Authors in the Spotlight
Book Title: BEG FOR MERCY
Cole started to introduce himself as Megan turned to face him. “I'm -” he stopped short, his dark eyes widening, his body visibly jolting with shock. “Megan?” His hand twitched as though about to reach for her, but he regained his composure almost immediately. All emotion fled and his eyes got that flat, dead, cop look that never failed to unnerve her.
Waves of hot and cold shuddered through Megan as she attempted to follow Cole's lead.
“Hello, Detective Williams.” Her voice trembled a little. It wasn't every night she was called to the scene of a gruesome murder.
Confronted with the man who, after all this time, everything he'd put her through, still had the power to make her knees shake a little every time she looked at him. It seemed impossible that he should still have this effect on her. He'd put her brother in jail for Christ's sake, hadn't lifted a finger when she'd asked – no, begged – for his help. Then when their relationship had been exposed in the press, Cole had told reporters his feelings for Megan weren't serious, certainly not serious enough to interfere with his job. Which took priority over everything.
Yet she took one look at that hard, chiseled face, that rangy, broad shouldered body, those big, long fingered hands, and her stomach did a completely irrational adolescent flip flop.
“You know him?” Dev whispered.
“Yeah, we go way back,” Megan replied, proud of the way her tone sharpened, happy to feel the fresh burst of anger in her chest chase away the rest.
Something flashed on his face – regret? Then it was gone as his gaze shifted from her to Dev. “I understand you called Miss Flynn after you found the victim?”
Dev's gaze flicked anxiously to Megan, who gave her an encouraging nod. “Yeah,” Dev said softly. “She told me to call the police.”
Cole's full mouth pulled into a half smile. “Smart woman.” He started to say something, then paused as the trailer door opened behind him.
“This is my partner, Detective Olivia Petersen,” Cole said. “Petersen, this Megan Flynn and Devany Sinclair.”
With her tall, athletic body, short blond hair and cleanly sculpted features, Detective Petersen looked like some kind of Nordic goddess of war. Her eyes did the cop sweep around the room, taking in every detail.
“You found the victim, correct?” she asked Dev.
“And who are you again?” She asked Megan, who tried not to bristle at the woman's sharp, businesslike tone.
“I'm Dev's court appointed advocate.”
Detective Petersen' perfectly arched brows knitted into a frown. “Why is your name so familiar?”
Megan fought not to squirm as the woman's blue stare pierced her. “Most likely because my brother Sean is on death row and recently waived his right to appeals,” she said, her voice flat and emotionless. “His name is in the press lately because in three weeks he'll be the first person executed by Washington state in over a decade.”