Read Online Rausch & Donlon - Can Be Murder 02 - Love Can Be Murder by Marilyn Rausch, Mary Donlon - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Marilyn Rausch, Mary Donlon
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hope you like living here.”
In the glow of the lights in front of the Capitol, Jo saw a shadow pass across the detective’s features. “As long as my family is all together, that’s the important thing.” As Jo stepped out of the car, he leaned over and said, “I’ll give you a call tomorrow when the autopsy is set up.”
“Sounds good. Night, Frisco.”
Jo started up her SUV and headed north out of St. Paul, working her way to the highway. Dinner with Frisco had been a welcome respite, but now she was itching to get back to work. Even though it was past normal working hours, she knew a case this big would fill many of the FBI headquarter offices until late into the evening.
As she entered the west-bound lanes of I-694, she said to herself, “I really should call John now, while I’ve got a moment.” But dread and, if she were being honest, fear kept her from plugging in her Bluetooth. What do I say to him? I can’t tell him to drop everything and move here, and I would have a hard time starting over there.
She kept thinking about Frisco and his move to St. Paul. She sensed he wasn’t thrilled with the relocation, but was making the best of it.
On the other hand, as difficult as her job could be and as much as she hated all the bureaucracy, she genuinely loved what she did for a living. It gave her an energy that went way beyond anything else she’d ever known. Except John.
I need to stop thinking about how I was supposed to be in Baltimore right now. She spoke out loud, “I’m making myself crazy.” Jo clicked on the radio. Adele’s “Rolling in the Deep” filled the interior with powerful, bluesy notes and her mind eased back into thinking about the case. Even as a child, Jo loved solving riddles and puzzles. She thrived on following leads, even if they sometimes led to dead-ends. There was a method to it all; a systematical search for the truth.
Maybe that’s the frustrating thing about relationships. Romantic connections with other human beings usually didn’t have a right or wrong answer. There was nothing methodical about them. They were messy.
The highway miles drifted by as she plotted out what she’d like to accomplish tonight in the office. Tomorrow would be a crazy day, and if she planned ahead tonight, she could hit the ground running.
Jo passed through the high palisade fence surrounding the newly built FBI building in Brooklyn Center, a northern suburb of Minneapolis. She pulled out her identification card to show the security guard on duty and then proceeded up the ramp into the parking structure.
From the outside, the headquarters looked like the other sleek, modern office buildings in the Twin Cities area. However, a closer look revealed a state-of-the art building, including a screening area for visitors, blast-proof glass, a reinforced structure, and a closed-circuit television security system.
She pulled out her gun and placed it in the basket before she walked through the metal detectors. Jo smiled at Dan, one of the night guards.
“Late night, Agent Schwann?”
“Yeah, well. All in a day’s work. I hear your retirement party is scheduled for next Thursday. I’m looking forward to it.”
“Me, too. Gonna be hard adjusting to sleeping at night again after all these years. Don’t work too hard,” he said as Jo retrieved her weapon.
“Thanks, Dan, you too.” She took the stairs two at a time to the third level and stepped onto her floor, gaining entry by waving her ID card over the panel to the right of the door. The new carpet muted her footsteps as she walked across the large room to her cubicle. Just as she removed her suit jacket and hung it on the back of her chair, she heard Tom Gunderson, her supervisor, call out to her.
“Schwann. What have you got so far?”
Jo stepped into his office and settled into the chair across the desk from her boss. “Good evening to you, too, Tom.”
He had the decency to look abashed at his lack of social niceties.
In the glow of the lights in front of the Capitol, Jo saw a shadow pass across the detective’s features. “As long as my family is all together, that’s the important thing.” As Jo stepped out of the car, he leaned over and said, “I’ll give you a call tomorrow when the autopsy is set up.”
“Sounds good. Night, Frisco.”
Jo started up her SUV and headed north out of St. Paul, working her way to the highway. Dinner with Frisco had been a welcome respite, but now she was itching to get back to work. Even though it was past normal working hours, she knew a case this big would fill many of the FBI headquarter offices until late into the evening.
As she entered the west-bound lanes of I-694, she said to herself, “I really should call John now, while I’ve got a moment.” But dread and, if she were being honest, fear kept her from plugging in her Bluetooth. What do I say to him? I can’t tell him to drop everything and move here, and I would have a hard time starting over there.
She kept thinking about Frisco and his move to St. Paul. She sensed he wasn’t thrilled with the relocation, but was making the best of it.
On the other hand, as difficult as her job could be and as much as she hated all the bureaucracy, she genuinely loved what she did for a living. It gave her an energy that went way beyond anything else she’d ever known. Except John.
I need to stop thinking about how I was supposed to be in Baltimore right now. She spoke out loud, “I’m making myself crazy.” Jo clicked on the radio. Adele’s “Rolling in the Deep” filled the interior with powerful, bluesy notes and her mind eased back into thinking about the case. Even as a child, Jo loved solving riddles and puzzles. She thrived on following leads, even if they sometimes led to dead-ends. There was a method to it all; a systematical search for the truth.
Maybe that’s the frustrating thing about relationships. Romantic connections with other human beings usually didn’t have a right or wrong answer. There was nothing methodical about them. They were messy.
The highway miles drifted by as she plotted out what she’d like to accomplish tonight in the office. Tomorrow would be a crazy day, and if she planned ahead tonight, she could hit the ground running.
Jo passed through the high palisade fence surrounding the newly built FBI building in Brooklyn Center, a northern suburb of Minneapolis. She pulled out her identification card to show the security guard on duty and then proceeded up the ramp into the parking structure.
From the outside, the headquarters looked like the other sleek, modern office buildings in the Twin Cities area. However, a closer look revealed a state-of-the art building, including a screening area for visitors, blast-proof glass, a reinforced structure, and a closed-circuit television security system.
She pulled out her gun and placed it in the basket before she walked through the metal detectors. Jo smiled at Dan, one of the night guards.
“Late night, Agent Schwann?”
“Yeah, well. All in a day’s work. I hear your retirement party is scheduled for next Thursday. I’m looking forward to it.”
“Me, too. Gonna be hard adjusting to sleeping at night again after all these years. Don’t work too hard,” he said as Jo retrieved her weapon.
“Thanks, Dan, you too.” She took the stairs two at a time to the third level and stepped onto her floor, gaining entry by waving her ID card over the panel to the right of the door. The new carpet muted her footsteps as she walked across the large room to her cubicle. Just as she removed her suit jacket and hung it on the back of her chair, she heard Tom Gunderson, her supervisor, call out to her.
“Schwann. What have you got so far?”
Jo stepped into his office and settled into the chair across the desk from her boss. “Good evening to you, too, Tom.”
He had the decency to look abashed at his lack of social niceties.
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