Read Online An Apple for Zoë ~ The Forsaken by Thomas Amo - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Thomas Amo
Tags: Fiction, Occult & Supernatural
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mean I'm not the guy's social secretary. But yeah, I've seen the same women in here more than once."
"Think you would remember any of them if you saw them again?"
"Sure. I think so," said Grantham.
"Then I'd like to ask you if you recognize the woman inside room 1219."
Grantham hesitated. "Do I have to?" he asked.
Kirkland put his hand on the manager's shoulder. "It would be a huge help to us all if you did." Grantham nodded and stepped inside the room.
"Now, just try to relax, she's going to be laying on the bed. Try to just look at her face okay?" stated Kirkland.
Stepping round the corner, Grantham froze momentarily as he saw the dead girl. His eyes went immediately to the Coke bottle.
"Oh my God."
"It's okay. Ignore that. Just look at her face," said James.
Stepping closer Grantham attempted to adjust his eyes as James flashed the beam of light on her face. Both Kirkland and James watched Grantham. In an instant they could tell from his reaction he recognized her.
"Who is she?" asked James.
Without warning Grantham began to shake and shoved Kirkland aside, running for the door. James quickly pulled his gun from the holster and ran in pursuit. Rising to his feet Kirkland followed.
"Richard, stop!"
"Mr. Grantham, don't run!" called Kirkland.
Grantham continued into the hallway and fell to his knees. Doubled over he began to throw up. James turned his head away trying to give the manager as much privacy as possible in what was, at best, an embarrassing moment. Wiping his mouth with the back of his shirtsleeve, Grantham tried to pull himself together. "I'm sorry, Inspector James."
"You scared us," said James as he replaced his gun.
Kirkland knelt down next to Grantham. "Was it one of the girls?"
Grantham shook his head no. "No it wasn't," he said as he tried to regain his composure.
"But you know her?"
Grantham nodded. "Yeah, she's my girlfriend's kid sister."
"What's her name?"
"Valerie Rivera."
CHAPTER EIGHT
Valerie Rivera
Kirkland and Grantham waited just inside the lobby entrance for Jessalee Rivera and her evidence crew to arrive while James stood guard over the crime scene twelve floors above them. Kirkland stared into space as Grantham paced back and forth mumbling to himself about how bad for business this would be.
"Would you stop pacing, you're making me dizzy," snapped Kirkland.
"Do you know how many people are dead in here detective?" shouted Grantham at Kirkland's seemingly disrespect, followed by an immediate apology. "Sorry, I didn't mean it, I just don't know what to say to Jessalee."
"You're not going to have to say anything. I will tell her," said Kirkland.
Kirkland hated to give a death notification. It was always hard and even worse when it's one of your own he thought. That was the one thing all cops agree on, you never get used to it. Standing at a stranger's door in the middle of the night. Ringing the bell. The porch light clicks on. A single mom, looking weary and overworked, peeks from behind the porch window. Housecoat and her hair in curlers, years of worry carved into her features, she knows something is wrong. The bad news comes. She swears she has misunderstood what the officer has said. Her hand covers her mouth. Her chin shakes and quivers, then the silent scream and finally the breakdown begins.
"Here she is," said Grantham as he nudged Kirkland. Kirkland forced a smile as he saw Jessalee approaching, he swallowed hard and cleared his throat as he began to walk towards her with Grantham following close behind.
Kirkland had always thought Jessalee Rivera was a very attractive woman. He always had noticed her. She was tall with brown eyes and a skin tone that easily tanned during the warm days of San Francisco. Her hair was always in a ponytail. Kirkland longed to see it completely down and free. Today, her hair was black. Kirkland could have sworn yesterday it was brown with hues of purple in it. Like a chameleon, Jessalee always seemed to
"Think you would remember any of them if you saw them again?"
"Sure. I think so," said Grantham.
"Then I'd like to ask you if you recognize the woman inside room 1219."
Grantham hesitated. "Do I have to?" he asked.
Kirkland put his hand on the manager's shoulder. "It would be a huge help to us all if you did." Grantham nodded and stepped inside the room.
"Now, just try to relax, she's going to be laying on the bed. Try to just look at her face okay?" stated Kirkland.
Stepping round the corner, Grantham froze momentarily as he saw the dead girl. His eyes went immediately to the Coke bottle.
"Oh my God."
"It's okay. Ignore that. Just look at her face," said James.
Stepping closer Grantham attempted to adjust his eyes as James flashed the beam of light on her face. Both Kirkland and James watched Grantham. In an instant they could tell from his reaction he recognized her.
"Who is she?" asked James.
Without warning Grantham began to shake and shoved Kirkland aside, running for the door. James quickly pulled his gun from the holster and ran in pursuit. Rising to his feet Kirkland followed.
"Richard, stop!"
"Mr. Grantham, don't run!" called Kirkland.
Grantham continued into the hallway and fell to his knees. Doubled over he began to throw up. James turned his head away trying to give the manager as much privacy as possible in what was, at best, an embarrassing moment. Wiping his mouth with the back of his shirtsleeve, Grantham tried to pull himself together. "I'm sorry, Inspector James."
"You scared us," said James as he replaced his gun.
Kirkland knelt down next to Grantham. "Was it one of the girls?"
Grantham shook his head no. "No it wasn't," he said as he tried to regain his composure.
"But you know her?"
Grantham nodded. "Yeah, she's my girlfriend's kid sister."
"What's her name?"
"Valerie Rivera."
CHAPTER EIGHT
Valerie Rivera
Kirkland and Grantham waited just inside the lobby entrance for Jessalee Rivera and her evidence crew to arrive while James stood guard over the crime scene twelve floors above them. Kirkland stared into space as Grantham paced back and forth mumbling to himself about how bad for business this would be.
"Would you stop pacing, you're making me dizzy," snapped Kirkland.
"Do you know how many people are dead in here detective?" shouted Grantham at Kirkland's seemingly disrespect, followed by an immediate apology. "Sorry, I didn't mean it, I just don't know what to say to Jessalee."
"You're not going to have to say anything. I will tell her," said Kirkland.
Kirkland hated to give a death notification. It was always hard and even worse when it's one of your own he thought. That was the one thing all cops agree on, you never get used to it. Standing at a stranger's door in the middle of the night. Ringing the bell. The porch light clicks on. A single mom, looking weary and overworked, peeks from behind the porch window. Housecoat and her hair in curlers, years of worry carved into her features, she knows something is wrong. The bad news comes. She swears she has misunderstood what the officer has said. Her hand covers her mouth. Her chin shakes and quivers, then the silent scream and finally the breakdown begins.
"Here she is," said Grantham as he nudged Kirkland. Kirkland forced a smile as he saw Jessalee approaching, he swallowed hard and cleared his throat as he began to walk towards her with Grantham following close behind.
Kirkland had always thought Jessalee Rivera was a very attractive woman. He always had noticed her. She was tall with brown eyes and a skin tone that easily tanned during the warm days of San Francisco. Her hair was always in a ponytail. Kirkland longed to see it completely down and free. Today, her hair was black. Kirkland could have sworn yesterday it was brown with hues of purple in it. Like a chameleon, Jessalee always seemed to
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