Crashing Heat by Richard Castle

Author:Richard Castle [Castle, Richard]
Language: eng
Format: epub, pdf
Tags: Mystery, Adult
ISBN: 1368040527
Google: 6FtkDwAAQBAJ
Amazon: 1368040527
Barnesnoble: 1368040527
Goodreads: 40697313
Publisher: Kingswell
Published: 2019-01-01T06:00:00+00:00

Heat and Rook drove off in one direction, while Ian headed the opposite way. The collaboration, such as it was, had ended for the time being. Heat asked Ian to call her with any new information; he gave her an ambiguous nod, and they went their separate ways.

Heat had set up a conference call with her squad back at the precinct. Roach was handling the Lincoln Center investigation, but she needed an update. Her being in Cambria and wrapped up in her own murder investigation didn’t absolve her of responsibility. She was still the precinct commander, and that meant staying abreast of everything that was going on at the Two-Oh, even in her absence.

“We’re pounding the pavement, Cap, but so far we’re coming up zero.” Raley’s voice was apologetic.

Nikki and Rook were back in the hotel room. She leaned back in the chair, staring at the whiteboard but not seeing. “Come on, guys. Someone killed that kid.”

“The best we have right now are a few strands of hair Parry found stuck under a jagged edge of one of the vic’s fingernails,” Ochoa said. “She’s running it for DNA, but that’ll take a while, and who knows if we’ll even get a hit off of it.”

“What’s she thinking?” Nikki asked. Parry was good at creating scenarios for the bodies that wound up on her table. Did the hair belong to one of the killers? Nikki could take Lauren’s opinion on that to the bank.

“Parry thinks that the attackers held our vic under the water at the plaza. Water from the dude’s lungs are a match to the pool. He gave a good fight, though. One of his nails ripped, leaving a jagged edge. Joon Chin must have been holding on to his assailant’s head, fighting for his life. Unbeknownst to our killer, he left behind a calling card.”

“Still nothing about where our vic was before he died?”

“Negative,” Raley answered. “We’ve checked every coffee shop in a two-mile radius around Lincoln Center. If Chin was there, no one remembers him. I’ve scanned all the connecting street cams, but there’s no sign of them around any of those coffee shops.”

“What about—”

“Around NYU? Checked. Nothing.”

If the King of All Surveillance Media had come up empty, that meant there was nothing to find.

“Sorry to say it, boys, but you’re going to have to do this the old-fashioned way.”

“Already have our walking shoes on,” Ochoa said.

“And the knuckles are wrapped,” Raley said. “We’re going to knock till we drop.”

There was no doubt in her mind that Roach would do whatever it took to find some kind of justice for Joon Chin. She gave them her blessing, then signed off with a resigned “Keep me posted.”

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