Page 8 of Hunt Me Down

She’dplannedfor him to be the only one there—all the better for the cops to keep an eye on him.

This was so not good.

A killer, murdered while he was surrounded by cops.

Murdered by cops?Her stomach knotted.

Erin turned away from the body. Chill bumps rose on her arms. “Who was here?”

“I was.” Admitted quietly. “Burns, Grimes, and Hyde.”

Her fingers pressed into her right temple.The blood.“And you didn’t see a thing?” Doubt had her voice rising. No way,no waywas that possible.

“We were up front.” His lips tightened. “Didn’t see what happened and didn’t hear a peep.”

Oh, shit. This was a nightmare.

Captain Antonio Young strolled in to join the group. Wearing a perfect suit, not so much as a wrinkle anywhere to be found, he looked like he was ready for a photo op or a press conference.

Erin growled at him. He wasn’t on her top ten list. Over the last week, she’d gotten a pretty up-close look at the captain, and she’d come away thinking the man was a bit of a prick. He was secretive, he didn’t share his case files with the rest of the PD, and Antonio was given to disappearing for long periods of time. Hardly upfront police behavior.

Erin had no idea how the man had ever been promoted through the ranks. He must’ve had some serious connections somewhere or else he’d known where some bodies were buried. Maybe he’d helped toburythose bodies.

“Your men have to be cleared.” Her voice was sharp. The captain knew this, and he still had Grant and the others less than ten feet away from the victim. “What thehellare you thinking?”

His dark eyes narrowed. “I don’t need you to tell me how to do my job.”

“Uh, yes, obviously, you do.” The press would go wild with this story.Wild.“Four cops. One dead perp. You do the math, Captain Young.” Okay, so she sounded like a bitch. Screw the polite chitchat.The man knew better.

Bobby Burrows was dead—not just dead—slaughtered.

Antonio’s handsome face—because, sure, no denying he was a pretty boy with those elegant planes and hollows—tightened. No sign of his flashing dimple. He glared at her, and she glared right back.

“We didn’t do it.” From Grant. Strong, steady Grant. She’d had a good feeling about him from the first moment she’d met him at the courthouse. A real upfront kind of guy.

Now this…

“We’re going to have to prove that,” she said.Not going to be easy.

The crime scene photographer took another photo.

Erin licked her lips and knew what she had to do. “Excuse me.” Much as she hated it...

She was going to have to get close to that body. She spun and headed for the perp. Correction, victim now. Her steps slowed as she approached the body. “Give me a minute, Mark,” she said to the crime scene analyst, and he moved back.

Less than a foot away, she stopped. She didn’t touch Bobby or the bars, no way was she going to risk contaminating evidence. But...

But her eyes touched him. Her gaze scanned every inch of him, paying careful attention to the wounds and?—

Dammit.

Her heart slammed into her chest. Those weren’t knife wounds. No, sheknewthe shape of those wounds.

Intimately.

Those slices had been made by claws. She’d seen marks like that too many times in the past. Her nostrils twitched as she stared at Bobby’s bloody form.

The cops there—the captain, the three men, and the woman—they were human. So were the crime scene guys.

---