Cold Death by Mary Stone (best e reader for android TXT) 📕

When they rounded the corner, Ellie’s shoulders eased a little. “So?”

The chief shook his head. “I don’t think clearing your schedule to only work Kingsley cases is a very good idea. What about your cold cases? You still have crimes to solve, missing children to find.”

Guilt pinged in Ellie’s gut, but she lifted her chin. The missing children had disappeared over a decade ago. The world wouldn’t catch fire if the files sat on her desk for another few months. “The only cold case I can focus on right now is the one involving the girl Kingsley pitted me against when he held me prisoner in that warehouse.”

They continued walking and were steps away from the precinct’s front door before the chief replied. “As much as I’d like to deny you that case for your own safety, I feel like it wouldn’t be the right thing to do. So go ahead, work that case if you must. But Ellie?”

He paused on the sidewalk a few yards short of the door, so Ellie stopped too. “Yes?”

His forehead creased. “Please, be careful. We’ve lost too much to this monster already. I will not accept losing you too. Do you copy?”

Ellie managed a wobbly smile. “Yes, sir.”

“Good.”

The chief nodded, and they both started walking again.

“Detective Kline, hold up!”

Shoes pounded the pavement behind them, and they turned in unison as a skinny man in a white lab coat barreled down the sidewalk.

He staggered to a stop and doubled over, gasping for air. When he’d recovered enough to straighten, his forehead and neck glistened with sweat, and his entire face was red. “Sorry…haven’t been to the gym since before Thanksgiving. This…was in the car…for you. Passenger…seat.”

The forensics tech extended the manila file that had been secured in a plastic evidence bag to Ellie, but Chief Johnson swooped in first, blocking her.

Ellie held out her hand. “Please, I think it’s safe for me to look. I highly doubt there’s an explosive masquerading as a piece of paper.”

Chief Johnson arched a brow at her outstretched palm until she sighed and crossed her arms. “Fine. I’ll wait until you’ve decided that a folder isn’t a threat.”

As if she had a choice.

Ellie sank back on her heels as the chief pulled a pair of latex gloves from his pocket. Once he’d slipped them on, Chief Johnson took the file from the tech and began inspecting the exterior folder.

They found her name on the side, in large, bold letters:

Kline, Ellie

Dread crawled across Ellie’s neck. Both that format and font were familiar.

Chief Johnson’s lips thinned into a flat line as he arrived at the same conclusion. “This looks like your cold case file from thirteen years ago.”

Ellie agreed, and her stomach soured. Could that really be her cold case file, and if so, how? How had Kingsley gotten his hands on it, and why return the thing now?

Chief Johnson turned to the waiting tech. “I’ll need an evidence kit. Bring one to me down in the lab.”

Cheeks still flushed, the skinny tech nodded and scurried off, and the chief focused on Ellie. “I’ll have the CSI team take pictures of each item and send them to you.”

11

With her mind spinning at a million miles per minute, Ellie paced the lobby floor clutching the folder of photocopies to her chest, ignoring the curious glances thrown her way by the desk clerk and passing patrol officers.

The door whooshed open, and Jillian Reed, Ellie’s best friend and sometimes roommate, rushed over and threw her arms around Ellie without a trace of self-consciousness. “Are you okay? I can’t believe this is happening.”

Ellie closed her eyes and squeezed her friend hard before pulling away. “None of this is okay.”

Jillian’s blue eyes were rimmed in pink, and blonde strands escaped her usual neat ponytail. “I know. Poor Detective Fortis. It’s not right. How many more lives is that asshole going to destroy before the end?”

That question had been haunting Ellie for months. “None, if I can help it. I need you to let me into the file room.”

Jillian nodded. “I was headed there now. Anything in particular you’re looking for?”

On their way to the basement where Jillian worked as the evidence desk clerk, Ellie explained about the file that Kingsley had left for her.

Jillian paused in the stairwell, her eyes round. “Oh my god, he left that for you? In Detective Fortis’s car?”

“Apparently.”

Ellie had already hit her quota for concerned looks from coworkers today, so she continued down the stairs. Outside the door, the hallway that led to the evidence room was darker than the rest of the building and held a faint musty odor, like maybe once upon a time, a leak had never been fixed properly, and the damp air allowed mold to flourish.

The touchpad beeped as Jillian typed in the code, then the lock clicked open. Ellie dumped the copies that Chief Johnson had sent to her office on Jillian’s desk before bypassing the current case evidence and heading straight for the back room, where the older cold cases were stored.

Ellie shivered as they perused the white evidence boxes stacked on the shelves. The temperature down here was always chillier than everywhere else, and the frigid air bit through her blazer and thin top.

“Here it is!”

Jillian pushed onto her tiptoes to grab a box off the top shelf labeled Kline, Ellie. “I have no idea how Kingsley could have gotten his hands on the information in here. Unless…do you think there’s another mole in our office?”

Ellie tagged behind as Jillian carried the box to her desk. “I don’t know, but I promise to ask him once I drag him out of whatever hole he’s hiding in.”

Jillian set the box down near the folder of photocopies and pulled out a chair. “All right, here we go. You ready?”

Ellie sank into a second chair. “Let’s do it.” While she opened the folder to the copies of papers Kingsley had left for her, her friend removed the lid from the box