Read Online Alien Heat by Lynn Hightower - Free Book Online Page A

brown, and David felt an odd pang. She ate all of the crust before she took another piece of pizza. Frugal, David thought. She passed him another beer. It still tasted bad, but he wasn’t minding it.
    â€œPretty bad fire you had. Sorry we intruded in the middle. I tried to get Jenks to wait a day, but he’s not the kind of man—”
    â€œHe’s not the kind of man who waits.”
    â€œNice of you to finish my sentence for me, Detective, but I can do it myself, no trouble.”
    â€œTell me about yourself, Ms. Blake.”
    She rocked from side to side in her chair. “Like what?”
    â€œHistory. Born?”
    â€œFlatwoods, Tennessee. I know, you never heard of it.”
    â€œAge?”
    â€œThirty-two.”
    â€œYou look twenty-two.”
    â€œYou don’t.”
    He smiled at her. It was cute, her trying to get under his skin. He’d survived worse. “Married?”
    â€œNo, thanks.”
    â€œBrothers? Sisters? The seventh child of a seventh child?”
    â€œTwo. Brother is dead. Sister isn’t.”
    â€œSorry.”
    She rolled her head one way, then another. Grimaced. “Thank you.”
    â€œParents alive?” He saw that there was pizza sauce on her chin. He fought the urge to wipe it off with a napkin.
    â€œMy mama.”
    â€œPlace of residence?”
    â€œFlatwoods, I told you.”
    â€œStill there, huh? How did you connect with Jenks?”
    She tilted her head to one side. “Guy named Bruer, Chicago Police Department. We’ve worked together before.”
    That surprised him. She even had Chicago fooled. Unless she was the genuine article.
    Not possible, he thought.
    â€œWhere were you born, Detective?” A piece of cheese slid off the pizza onto her lap. She picked it up and ate it, then scrubbed at the spot of grease on her jeans with a balled-up napkin.
    â€œChicago, actually,” David said.
    â€œBrothers or sisters?”
    â€œOnly child.”
    â€œParents alive?”
    David knew his face was red. “I think—”
    â€œMarried, I guess.” She pointed at the wedding band. “You look like a daddy. Seven kids, I’m guessing.”
    â€œThree.”
    â€œSexes?”
    â€œAll girls.”
    â€œYou find your lizard?”
    He shook his head.
    â€œSorry I teased you about it. That was mean. I’m like that sometimes.”
    â€œMean?”
    She gave him a sideways look and a guarded smile. The brown, sun-warmed skin was oddly erotic.
    He settled back in his chair. “Didn’t your mother ever tell you that too much sun is bad for you?”
    â€œEvery day of my life. I have a garden, I like to be out in it.”
    â€œFlowers?”
    â€œVegetables.”
    The woman was practical. David thought of his own garden, wild and untended. “You can do garden work at night or in the morning, like regular people.”
    â€œI like the heat.”
    â€œI don’t,” David said.
    â€œIn Flatwoods, all we got is heat. You learn to like it.”
    â€œDo you still think Theresa Jenks is dead? Ms. Blake?”
    Her smile faded. She put the half-eaten slice of pizza back in the box and wiped her hands on a grease-spotted napkin, smoothing the wad of paper on her knee.
    â€œIf you’re feeling friendly, Detective, you can call me Teddy, or even Ted. My friends do. Otherwise call me Ms. Blake, but in a different tone of voice. Be respectful. I don’t like it when people say my name like it’s an obscenity.”
    Her gaze was steady.
    â€œMs. Blake.” He said it respectfully, wondering if she was looking for time to collect her thoughts. “Do you still think Theresa Jenks is dead?”
    She stood up, turned off the TV. The blank screen was huge, grey, and depressing. It demanded attention, but gave nothing back.
    â€œNo, Detective, I don’t think Theresa Jenks is dead, I know she is.”
    â€œHow did she die?”
    Teddy