"Spindler, Erica - See Jane Die" - читать интересную книгу автора (Spindler Erica)

Stacy crossed to the bag and carefully thumbed through the contents. Lotions, creams, perfume. Lubricating jelly. Condoms. Vibrator. A couple of long silk scarves, probably for bondage games.

Definitely a girl who liked to have fun. And one who came ready for anything.

"I see Boy Scouts aren't the only ones who are always prepared," Mac said.

She glanced at Mac, annoyed that his thoughts so closely mirrored her own. He stood in the doorway, broad shoulders nearly filling the space. She frowned. "Is that a joke?"

"Gotta laugh or you'll cry, right?"

"So they tell me."

"You don't agree?"

Stacy motioned to the doorway. "I'd like to pass, please."

He hesitated, then stepped aside. As she slipped past, Mac caught her arm, stopping her. "You always have to be such a hard-ass, Killian?"

"Yeah," she said, looking pointedly at his hand. "You don't like it, request a change."

"I don't want aЧ" Mac bit the words back and removed his hand. "Fine, we'll play it your way."

Stacy exited the bathroom and crossed to the bed. She stopped beside it and gazed down at the vie. The woman was white. She was dressed for bedroom games: slinky black satin robe; black thong panties and bra; garter belt and stockings. The robe lay open; the killer had used the sash to strangle her. Her once-pretty face was congested with blood and dark red in color, her eyelids and lips speckled with petechiae, small hemorrhages caused by pressure on the blood vessels.

She appeared to have been thirtyish, though she could have been older. She looked to have been well maintained: skin smooth; hands manicured; nails painted a delicate frosted pink; hair stylishly cut and highlighted. Real classy. Even dead, the woman all but shouted wealth.

Stacy would expect no less from someone able to float two hundred-fifty bucks a night for a room.

"Party boobs," Mac offered, using a crude euphemism for breast implants.

Stacy nodded, accustomed to such talk, and moved closer to the bed. Opening her investigative notebook, she made a quick sketch of the scene. Mac, she knew, would have done one as well. On the sketch, she noted details, everything from those present to positioning of the body. She noted the time as well.

That complete, she looked at Mac. "What do we have so far?"

"Name was Elle Vanmeer. HousekeepingЧ"

"Her ID confirm that?"

"Yes, ma'am. Checked in under that name. Solo."

She pretended not to notice his irritation. "Go on."

"Housekeeper found her when she came to clean the room. Thought she'd checked out. She notified the G.M., he called it in."

"Purse? Wallet? Jewelry?"

"All accounted for. Plenty of cash in the wallet." He glanced at the woman, then back at Stacy. "Robbery wasn't a motive."

"No shit. She knew her killer. Trusted him. They'd planned to meet here. For sex, obviously."