The Murder That Never Was: A Forensic Instincts Novel Read Online Free PDF Page A

Ryan McKay—the team’s techno-whiz and the hottest hunk going—walked in. Too bad he’d just celebrated the big three-oh and was way too old for Emma’s tastes. To her, Ryan was a smartass big brother. To the rest of the female population? He was a Peter Luger steak waiting to be devoured. Those smoldering Black-Irish good looks and rock-hard body combined with his air of casual deference was the magic combination.
    Too bad all those drooling women were shit outta luck. Whether or not Ryan admitted it to himself, he was pretty much taken, and by one of Forensic Instincts’ very own: Claire Hedgleigh. Claire was the FI team’s claircognizant—or, to quote the vernacular, their psychic. She and Ryan were polar opposites, so the sparks flew like crazy when they were around each other. That applied at the office and, as the whole team knew, in the bedroom.
    Now Ryan marched up to Emma’s desk, clearly in a whole different mindset than Emma.
    “Hey, brat,” he greeted her. “I just came from the gym. Look what I bought.” He pulled open a bag and flourished what looked to be a complicated set of yellow bands, with straps and handles and God knew what else.
    “Uh… that’s cool—I think,” Emma said, her attention temporarily diverted from the article she’d been reading. “What is it? Some kind of sex toy?”
    Ryan frowned. “No, and you’re way too young to know what those are.”
    “I’m twenty-two.”
    “Barely out of diapers. Anyway, this is a TRX Suspension Trainer—a portable performance training tool. You can use it anywhere. It leverages gravity and body weight—in this case, mine—so I can do hundreds of exercises right here at the brownstone.”
    “Why were you shopping at the gym? I thought you and Aidan were planning Marc’s bachelor party?”
    Marc Devereaux, Casey’s right-hand guy at FI—former Navy SEAL, former agent for the FBI’s Behavioral Analysis Unit—had reunited with the love of his life, and they were tying the knot. Love? Marc? No one ever thought it would happen.
    But it had. And now, Ryan and Aidan, Marc’s older brother, couldn’t get enough shots in ribbing him about it.
    “We’re planning the rager, don’t worry,” Ryan replied with a grin. “We bought Marc a TRX, too. He’ll be thrilled. It was invented by a Navy SEAL. He’ll immediately think it’s a superior device.”
    “And the party?” Emma prompted.
    “Oh, yeah, that. It’s all set. It’ll be me, Aidan, and three of Marc’s buddies. We’re hitting the gym for a hard-core circuit training competition. After that, we’ll be drinking ourselves into oblivion at that new bar one block over.”
    “That’s a bachelor party?”
    Ryan’s grin widened. “In Marc’s eyes, yes. He specifically said no strippers.”
    “And you listened?”
    “Sure we did.” Ryan winked. “But we never promised anything about lap dancers. See you later.” He scooped up his new exercise equipment and headed downstairs to his man cave, or his lair, as everyone called it, to try out the TRX.
    Emma’s smile vanished as her gaze drifted back to her computer screen. There was something about this murder that just got to her. Maybe because it was so unfair. Maybe because it hit too damn close to home.
    But it was going to take time for her to put it out of her mind.

    Amtrak Lake Shore Limited, somewhere between Chicago and New York
    May 19th

    Lisa leaned back in her seat, staring blankly out the window as the train sped along to its destination.
    It had been two days since Julie was killed, and she was still a trembling wreck. She’d never get that image out of her head—Julie lying on the ground, crumpled, blood pouring out of her head.
    Dead.
    “Concentrate on the book for a while, and turn your nightmares off.” Miles Parker, who was sitting across from Lisa, clicking away on his laptop, leaned forward and tapped on the textbook. “You’ve got to get that whole ACE Personal Trainer Manual down pat and be