Face Off by Emma Brookes Page A

the anointing of the damned. His forehead. I’ll just need to touch his forehead long enough to make the sign of the cross.”
    â€œAll right,” Harry said, giving in to her easily. “Jena, see that—” He turned to Suzanne. “What was your name?”
    â€œSister Mary Elizabeth.”
    â€œJena, see that Sister Mary Elizabeth has a few minutes with Clark.” He reached out and took Suzanne’s hand in his own large one. “It was nice to meet you, Sister. Why don’t you wait in Chief Caswell’s office while Jena arranges things?”
    Suzanne entered the office, puzzling over her handshake with the handsome detective. Why hadn’t she picked up a reading from him? Rarely did she ever come in physical contact with someone without immediately knowing more about the person than she had any right to know. It had all but killed her love life. Yet she hadn’t received anything from this man.
    Outside in the hall, Harry motioned for Jena and Jim to follow him farther away from the closed door.
    â€œSet up a tape recorder before you bring the two of them together. I don’t know who the beauty in the black habit is, but she sure as hell isn’t a nun.”
    â€œHow so?” asked Jim.
    â€œFor one thing, there is a faint smell of tobacco about her, and that deep, husky voice sure sounds like a smoker to me. But for clinchers, I know for damn sure that there is no such thing as the anointing of the damned. She just said the first thing that popped into her head when she learned there would be a glass partition between her and Clark. So just play along and see what she wants. But keep a close eye on her and search Clark the minute she leaves. For some reason, she wants to be physically close to Clark. Find out why, then hold her here until we get back. Oh, and you’d better make sure she doesn’t have any weapons on her.”
    Jena raised perfectly arched eyebrows at Harry. “And just how would you suggest I do that?”
    â€œSend her through the metal detector, officer,” Jim interrupted. “Just go through yourself, and she will follow. She doesn’t need to know a thing.”
    *   *   *
    The instant Officer Karnitz took her by the arm to guide her into the meeting with Clark, Suzanne knew she was in trouble. The young woman’s thoughts were a jumble of wondering who the woman in the nun’s habit really was, if someone named Harry was ever going to ask her out, and what she was going to say to the nun to keep her at the police station.
    Damn, Suzanne thought wildly. They plan on keeping me here when I finish with Clark!
    She followed the officer into a room where a man sat alone at a table, his hands and feet cuffed. Two police officers stood by each of the doors.
    The first thing that struck Suzanne was how ordinary the man looked. He wasn’t anyone she would have even noticed in a crowd. His features were fine, but his complexion suggested he spent a lot of time out of doors. It was ruddy, lined, and weathered. There was nothing on his face to suggest he was a killer who had slaughtered God knows how many young girls, scattering their bodies across the city. He was someone Suzanne would have stopped on the street to ask directions of, or spoken to in a grocery line.
    Clark’s eyes moved lazily in her direction, looking her up and down. The bright blue of his eyes startled her. Brown eyes would have fit his face better. Somehow the blueness unnerved her, making her look away.
    â€œYou may sit there across from him if you like, Sister,” Officer Karnitz said. “We’ll give you ten minutes, that’s all.”
    Suzanne bowed her head slightly at the officer. “Thank you.” She began walking toward Clark, trying to avoid his eyes. She pulled out a chair and sat down, then reached across the table and put her hand on his arm. “Bless you, my child.”
    The minute