Baby Jane Doe. Julie MillerЧитать онлайн книгу.
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“I’m sorry.” She breathed against the middle button of his shirt. “I never fall apart like this.”
“You just need to get some sleep,” he murmured gently. He rubbed soothing circles across her back, trying to ignore her sweet, inviting curves. His attraction to her was completely wrong, and yet, holding her like this felt completely right.
Her fingertips stroked his spine, as if trying to placate him. But at her gentle touch, a deep, illicit longing surged inside him. Man, he wanted to kiss her. He wanted to do other things, too. But he’d be content if he could just keep her in his arms throughout the night. If he could touch her and know she was safe, know she was with him.
“If you tell anyone that Shauna Cartwright is…”
What? Beautiful? Tough? Sexy? “Human?”
Her nod was a caress against his chest. “I’ll put a reprimand in your file if you let that one slip.”
Eli grinned. “Your secret’s safe with me, boss lady.”
Baby Jane Doe
Julie Miller
For Precious Doe (aka Erica Michelle Marie Green), whose tragic story inspired a police force and an entire city. And for the good, kind citizens of Kansas City, Missouri, who loved a little girl enough to create a lasting memorial to a precious angel. While inspired by a real event, the details and characters of this story are entirely the results of the author’s imagination.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Julie Miller attributes her passion for writing romance to all those fairy tales she read growing up and shyness. Encouragement from her family to write down all those feelings she couldn’t express became a love for the written word. She gets continued support from her fellow members of the Prairieland Romance Writers, where she serves as the resident “grammar goddess.” This award-winning author and teacher has published several paranormal romances. Inspired by the likes of Agatha Christie and Encyclopedia Brown, Ms. Miller believes the only thing better than a good mystery is a good romance.
Born and raised in Missouri, she now lives in Nebraska with her husband, son and smiling guard dog, Maxie. Write to Julie at P.O. Box 5162, Grand Island, NE 68802-5162.
CAST OF CHARACTERS
Shauna Cartwright—KCPD’s most public face. The acting commissioner has her hands full with an unsolved murder, an anxious city and a possible saboteur on the force.
Eli Masterson—Kansas City’s most private cop. An Internal Affairs detective still living down the sullied reputation of his corrupt partner. After saving his boss’s life, a forbidden attraction develops.
Seth Cartwright—Shauna’s son, a vice cop at KCPD.
Sarah Cartwright—Shauna’s daughter. Unlike her overprotective twin brother, she likes the new man in her mom’s life.
Austin Cartwright—Shauna’s ex just won’t stay away.
Michael Garner—Shauna’s right hand in the commissioner’s office.
Rebecca Page—Crime beat reporter. Just who is her inside source?
Yours Truly—Is his vendetta against the commish personal or professional?
Baby Jane Doe—Her unsolved case united an entire police force. But new evidence at her suspected killer’s trial can rip the city apart.
Contents
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter One
Nice.
Three customers ahead of him, one window over in the lobby of the Cattlemen’s Bank in the heart of downtown Kansas City.
Detective Eli Masterson didn’t need the eye for detail he possessed to notice an attractive woman when he saw one. Her mocha-colored suit, a few shades darker than her short blond hair, hugged some prime feminine curves. The light wool skirt stopped just short of hiding the dimple at the back of her right knee. The sensible brown pumps that matched her leather shoulder bag didn’t detract from the long arch of her calves. Even in heels, Ms. Tailored Professional Lady barely topped Eli’s shoulder, putting her at average height. But he’d bet a good part of her was legs.
Long, fit, curvy legs, capped by that sweet butt.
Very nice.
Eli breathed deeply, savoring the quickening rhythm of his pulse. A good, lustful look was about all he had time for these days. So he waited patiently and enjoyed his wayward private thoughts before he had to move to the front of the line and deal with reality again.
He’d taken the morning off because he had Jillian’s hearing at ten o’clock. Today he was transferring what was left of his parents’ insurance money into his checking account. His baby sister might be fined for possession, or more likely, she’d be sent straight to rehab again. Eli intended to be able to sign on the dotted line and drive her there himself. Maybe this time they could get her off her cocaine habit and make it stick. Lord knew he’d run out of ideas about how to keep her safe from herself.
He moved forward in line as the skinny kid at the front thanked the teller and turned. Despite the sunglasses and hooded sweatshirt, a passing glance revealed that the man at the front of the line wasn’t a kid so much as a thirty-something who needed to lose the saggy pants and accept that gangsta was a look few people over sixteen could pull off without drawing undue attention to themselves. Of course, that was probably the point.
Eli’s gaze slid back to the blond chick. He’d much rather pay attention to her more subtle charms.
She didn’t seem to mind the early-morning crush of customers, hurrying in to take care of business before they had to report to work themselves. She stood out from the others in line the way a froth of cream cooled his morning coffee.
He liked a woman who was calm and sophisticated, and buttoned up tight like her conservative suit. Women like that played relationships the way they conducted business. There were always rules to follow, barriers to respect. A man couldn’t get in too deep with her, which suited him fine.
Intelligent conversation was good. Shared interests even better. Mutual lust was a bonus. But Eli knew enough about getting burned by emotional connections that once he detected any hints of personal commitment going on beneath the suit of a pin-striped pinup, he walked away from them as fast as his size thirteens could carry him.
Hmm. Not just a nice bod. She was observant, too. Blondie had noticed the over-the-hill rapper wannabe as well. She hesitated as she approached the teller window and turned her head ever so slightly to watch his departure.
Eli caught a glimpse of her profile and a spark of recognition tried to catch hold inside him. But she smiled and turned away at the teller’s greeting before a name could click into place.
What did register was that she was older than he’d suspected from the rear view. But she wore it well. The fringe of hair that framed her face had blended into the clean contours of her jaw and cheek.