Excerpt of The Angel of Murder by Trisha Sugarek

At this time of night Stella was crossing the Brooklyn Bridge against the traffic. She had texted her partner, Detective Jack O’Roarke that she would meet him at the crime scene. The body of a child had been found in an abandoned building down by the Hudson River docks. Stella got on the FDR expressway and headed down-town.

It was dark and lonely on Albany Street but there was no mistaking the red and blue lights of the patrol cars sweeping the front of the old building. The reflection of klieg lights, that the CSI team had set up, glowed inside the fire damaged structure.

Stella parked and walked toward the crime tape. This is the part I don’t like; the surprise of what new atrocity one human being commits against another. And I already know it’s a child. Stella shook her head. I’d like to be anywhere but here doing what I know I have to do. Stella looked around at the parked vehicles. The ME and CSI are here. That’s O’Roarke’s car. Looks like I’m the last one to the party. Stella entered the building and was met by a patrol officer.

“Second floor, Detective.”

“Thanks.” Stella ran up the litter strewn steps and walked toward the lights.

"Hey, Stel’ you got here quick.” Jack O’Roarke grumbled.

Stella’s partner in Homicide for the past six years was this big, tough Irishman. They were foils for each other; playing good cop/bad cop very effectively. Stella’s sweet, quiet manner and O’Roarke’s tough, no nonsense approach was the perfect package. Because of that and the fact that they were skilled, seasoned cops they cleared a lot of cases.

“Yeah, traffic was light on the bridge.”

Under the lights, Ruby Crutchner, ME knelt by a small form. She was intent on her examination but was being incredibly gentle. She moved aside for a moment and Stella had a clear view of the victim.

“Sweet Christ.” She breathed.

Laid out on what appeared to be a clear plastic shower curtain was a small girl, dressed in a white, communion dress. Her hands were folded and holding wilted white lilies. She might have been asleep if not for the bluish pale skin. Her blonde hair was fanned out like a halo. Her tiny, perfect bare feet were too vulnerable for words and Stella’s eyes filled with tears.

"Do you have a cause of death, Ruby” Stella asked, swallowing her tears whole.

“Not officially. But I’m pretty certain it’s strangulation.” Ruby did not look up.

O’Roarke rubbed his face with his hands. “No ID, of course, but you can bet this is one of those missing girls.”

Stella spoke in a whisper. “We got an ID, Jack. She’s Brittany James. She goes to the same day care as RJ.”

“Shit! You know her?”

“Only that she was one of RJ’s friends.”

“And it looks like we got us a ritual killer. Goddamn I hate when that happens.”