Free Kill and Run (A Thorny Rose Mystery Book 1) by Lauren Carr Page B

short time assigned to the staff, Hillary Koch had made no attempt to hide her dislike for the navy officer with snide remarks or agitated facial expressions—not the least of which included juvenile eye rolls—about or even directed right at his “precious” United States Navy. Every attempt she made to bait him into a debate went without so much as a nibble. After months of her lust for blood going without satisfaction, she was itching for battle. All she needed was an excuse.
    The news from the medical examiner gave her that excuse.
    As soon as Murphy stepped through the security door leading into the NCIS staff, Hillary initiated her ambush from the doorway of her office.
    After letting loose with a long string of swear words, which included her favorite obscenity—the f-word, or variations and synonyms of it—with an occasional upping of the ante by preceding it with “mother”—inserted at every possible interjection, she arrived to the catalyst for her fit:
    “Who the hell do you think you are, Lieutenant Thornton, taking on a multiple murder case involving five women—four who aren’t connected to the navy or marines?”
    As if the cursing that had preceded her outburst was not enough to communicate her fury, she let loose with another stream of profanity.
    Usually, when such battles broke out, the agents would scurry for cover, not wanting to further humiliate Hillary Koch’s latest victim with an audience to the annihilation. This time, the intensity and the one on the receiving end—the navy’s golden boy of the hour—made it just too juicy to ignore sneaking a peek.
    Without uttering a word in his defense, Murphy sauntered across the outer office to where Hillary Koch stood with her hands on her expansive hips. Between her blazing temper and extensive use of oxygen in her fit, her doughy face was red. Her nostrils flared.
    Wordlessly, he regarded her. While every agent, clerk, and assistant held his or her breath, he studied her unattractive face with his blue eyes. Finally, he responded in a voice so low and smooth that it melted in the mouth of every woman on the staff. “As flattered as I am that you want to have sex with me—it ain’t gonna happen.”
    Knocking over her soft drink, Wendy jumped up from behind her desk and scrambled for paper towels to mop up the mess.
    Bursting into laughter, Special Agent Susan Archer covered her mouth and ducked into her cubicle.
    Hillary Koch’s eyes bugged.
    “I mean,” Murphy continued with surprising calm, “a woman as well educated as yourself should know that the definition for the f-word is sexual intercourse. Clearly, you must know it very well since you’ve directed it and variations of it at me twenty-four times since I entered the office less than one minute ago.”
    Her mouth dropped open.
    The corners of his lips curling, Murphy winked at her. “I’m sure you heard of Sigmund Freud and his hypothesis about the human subconscious. The ‘Freudian slip.’ Obviously, you’ve gotten so hot and heavy for my body that you couldn’t stand it anymore and had to scream all the way across this office your intention to have sex with me.”
    Hillary’s chest was heaving.
    “Unfortunately for you,” he said, “one,—” he held up his left hand to show off his wedding band. “I’m married. Two,” The grin on his face dropped, “I’d rather spend an evening being water boarded by ISIS than touch you.”
    Seemingly oblivious to the audience, Murphy moved in closer to Hillary Koch. “As far as the case goes, when you get a grip and are ready to discuss it like an adult, I’ll be in a meeting with Deputy Chief Hamilton and agents Archer and Latimore.”
    Over his shoulder, Murphy gestured at Boris Hamilton and the two agents. “My office in five minutes. We have the murders of five women to solve.”
    To Hillary Koch’s surprise, her deputy chief and the two agents didn’t wait. They immediately fell in behind Murphy.
    “You have no