Midnight Obsession (The Midnight Series) by Melinda Leigh

Author:Melinda Leigh [Leigh, Melinda]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781503939257
Publisher: Montlake Romance
Published: 2017-01-03T05:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER

20

Ianelli directed a dashboard heat vent toward his face. He wasn’t looking forward to examining another death scene during this frigging Arctic front.

Fairmont Park was one of the largest park systems in the country, with over nine thousand acres of green space. The Philadelphia Museum of Art sat at the head of the park. Jogging and bike paths lined the Schuylkill River and meandered through the acreage. Even in the bitter cold snap, die-hard runners hit the trails daily. Lemon Hill Drive wound upward away from the river. Ianelli drove past a Prius, three compact SUVs—and the medical examiner’s van.

The brutal weather slamming Philadelphia wasn’t keeping the killer indoors either.

“Odd place to dump a pair of bodies,” Jackson said from the passenger seat.

“Isolated enough, dark and empty at night, especially in this weather.” Ianelli parked on the side of the road just short of the mansion. Built in 1800 as a summer home for a Philadelphia merchant, the Federal-style mansion was now owned by the city and operated as a historical house museum. On the shoveled asphalt, a dozen joggers, clad in tight black pants, colorful coats, and snug hats, gathered next to a fluttering rectangle of crime-scene tape.

Jackson unlatched his seat belt. “Maybe the responding officer jumped the gun. Maybe these bodies aren’t related to the others.”

Ianelli didn’t respond. While he wouldn’t admit to leaping to a conclusion, the second he’d laid eyes on the bodies Monday night, his instincts had told him they were dealing with a serial killer.

They got out of the car and climbed the snow-covered hill. Ianelli took in the stunning view of the icy river, the Victorian-era Boathouse Row, and the cityscape beyond. A frigid blast of wind froze his eyeballs until they watered. At five thirty, daylight was in its death throes. Blue and red lights from emergency vehicles swirled on the dingy white landscape. City snow lost its pristine appeal soon after it fell, pollution and road grime staining it the dirty gray of white socks that needed a good bleaching.

A uniform herded the gawkers away from the scene. The detectives checked in with the officer in charge of the crime scene log.

“Who found them?” Ianelli’s gut cramped as he surveyed the bodies. The wooden pallet was tucked into a tiny clearing in the foliage. The man was beaten, the woman’s throat slit.

Shit.

He’d been right. Serial killer.

“A runner said he ducked into the trees to take a leak.” The uniform pointed to his cruiser. “He was shaking so hard, I put him in the back to warm up.”

“Thanks. Can you hold onto him for a few more minutes?” Ianelli asked.

“Sure.” The uniform went back to crowd control. “OK, people. Move along.”

Ianelli and Jackson approached the scene. Dr. Gonzalez was already at work. Her parka-and-boots-clad frame leaned over the bodies. Jackson walked closer and peered over her shoulder. She gave him one slightly irritated glance. He backed off to a respectful distance, and she went back to work without comment, the seriousness of a second set of ritual-type murders seemingly putting their feud on hold.

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