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.”