The Perfect Murder Read Online Free PDF Page A

investigating. Gloria's frantic."
    At her rapid-fire explanation, he swung around to face her. "What're you sayin'? Someone kidnapped Latisha? Someone kidnapped her and Marcie?"
    "We don't know. But it's possible. It's also possible they've run away, or been injured and are lost." The pervasive chill of deepening dusk in mid-January seemed to seep into her bones. "Murder is, of course, another possibility."
    Although he didn't actually speak, his eyes revealed plenty. He hadn't known his daughter was gone. He wasn't sure how to react to the information, but he wasn't as shocked as a lot of men would be. Living in this neighborhood, he'd probably seen too much to gasp at the word murder. "Why would anyone wanna kill her?" he asked at length. "She a good kid."
    "That's what I'm trying to find out. You haven't seen or heard from her in the past three weeks, have you?" she asked.
    "No. But I never hear from her. She's a straight-A student, too damn good for her father." His wide shoulders seemed to hunch forward. "But maybe that's 28

    'cause I ain't been much of a father."
    Jane made an effort to conceal her surprise at his honesty and regret. "Do you know if she had any involvement with gangs or--"
    "I told you. She a good kid. She's no gangbanger." He ran a hand over his bald head. "What does Gloria say?"
    "That she and Marcie are gone. That's all. Even the police can't locate them."
    Stepping back, he looked her up and down. "If you ain't with the police, who are you? Gloria ain't got money for no P.I."
    TLS was well-known in some circles. Skye and the others who'd founded the charity had solved several high-profile cases. As a result, they'd been popular with the media. But there was no doubt a large segment of Sacramento's one million residents had never heard of them or hadn't paid more than passing attention. "I'm a victims' advocate. I work for a charity that's been operating in the area for about seven years. Gloria came to ask for my help."
    He fingered his clean-shaven chin. "So you came down here out of the goodness of your heart?"
    She ignored his skepticism. "I make a nominal salary, if that's what you mean."
    "Whatever they payin' you ain't enough," he said. "You have no business in this neighborhood. I suggest you don't come back." Eager to gain its freedom, or rip out her throat, one pit bull crawled forward. His toenails clicked on the metal weather stripping across the opening, but Luther growled a quick "Get inside," and the dog did exactly that--with its tail between its legs.
    "I'll ask around," he said to her, "see what I can find out about Latisha and give you a call."
    She fumbled in her purse for a card. He must've recognized the shape of the gun handle beneath her sweater as her coat parted because he made a tsking sound and shook his head. "Don't ever bring a weapon to a man's house unless you're prepared to use it."
    He thought she was a joke, the gun some sort of accessory--like earrings or fake nails.
    "Excuse me?" she said.
    "You heard me. That's askin' for trouble. Folks 'round here got no respect for poseurs, no matter how fine they look."
    Jane locked eyes with him. Now that she'd met "Lucifer"--now that he was 29

    standing directly in front of her--she realized there wasn't much about him that intimidated her. Not after what she'd been through. Despite his size, he wasn't half as frightening as Oliver had been. Jane didn't think anyone could be as frightening as her slight, soft-spoken and coldly calculating spouse.
    "My husband was a serial killer, Mr. Wilson. He murdered four people by stabbing them to death and he nearly killed me in the same way." She raised her chin to reveal the scar where he'd slit her throat. "I survived by the narrowest of margins. But I did survive. And I promise you I'm prepared to shoot anyone who tries to hurt me again." She smiled and stuck out her card. "Please call me if you come up with anything on Latisha. I'm determined to find her and Marcie."
    The