Night Songs by Penny Mickelbury

Author:Penny Mickelbury [Mickelbury, Penny]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781466054486
Google: Z7Raw3qvCoEC
Amazon: B010C78ZSE
Barnesnoble: B010C78ZSE
Goodreads: 1137627
Publisher: Penny Mickelbury
Published: 2011-07-11T03:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER EIGHT

When Gianna opened the door to the Think Tank for the eight o’clock weekly Unit meeting on the second Monday in September all talk ceased and mouths from which words had been flowing freely the moment before hung open at the sight of her. “What’s wrong with you people? Never seen a cowboy before?” Gianna wore loose fitting black jeans, black snakeskin cowboy boots—a wonderfully extravagant gift from Mimi to celebrate what she thought was a big step up for Gianna—a white shirt, and her usual under-the-arm holster. She crossed to her customary place at the head of the long table, sat down, put her cowboy-booted feet up on the table and accepted the mug of coffee Tim gave her; he always had it ready and waiting. She sipped from the cup and waited for Eric to get started, impatient because she had a meeting in an hour with the two undercover cops working the Daniel Boone killings, and she’d promised to make a personal visit to the Office of Latino Affairs to hear firsthand complaints that investigators from the Immigration and Naturalization Service were once again staging illegal raids on restaurants and hotels downtown looking for undocumented workers. She’d also promised to look into why the city’s Department of Public Works, after three weeks, still hadn’t removed the swastikas and other graffiti spray-painted on the wall of the downtown Hebrew Academy.

“Nice boots, Boss,” Cassie offered.

“Thanks,” Gianna said shortly, reaching for the ever-expanding stack of files. “And may I assume that there’s something here from the ME’s office?” she asked, even as she found what she was looking for, and it took about three seconds for the gist of the analysis to reach her understanding. “Fuck a duck,” she exclaimed under her breath, and looked up over her reading glasses to chastise whoever had snickered. But her heart wasn’t in it.

The raw truth staring her in the face had knocked the wind out of her: The three-year analysis of cause of death in females from 1 January 1991 to the present indicated that a total of nine women had died from knife wounds to the chest. Gianna studied the pattern of the murders: One in April of 1991; two in October of 1991; one each in March and October of 1992, then one each in March and September of 1993; and one each in March and April of 1994. In three of the cases, the knives had been removed from the victims’ bodies prior to their discovery. Four of the cases remained Jane Does.

Gianna removed her reading glasses and slid them into her shirt pocket. Having to wear them all the time when reading was a new reality in her life and it annoyed her more than she had words to express. Now she’d need to add the Chief to her list of meetings for the day, to let him know that the serial killer had struck nine times, not six, as they’d first believed.

“Cassie,” she said, standing up, “Meet me at the Public Works Department at two-thirty, director’s office.

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