The Murder Game Read Online Free PDF

unofficial capacity and not flash my credentials around unless it becomes absolutely necessary.”
    “Do you suppose you could try to be charming instead of commanding?” Griff asked, a devilish twinkle in his cold blue eyes. “We might get more information that way.”
    “I think you have enough charm for both of us.”
    “Why, thank you, ma’am. I take that as a compliment.”
    Nic groaned quietly. “You can take it any way you want to.”
    Griff stood. “Do you think there’s any way we can put aside our personal feelings and actually work together? We could call a temporary truce.”
    Nic squared her shoulders and faced him. “I’m willing to try.”
    “Good enough.”
    “The murder in Ballinger was recent,” she said, considering their truce to be in effect now. God help them both. “The body was found only yesterday. What about the woman in Stillwater?”
    “Her body was found the first of the month, nearly four weeks ago.”
    “Then we should go to Ballinger first, gather what info we can, and go from there to Stillwater.”
    “Agreed. I’ll have the Powell jet ready to take off first thing in the morning.”
    “All right. I’ll meet you back here at—what time in the morning?”
    “Where are you going tonight?” he asked.
    “I saw several halfway-decent-looking motels on the drive here.”
    “You’ll stay here. I have plenty of room.”
    “I wouldn’t feel comfortable staying here.”
    “Why not? Because you don’t like me? Or because you’re afraid you won’t be able to resist me if I come on to you? Believe me, you’re safe with me.” He put up his hands in an I-wouldn’t-touch-you-with-a-ten-foot-pole gesture.
    “I don’t like you,” she freely admitted. “And we both know that I do not find you irresistible, so thank you for the invitation to spend the night. I’ll get my bag out of the car and—damn, I’m in a rental car.”
    “Give me the keys and I’ll have Sanders get your bag and tomorrow he’ll take care of returning the car.”
    She smiled at Griff. “My goodness, it must be nice to issue orders and have everyone around you snap to it.”
    Griff clicked his tongue. “Now, now, Nicki, what happened to our truce?”
    Nicki? Where had that come from? He hadn’t gotten a rise out of her when he’d called her honey, so apparently, he decided to use something he knew she’d hate even more—his own personal nickname for her!
    Forcing herself not to react to his taunt, she unzipped her shoulder bag, delved inside, and brought out the car keys. “Here you go.” She dropped the keys into his open palm, careful not to touch him. “Thank you. And please thank Sanders for me.”
    Griff closed his fingers around the keys, all the while not taking his eyes off Nic. “Why do you think he called us? Why alert us to the fact that he’s killing again? He could have killed a dozen or more women before anyone connected the dots and realized there was a bizarre connection between the murders.”
    Nic sighed deeply. “I have no idea, but my gut tells me that sooner or later, he’ll tell us his reason. And I don’t think we’ll like it.”

    Pudge removed the mannequin’s head, placed it on a stand, and set it on the round table where Kendall Moore’s scalp lay. With the utmost care, he gently placed the bloody scalp on the bald plastic head, working with it patiently to position it just right. When he was satisfied with his handiwork, he opened one of the glass cases on the shelf, the fifth one in the top row, then lifted the head and eased it into the case. Next he opened the small file cabinet under the metal desk in the corner and removed the label he had made weeks ago. The label was typed in neat, black Times Roman print, and read:
     
     
    Kendall Moore, #5.
     
     
    He closed the glass case, walked back across the room, and sat in the desk chair. As he gazed lovingly across the room at his five beautiful trophies, Pudge smiled.
    Wonder how long it will take