Page 4 of Psychic Obsession
"The ME.He examined the other two.If he's not available, I guess Audry Hinds will take it, but I don't think Mallon will let it go."
Cold seeped into Nikolai."What do you mean, the other two?"
The man's eyes swept over his face."About six months ago, you'll have to check the date, there was a woman placed on a rug in her living room, her throat cut--" He gestured back into the room."Then there was another one about four months ago.A woman with a sliced throat, on a rug in the middle of her living room."He shrugged."Third time's a charm, right?You'll get him this time."
The man took a step away as if to leave, but Nikolai snagged the sleeve of his white disposable coveralls."Wait.Are you telling me there is a serial killer?"
The man gave him a confused look."Eh...It's your case, isn't it?Detective Bedell retired and handed it to you?"
Nikolai was going to kill someone--strangle them because he'd seen enough blood for one day."Yeah, he retired."But Lieutenant Medlin hadn't said anything about a serial killer.
The man shrugged, and Nikolai realized he still held onto his sleeve."What's your name?"
"Oh, sorry."The man offered his gloved hand."Jaxon Saylor."He motioned at a woman walking out of the room."Maeve Dubose, and eh..."He looked around, but the room had emptied.They weren't done, but for some reason, everyone had found things to do elsewhere at the moment.
"I'll let you know when we've found everything we can, Detective..."He tilted his head as if there was a question in the statement.It took a couple of seconds, then he wanted to smack himself.
"Sorry.Nikolai Nesterova."
Saylor narrowed his eyes."Nesterova?Have we met?"
Nikolai shook his head.It was hard to see what a person looked like underneath the marshmallow suit, but he didn't think they'd met, and he didn't want to mention his family, so he settled for the head shake.
"I'll ping you, all right."
Isaac appeared by his side."Ready for some lunch?"
With the scent of death clinging to his nostrils, food wasn't what he was thinking of."I think we need to have a talk with Medlin."
Isaac sighed."I don't wanna."
For fuck's sake."How old are you?"
"Thirty-seven."
Nikolai looked him up and down.Thirty-seven?He'd have guessed thirty, though he was a detective, and Nikolai had the feeling he'd been one for some time.
"How come?"
"You act like you're seventeen."
Isaac snorted."And how old are you, Papi?"
Isaac was as white as they came, blond, blue-eyed, with a boy-next-door appearance."I didn't know you spoke Spanish."
"I don't."
"Right.Medlin, now."He turned and walked out of the blood-drenched apartment.Shouldn't someonehave noticed a woman being murdered in an apartment building?He guessed they'd have to wait for the autopsy report, but if she was alive when the murderer had sliced her throat, there would've been sounds.She would've fought, would have screamed.
"You never answered."Isaac tumbled after him like an excited puppy.
"What did you ask?"
"How old you are.I think I read your birth date somewhere, but I can't remember."
Nikolai glared at him."Forty-one."
"Looking good."Isaac wiggled his eyebrows.
