Still Life: The Randi Lassiter Series, Book 1 Read Online Free PDF Page B

attention. His dark hair was overdue for a trim and downright insubordinate in her opinion. Her eyes came to rest on his and she knew a well of trouble when she saw one.
    She sighed. “It’s true, that makes up the bulk of my investigative business. But we do more than just take lewd pictures.” She leaned on the table and laced her fingers beneath her chin. “We secure proof of infidelity that expedites the painful process of divorce, Detective, and that is a godsend to someone suffering through an unhealthy marriage and longing to escape.”
    “Uh-huh.” His flippant tone was bad enough, but his next words opened a deep wound. “Sounds like you’ve had personal experience with that sort of thing.”
    The verbal slap rocked her back in her seat. She focused on the wood grain of the table. No way was she going to discuss the intimate details of her life with this guy.
    “And tonight you just happened to forget your flashlights.” It wasn’t a question. He looked across the room at CJ’s purple hair and shook his head. “A couple of professionals. Right.”
    Randi refused to be baited. She forced out a sweet smile. “Do you have any questions regarding the woman who was murdered, Detective? Because if my personal life is going to be the sole focus of your questions, perhaps we can cover it another time. It has been a long night and I’d like to go home.” She narrowed her eyes, daring him to continue his moronic interrogation.
    “You’re right, Ms. Lassiter, I’m sure I can get your life’s story from a dozen of Mt. Ouisco’s citizens.” He cut her off before she could protest. “Your lawyer has assured me that you are not involved in the death of our victim and assuming I believe her…” He paused, waiting for her to react, but she didn’t give him the satisfaction. “…then do you happen to know who the victim was?”
    “The sad truth is I don’t. I grew up here and I do know a lot of people, but it was dark when I…fell on her.” She slipped her fingers over her mouth as nonchalantly as she could when bile rose to the back of her throat. The smell of the garbage, the sound of the rats, the blood on her hands, it was all coming back.
    “Did you see anyone in the area as you conducted your little candid adventure?”
    Again his words smacked of sarcasm, but she took the time to think about it. She shook her head. “The only other people we saw were a family unpacking their minivan and heading to their room. Gray minivan parked at the end of the motel, near the alley.”
    He took down a note then stared at her again with his piercing eyes. “So tell me, Ms. Lassiter, as a professional investigator, how much of an impact do you think crawling around on top of the body made to my crime scene?” The accusation was rhetorical.
    Randi hated that he was lecturing her. But when the facts were listed altogether, he was right. But why was he hammering away at her? Had he no pity for the woman she’d landed on? She failed to understand how he could view such a gruesome murder, know she had to be experiencing some level of shock, and just not give a shit.
    Randi recognized the anger in him—that much was obvious. She also noted the dark circles under his eyes, the firm line of his mouth, and weariness in his speech. She saw sadness and regret too. She suddenly felt sorry for him without knowing why.
    “What happened to you?” she whispered.
    The detective’s head snapped up, but he then acted like he hadn’t heard anything. A conversation about new home sales she’d had three weeks ago with CJ popped into her head and it dawned on her that this had to be the new detective from Milwaukee. No wonder he came across as a son-of-a-bitch, this was probably nothing compared to what he’d seen as a cop in the city. She got the impression that his anger had less to do with her, and more to do with his own demons.
    At an impasse, they glared at each other in that way two people only can at four in the