Sins of the Angels Read Online Free PDF Page B

“Don’t let me stop you.”
    Alex poured her coffee, stirred it, and dropped the spoon into the sink. Seeing that Delaney had returned to her magazine, she risked another peek at Jacob Trent, but he was hidden from view. Just as well. She could probably use a few seconds to deal with certain unruly hormones before she went out there to introduce herself.
    She picked up the mug, straightened her spine, and headed for the door, barely registering Delaney’s laconic farewell.
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    CHRISTINE WATCHED ALEX Jarvis step into the Homicide Squad room, narrowly missing a file-encumbered clerk on her way toward the group clustered around Staff Inspector Roberts.
    There but for the grace of God, she thought, taking in the appearance of every sleep-deprived detective in the place and remembering how she’d very nearly accepted a transfer to this section instead of Fraud. She shuddered. Jarvis was right. She’d never have survived. Not that the homicide detective had ever said so outright, but Christine knew the other woman’s opinion of her. She’d long ago given up being insulted—about the same time she realized that Jarvis really was the superior cop. By far.
    Not that she herself was a bad one; she just wasn’t driven the way Jarvis was, and she certainly didn’t want or need the kind of pressure that came with working Homicide. She took a celery stick from her plate and nibbled at it. No, Fraud offered ample challenge, and it let her go home to sleep on a regular basis, too.
    That didn’t mean her job didn’t have its own special moments, however. Like this morning’s call. Talk about a bullshit complaint from an overprotective parent. Christine had known it the moment she’d answered the phone, and still couldn’t believe she’d let that jerk pressure her into opening a file. The guy’s kid was twenty-one, for God’s sake, plenty old enough to decide for himself if he wanted to give away his entire inheritance to some mission or other. Without proof of coercion of some sort, the police could do nothing about it.
    Unless Daddy played golf with the mayor and opening a file wasn’t so much a courtesy as it was a career move. As in wanting to keep her career.
    Christine grimaced and rose from her chair. CYA, she reminded herself: cover your ass. If she went through the motions, she could at least say she’d done her job. She carried her dishes to the counter and dumped the remainder of her lunch into the trash. So she’d meet Daddy first, then get the son’s side of the story, and then, just to be on the safe side, she’d even interview the accused “money-grubbing missionary.”
    Leaving plate and cup sitting beneath the sign that ordered her to wash her own dishes, she stepped out into Homicide, where she was grateful all over again not to be a part of the tension driving her colleagues.
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    HALFWAY ACROSS THE office to join the group clustered around Roberts’s door, Alex glimpsed a pin-striped shoulder and her heart skipped another irritating few beats. She paused beside a desk and set down her coffee, and then wiped damp palms, one at a time, against her pants.
    He’s just another cop, she told herself. A very hot other cop, maybe, but a cop all the same.
    And if Delaney was right about him being her new partner, she’d do well to remember past lessons. She’d done the office romance thing once, and the repercussions had reverberated through her life for nearly a year after the fact. It wasn’t a scenario she was anxious to repeat.
    Alex picked up her coffee again, composed her features into what she hoped was professional welcome rather than drooling idolatry, and approached the others. Weaving her way to Roberts’s side, she cleared her throat.
    â€œJacob Trent?” She smiled. “Alex Jarvis. I understand you’re my new partner.”
    Trent turned his head. Cold eyes ran over her and then