The Profiler Read Online Free PDF Page A

disappeared.
    Luke looked at Ellie. “What do you think?”
    She frowned. “I think she’s legit. She seems genuinely distraught and there doesn’t seem to be any reason why the girl wouldn’t come home, although I’d like to talk to some of the people she works with, in particular this McNeill fellow. After all, it appears he was the last one to see her.”
    “Yeah, I think you’re right. I wouldn’t mind meeting the father, just to get a take on him, but I’m not sensing any undertones here. Seems like a classic missing person’s case.”
    Evelyn came back into the room brandishing a photo and handed it to Ellie. “Here it is. I found it with a few others I’ve just downloaded and printed.”
    The picture showed Josie standing in what looked like the sitting room. A glimpse of chintz-covered lounge could be seen in the far left-hand corner. Her plain turquoise uniform fit comfortably over an average-size frame. Medium height. Straight, short, dark brown hair. Guileless chocolate-brown eyes. A warm olive complexion and a smile as big as Mount Everest lit up a small, heart-shaped face.
    “She’s beautiful,” Ellie murmured.
    Tears crowded Evelyn’s eyes. “Yes, she is.” She cleared her throat. “Please bring her home, Detectives. We need to have her home.”
    Ellie clasped the woman’s hand and squeezed, but the words of reassurance wouldn’t come. “We’ll do our best, Mrs Ward; we’ll do our best.”
    That was all she could manage.

 
    CHAPTER THREE
     
    The icy sleet bit into Clayton Munro’s cheeks, scorching them with its silent fury. He tugged up the collar of his jacket and tried to ward off the bitter chill. The Woden Cemetery was deserted. Canberra, in July, wasn’t the place to be outdoors if you had a choice.
    But that was it. He didn’t have a choice.
    Plenty would disagree with him. After all, she’d been gone nearly three years. More time than some people stayed together. More time than he’d been her husband.
    Ancient pine trees stood silent witness, dark and heavy in the winter gloom. He kneeled beside the headstone and stared at the letters carved into the unforgiving stone.
    Lisa Anne Munro.
    Beloved wife of Clayton
    Mother of Olivia
    1 st March, 1983—2 nd September, 2008.
    Forever in our hearts.
    With an unsteady hand, he reached out and traced her name. Even through the thick leather of his gloves, he was sure he could feel her warmth.
    Which was just plain stupid.
    He knew that. With his head, he knew that. It was his heart that refused to believe it.
    Tears pricked the back of his eyes. He swiped at the moisture with his hand.
    For Christ’s sake, she was dead . When was he going to let go and get on with his life? Wasn’t that what everyone kept telling him to do? Even his brother had weighed in the last time, which just went to show that crap about twins being in tune with one another was total bullshit.
    And what about Olivia? How was a four-year-old meant to understand why her mother wasn’t there to kiss her goodnight? Christ, he still struggled with that.
    Now he was expected to carry on without her—had even managed to do so. At least, that’s what they thought. He couldn’t bring himself to tell them it was all a lie.
    He was a lie. He hadn’t moved on. He couldn’t. His life had ended when she’d swallowed the bottle of sleeping pills.
    The sound of his phone ringing against his chest snagged his attention. He stood a little stiffly and tried to ignore it. On the fourth ring, he cursed and dragged it out of his pocket. Why the hell couldn’t they just leave him alone ?
    “For fuck’s sake, Riley, how many times do I have to tell you? I’m not interested. I couldn’t care less if she has legs up to her armpits and tits the size of Pamela Anderson’s. The answer’s no. ”
    “Legs up to her armpits? Pamela Anderson? Are you kidding? Even I’d be interested in seeing that.”
    His heart skipped a beat. The voice was familiar, even though he