Page 13 of The Crime of Intensity

I glance over her shoulder to study the information along with her when I simply say, “I still have valuable contacts.”

“How are we going to narrow down this list to a mere few? Check alibies? We don’t know exact timeframes of some of the victims…maybe places? Though, this list is all the people who are, or have been, employed as a crime scene cleaner, right?”

“Right.” I release a sigh. “It’s a lead we need to check out. We might get lucky or it will result in nothing.”

“It beats twiddling our thumbs,” Kathleen murmurs. “Did your contact crosscheck the names of the foster kids from Arthur and Beth Bronson?”

I wince and rub the back of my neck. “I forgot to ask, we should skim over the list and make sure first.”

“They’re in alphabetic order and I already checked, that’s why I asked.” Kathleen sighs. “This sucks. How would we even know if any of them makes a viable suspect?”

Pulling the laptop closer, I take a seat next to her and glance at the first name on the list. “We crosscheck and work our way through the list.”

Kathleen gets behind her desk and hands over some of the names to divide the task when she fires up her own computer. Hours pass and it’s way past dinnertime when I notice Kathleen yawn for the third time.

The woman has a work drive that puts everything second place, including her well-being. Checking the time, I shove the laptop shut and snag the papers away from her.

“Come on, we’re going upstairs. I’m going to fix us some food, we’ll discuss the case some more, and then you need sleep for a couple of hours. I don’t mean the kind where you fall asleep wherever you’re sitting, I mean in a bed, got it?”

She doesn’t take her eyes off the computer screen and waves me off. “Go upstairs and cook. I can work until you’re done.”

Stalking around the desk, I gently wrap my fingers around her upper arm and nudge her to move. “Let’s go. I’ll let you borrow my laptop so you can work upstairs. I’m not going to leave you in your office because you would just keep on working even if dinner is ready.”

She glares at me while muttering a few curses under her breath. At least she turns off her computer and follows me out of the office. Once upstairs I place the laptop on the kitchen table along with the papers and Kathleen dives right back in.

Kathleen sinks her teeth in anything that crosses her path, and I’m basically the same workaholic. Except, I also like to take some distance every now and then. My brain needs a breather to look at things with fresh eyes. It’s why I offered to make dinner. The bonus is feeding the woman I’m completely enthralled with ’cause she for damn sure doesn’t take care of herself with the basic necessities of food and sleep.

I layer some fresh mozzarella slices over the chicken breasts, add some parmesan, and put the dish into the oven. Kathleen is balancing her head in her hands and by the way her eyes keep falling shut? I’d say she’s completely fried. Closing the laptop, I reach out to take the papers and place them on top and carry it all into the living room.

When I stroll back into the kitchen Kathleen is stretching her arms above her head and yawns once again. “Dean found anything yet?”

I take my phone out of my pocket and place it on the kitchen table. “Nope, nothing.”

“Crazy how this case doesn’t even have the time to run cold with the dead bodies piling up, all while we have no freaking clue who the killer is.” Kathleen lets out a little growl. “I hate how the killer is three or four steps ahead of us every damn time.”

“That’s why we’re taking the rest of the night off and will get a good night’s sleep to dive back in with fresh eyes tomorrow morning.”

“I hate wasting time,” she grumbles.

Chuckling, I place my hands on her shoulders and gently rub at the tight knots in her muscles. “Recharging your body and mind isn’t wasting time, boss lady. It’s a valuable way to hit reset and go back at it with your full attention.”

“Less talk, more rubbing,” she groans. “Damn, that feels good.”

My cock hardens at the sound of those sexy as fuck moans falling from her lips. I want nothing more than to strip her naked and fuck her long and hard, but the woman is exhausted and never puts herself first. So, I’ll make damn sure I take care of her needs before my own.

I keep massaging her until the dish I made in the oven is ready. A groan of protest rips from her when my hands fall away.

“I’m all yours whenever you need a massage,” I promise her as I step away to get the oven mitts.

“Smells delicious,” she murmurs and jumps up to grab us some plates.

I made enough for both of us and we fall silent while we polish off all the parmesan chicken. Kathleen groans and leans back to rub her belly. Getting to my feet, I grab her empty plate and mine so I can rinse them.

“You cooked, I’m gonna do the dishes,” she states and bumps my hip as she takes the plates from me.

Liking her playful change in attitude I remark, “Remind me to massage and feed you on a regular basis.”

Snorting, she mutters something under her breath and it takes my brain a few seconds to catch up.

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