Wrath's Storm: A Masters' Admiralty Novel by Mari Carr (desktop ebook reader .txt) 📕

plus the dismembered, non-mob-attributed files, are in the second category, which for simplicity we’ll call non-organized-crime dismemberment. From there, I’ve split them into several subcategories. First…” She took a breath. “Women who suffered antemortem or perimortem torture and rape.”

The word stuck a little in her throat, but she was focused on doing her job, and she blocked out everything else.

Jakob stared at her, his attention and focus complete and unwavering. “They could still be organized-crime kills.”

She liked it when he talked. Liked it even more because he so rarely spoke that his relative chattiness when they were alone made her feel special.

“That’s very true, but for one thing. I think that for these victims, the death was accidental. The focus for the unsub was the torture.”

He was still for a moment, processing. “I hate it when I torture someone and they accidentally die.”

Annalise blinked, then burst into laughter. Jakob rarely joked, but when he did, it was usually deadpan and delivered in such a way that people who didn’t know him as intimately as she did wouldn’t actually know if it was a joke.

When her giggles subsided, she looked up to see him smiling at her. Her heart skipped a beat. He had a gorgeous smile. His lower lip was full and luscious. More than once, she’d imagined biting his lip, maybe tugging on it to show him how much she wanted him. Then he’d growl and grab her butt, lift her up. She’d wrap her legs around him and then…

Annalise shoved the lid of her laptop up and stared at the autopsy photo of a severed hand.

Perfect libido killer.

“Of the two lists I’ve created, we’ve gone over antemortem rape and torture.” She took a breath and straightened her shoulders. “Next are victims whose primary pre-death injuries were due to rape. Some also show signs of physical attack, but nothing that would be defined as torture.”

“Annalise…”

She glanced up, holding herself tight. If he asked if she was okay, she might not be.

Jakob stared at her for a moment, and there was something in his eyes she couldn’t decipher. But he didn’t say anything, only nodded for her to go on.

“The commonality between the two subcategories is the rape and the postmortem dismemberment.”

“Torture is odd man out in this group.”

“Yes.”

“How did they die?”

“This is where it becomes problematic—the causes of death are different.” She flipped through her notes. “A fair number of those from blood loss. Though with those who died of internal bleeding, it was most likely not intentional, as it was with those who had arteries severed.”

“Severed during amputation?” Jakob asked.

“Amputation means they survive the removal.”

Jakob grunted. “Learned something new.”

Annalise’s lips twitched. “If we want to be very precise, I could have titled these categories defensive dismemberment—which is what we have with our organized-crime-related kills, in which the dismemberment was functional to aid in disposal and/or eliminating evidence. But the ones we’re discussing, that this investigation should focus on, are offensive dismemberment.” Whatever amusement they briefly shared melted away as she refocused. “In offensive dismemberment, the focus of the dismemberer is the act of separating and sectioning the body.”

That was going to be a major part of the profile, but for now she put it aside.

“Back to the causes of death. Given the state of many of the bodies, some CODs are listed as unknown or pending. Others have only a probable COD, not definitive.”

“Offensive dismemberment, if done while still alive…” Jakob grimaced. It was a small twitch of an expression, but she saw it.

“Death most likely would be from blood loss, or from the trauma of the action causing cardiac arrest.” She tapped her fingers on her notes. “Cardiac and respiratory arrest are the most common CODs in those files where one is listed.”

Jakob stiffened, glancing at his hands before looking up at her. “If you break a man’s neck correctly, sever the spinal column, the diaphragm is paralyzed.”

Annalise held her breath, shocked by his words…but not surprised. She knew he was formidable, but he was also so chivalrous that she’d forgotten, or maybe never realized, that to become a Ritter, he was probably a dangerous man.

“Respiratory arrest is the technical cause of death,” he finished.

Annalise gave herself a moment to see if fear would grip her. It didn’t. This was Jakob.

Her Jakob.

No. Thinking like that was just as bad as imagining his hands on her.

Maybe worse.

Nothing about what the fleet admiral had asked her to do was easy or straightforward. If it had been, crime filters on ECRIS—European Criminal Records Information System—would have already flagged files with enough similarities to indicate a serial killer.

Annalise took a breath, flipping through her messy pages of notes. So many victims, so many ways to look at and assess the figurative reams of information.

“I’m sorry, I know this is a little confusing.”

“Don’t apologize.” Jakob nodded for her to continue. “I understand.”

She smiled softly. “Thank you, Jakob.” She had so many things she needed to thank him for. “How about I skip to the actionable intelligence?”

Jakob stiffened, sitting forward, as if he were going to jump up and go get the bad guys as soon as she pointed him in the right direction.

“I narrowed it down further by gender—only women, though they were the majority of the victims anyway. Eliminated any who were dismembered but not decapitated, since we know Josephine’s head was removed. I also filtered for some important similarities in relation to how the dismemberment was achieved. Then I made some judgment calls based on the other circumstances around the cases.” It was those decisions made on interpretation of details that she was most worried about because she wasn’t good at this anymore.

Except, right now…she felt sure of her choices. Confident in her analysis.

Brilliant.

“After all that, I have two names,” she concluded.

“You took the list from hundreds to two.”

Annalise looked down, self-doubt rearing its familiar head. Had she made the right calls? Focused on the right things? There were so many unknowns.

“Good job,” Jakob said quietly.

“There are probably more, maybe