Loves Redemption Kimberly Terry (i can read books TXT) 📖

whistle he answered, “Man, take all the time you need. How does she know the victim anyway?

She doesn’t look as though they were ‘colleagues,’ know what I mean?” Once again, his partner glanced over at Maya.

“They weren’t. From what I understand they were foster sisters. Probably grew up in a

group home together somewhere. I think that’s where the similarities end. I just met her in the lieutenant’s office, so I’m not sure of all the details myself. After she’s identified the body, I’ll ask her a few questions and go from there. I’m not sure what time I’ll make it back in, so don’t wait around for me.”

“Later on, partner,” Jordan answered. Mark walked back toward Maya and together they

left the squad room.

After they reached the elevator, he motioned for her to precede him, following closely

behind her. Once inside, he punched the button for the basement-parking garage.

“I’m assuming a uniform came to pick you up?” He asked, as they silently rode the

elevator to the garage.

“Yes. I was at Imani House when I called the station. It was a relief they came to pick me

up. I don’t think I’m in a frame of mind to drive right now.”

They were the only two occupants in the slow-moving elevator, and when it came to a

lurching halt, Maya fell against his chest, and he immediately wrapped his arms around her waist to steady her.

“I’m sorry,” she apologized, and tried to move away from his light hold. Mark tightened

his clasp on her body fractionally before allowing her to step away from him. When she darted her eyes in his direction, he hoped she wouldn’t look down and see his body’s reaction to the small contact.

As the elevator made it to the basement level, he led her to his late model Expedition. He

opened the back hatch and threw in his gym bag after helping her into the passenger side.

He felt guilty over how he was handling his attraction to her. He knew she was terribly

upset and worried. He knew it, felt guilty as hell about it, but couldn’t stop himself from crowding her. “Dr. Richardson, when we’re through with everything, where did you want me to take you?” he asked, seeking more neutral ground.

“Detective, please call me Maya. I was working when the officers arrived to take me to

the precinct. I’m the director of Imani House. Are you familiar with it?”

“Please call me Mark. Yes, in answer to your question. Isn’t it the halfway house for ex

hookers--uh sorry, for former prostitutes?” he covered, maneuvering out of the parking garage and into traffic.

As she settled against the soft leather seat, he caught the sidelong glance she threw his

way, before she answered. “Actually, there’s more to it than that. We have a variety of programs, mainly designed for women to help them transition from prostitution to a more stable way of life.”

“Sorry if I offended you. It sounds like a great place for them to go when they want to get off the streets and get their lives together.” He backtracked, smoothly recovering from his gaffe.

He then drove the short distance from the downtown precinct to the hospital.

After pulling into the underground lot of the hospital, Mark found a space to park.

Turning off the ignition, he turned in his seat toward her. A curl had escaped her tight braid, and he barely resisted the urge to tuck it back behind her ear.

“The coroner is expecting us. Are you ready?”

“Yes. I may as well get this over with. Maybe it isn’t Ally after all.” She waited for him

to come around to the passenger side and allowed him to open her door.

They walked the short distance to the entry before Mark stopped short and turned her

around to face him. “I don’t know if you’ve ever seen a dead body or not. With this possibly being your foster sister, it’s going to be a shock, so take a deep breath, and I’ll be right there with you.”

He saw the fortifying breath she took, as she straightened her shoulders, before with a

silent nod, she allowed him to lead her into the morgue.

Not until the attendant had drawn back the white sheet did Maya glance down, and when

she did, her body bowed over in obvious pain.

“Oh my God, oh my God, it … it’s her, that’s Ally,” she told him, covering her face with

her hands.

After motioning to the attendant to close the drawer, Mark moved closer to her and

encircled her shoulders with his arm, turning her away from the sight and out of the room.

Her golden brown complexion had a distinct greenish tinge to it. The eyes staring up into

his were large and dilated. The distant hint of blood vessels near the surface of her skin stood out in stark relief against her complexion.

Once outside the doors, he turned her fully into his arms, as uncontrollable sobs racked

her small body.

“Are you okay? I know that was hard to see. Would you like to sit down for a minute?”

He had known this woman for less than a few hours, yet it was tearing at his heart to see her cry so hard. As she cried, the only thing he could offer was the comfort of his arms around her body.

He rubbed her back and whispered soothing words, allowing her to cry until he felt her body calm down, and the sobbing wane to an occasional sniff.

Without her asking, he offered his last remaining Kleenex and watched as she wiped her

face and eased her body away from his embrace.

“Thank you, Detective, but I’m okay. If it’s all right, could we go now?”

“Of course. We don’t have to go back to the precinct. There’s a coffee shop nearby where

we could talk. A little less formal, but we’ll still get the job done.” He told her and they left the morgue and walked back