Moving Target
He pulled tight around her throat, choking her.
He didn't say anything. He didn't have to.
Francesca Thorne was accustomed to gathering information from criminals in what wasn't said, whether it was through a look, a nervous tic despite attempts to mask such a giveaway, or simply a change in vocal pitch.
It was what an opponent did not say that aided in the patchwork of piecing together a personality. Her role was simply to watch. Observe. Filter the subtleties of the subconscious into her puzzle-solving mind.
Whereas she would normally calculate facial expressions and measure the pupil dilation of her suspect, waiting for a flinch to reveal so much more than well-selected words, the opportunity had not been given with this particular hunt.
Instead, she had to count on the sound of his breath, the weight of his grasp as he held one arm tightly around her neck, choke-holding her into submission with her back facing him, unable to meet his eyes.
He had snuck up on her.
Though she had returned to the scene to analyze its meaning, determine why the killer had chosen this location for his latest victim, Francesca had not been counting on his presence. Not yet.
His attack ha ... read full excerpt from: Moving Target ebook
