuts from the body and leaving so much waste, but had been unable to remove it from the prop closet without being seen.
    Wonderful, Jensen thought. A cannibal with a social agenda .
    Leine Basso walked into the office. “You called?” she said to Bronkowski. Jensen tensed.
    Bronkowski pointed at the manifesto. “The killer sent a letter. He's a fucking cannibal…”
    “Mr. Bronkowski,” Jensen warned, his voice terse. He looked pointedly at Leine and Peter. “This isn't general knowledge and is key evidence, unique to this crime. You can't discuss this with anyone outside the investigation.”
    Putnam added, “If this is leaked to anyone, we'll hold you both responsible and file charges. Do you understand?”
    “You won't hear it from me, detectives.” Leine's gaze swept over Jensen.
    A surge of electricity headed straight down his belly and into his dick. She wore her dark brown hair loose and it fell just below her shoulders. Sexy.
    Definitely have to follow up on this one, Jensen thought.
    “No, no. Of course not. I don't need this getting out any more than you guys do.” Bronkowski waved at the air, dismissing their concerns.
    “Is there anything I can do?” Leine asked, looking first at Jensen and Putnam, then Bronkowski.
    “If you find out anything about an ex-con or contestant, no matter how inconsequential it may seem, my partner and I would appreciate it if you'd let us know.” Jensen picked up the letter and placed it into an evidence bag. “We pulled the personnel files from both seasons, but nothing beats a visual—it'd be great if you could keep an eye on everyone else on set and report any suspicious activity. The more bodies we have looking out, the better.”
    “Of course, detective. Anything else?”
    Everything about her said “business only.” What would it take to get those panties off? Jensen smiled his most disarming smile. Piece of cake, he thought. Turn on the ol' Santiago charm. Make her think she's part of the investigation, get close to her. A little wine, a little dinner… then, look out, Mamacita. Give her some red-hot salsa.
    “That's all for now, Ms. Basso. We've got your number.”
     
     
     

 
     
    Chapter 6
     
     
    “That's the last one, Edward.” Peter set the moving box on the dining room table and wiped his forehead with a tissue.
    Edward raced to the box, opened it and checked the contents. With a deep sigh, he visibly relaxed once he'd made sure nothing had broken. Peter felt a twinge of sadness. The new meds didn't seem to have much of an effect.
    “Edward, I need to ask you something important, okay? It has to do with the blackness.”
    Edward stiffened. He began to rock back and forth and shake his head. The humming began almost immediately. Peter put a hand on his arm. Edward quieted.
    “Don't worry, it's a simple question. You only have to answer yes or no, all right?”
    Edward nodded, though he still acted wary. Peter knew anything that had to do with what Edward referred to as the blackness could set him back months, and he didn't bring it up lightly.
    “Edward, I need to know if you've experienced it recently and whether you've told anyone.”
    Edward shook his head. “No, no, Peter, not recently. Not recently. The blackness isn't here anymore.” Peter took in Edward's agitated hand movements and the telltale facial tick, and his heart sank.
    “Edward, are you still taking those pills Doctor Shapiro prescribed?”
    Edward rocked his head up and down. “Yes. I take them every day, just like you said.” He opened a box next to him and proceeded to search the items inside.
    Peter sighed. He knew the move to a new place would screw everything up, probably send Edward off his meds, but he couldn't chance the police finding out about him. Peter had worked diligently to keep his younger brother under wraps ever since he'd found Edward at the age of sixteen, standing over their stepfather's dead body, holding a bloody baseball bat.