Read Online Angel Food and Devil Dogs by Liz Bradbury - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Liz Bradbury
Tags: Fiction, Romance, Literature & Fiction, Mystery, Gay & Lesbian, Mystery; Thriller & Suspense, Lesbian
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I jolted back. My stepmother was always full of surprises.
"Yeah, spur of the moment trip, two days ago."
"Well, I guess I don't have to worry about her hearing about the fire on the radio... yawn ." By now I could barely stand, I really needed to go to bed.
"Right." Then Sara said with sincere concern, "Are you sure you're OK, querida?"
"Uh huh, just sleepy... coming off an adrenalin high. Have you... yawn ... done anything about Mickey?" Huge yawn .
"I'm working through the arguments for his arraignment, yawn, geez Maggie, you're making me yawn! Go to bed querida, I'll talk to you tomorrow."
I went into the bathroom and noticed it smelled a little like a pile of used burning tires. The odor came from the shoes I'd left on the floor. I put my shoes in the trash bag I'd thrown my stinking clothes in and carried it downstairs to the curb. It was bitterly cold. The dark sky was cloudless. I looked up at the stars for a minute and took a deep breath of arctic air, which did nothing to cure my exhaustion. My smoky lungs ached. I made a wish on one of the stars. I always do that when I take the garbage out. I went back upstairs and stumbled into bed. I fell asleep immediately and slept for five hours. Then, I was suddenly wide-awake and very hungry. I got up and made a peanut butter and jelly sandwich and ate it at the kitchen table looking out the windows over the Mews. Going over the day, I tried to remember each thing that happened before the explosion.
I thought about Carl Rasmus falling six stories through freezing December air to the cold hard sidewalk.
I went back to bed. On the edge of a dream I could hear Dr. Kathryn Anthony's alluring voice. I just barely sensed her handshake again.
Chapter 5
When my alarm went off at 7:30 AM, I was stiff and sore and my lungs hurt when I took a deep breath. I took another shower because my hair still smelled like burning tires, albeit new burning tires. After the shower, I seemed to be stink free. I wore Nikes because my work shoes were now in a landfill somewhere and my leather jacket because my parka was undoubtedly a melted stink sponge, unfit for human use. I also brought along my 9 mm Berretta. I don't always carry a gun. It's too easy to kill people with them. However, my profession requires heat. I have licenses and as a matter of fact, I'm a good shot. I got a medal for marksmanship when I was on the force. Whether the explosion at Irwin yesterday was an accident or not, I was packing a burner.
Miranda Juarez waved me to a seat when I arrived to interview her at 9:00 AM. She was using Bart Edgar's office because Edgar was still in the hospital. Miranda was on the phone.
" Si bueno, pero es importante que tu vayas a las classes todos los días, hijito... Si, mañana. Si, para la cena. Hasta mas tarde, querido."
She was speaking to a child, probably her grandson, telling him he had to go to school every day and that she would be having dinner with him soon. From her tone, she obviously loved this child very much. She hung up.
"I'm glad you're here Ms. Gale. The President wanted me to give you this as soon as you came in." She handed me a small piece of paper. It said Daniel Cohen had been speaking at a conference in Virginia during the time Carl Rasmus died. Bouchet was letting me know that if Carl was indeed pushed, Professor Daniel Cohen had an alibi.
"This is Bart Edgar's office. I dislike not being in my own." Miranda gestured at the papers in the corner. "Those were on his desk. I feel guilty just moving everything to the floor, but I will go through all the papers and get them in order."
I opened my mouth to make a comment but she sighed, "Please do not say that you are sure I will be able to straighten out all of Bart's..." she waved over at the papers. "You will be the sixth person to have done so this morning."
I nodded sympathetically, "Bart does seem to have... issues. Anything new on his or Georgia Smith's condition?"
"First, I must tell you that Dr.
"Yeah, spur of the moment trip, two days ago."
"Well, I guess I don't have to worry about her hearing about the fire on the radio... yawn ." By now I could barely stand, I really needed to go to bed.
"Right." Then Sara said with sincere concern, "Are you sure you're OK, querida?"
"Uh huh, just sleepy... coming off an adrenalin high. Have you... yawn ... done anything about Mickey?" Huge yawn .
"I'm working through the arguments for his arraignment, yawn, geez Maggie, you're making me yawn! Go to bed querida, I'll talk to you tomorrow."
I went into the bathroom and noticed it smelled a little like a pile of used burning tires. The odor came from the shoes I'd left on the floor. I put my shoes in the trash bag I'd thrown my stinking clothes in and carried it downstairs to the curb. It was bitterly cold. The dark sky was cloudless. I looked up at the stars for a minute and took a deep breath of arctic air, which did nothing to cure my exhaustion. My smoky lungs ached. I made a wish on one of the stars. I always do that when I take the garbage out. I went back upstairs and stumbled into bed. I fell asleep immediately and slept for five hours. Then, I was suddenly wide-awake and very hungry. I got up and made a peanut butter and jelly sandwich and ate it at the kitchen table looking out the windows over the Mews. Going over the day, I tried to remember each thing that happened before the explosion.
I thought about Carl Rasmus falling six stories through freezing December air to the cold hard sidewalk.
I went back to bed. On the edge of a dream I could hear Dr. Kathryn Anthony's alluring voice. I just barely sensed her handshake again.
Chapter 5
When my alarm went off at 7:30 AM, I was stiff and sore and my lungs hurt when I took a deep breath. I took another shower because my hair still smelled like burning tires, albeit new burning tires. After the shower, I seemed to be stink free. I wore Nikes because my work shoes were now in a landfill somewhere and my leather jacket because my parka was undoubtedly a melted stink sponge, unfit for human use. I also brought along my 9 mm Berretta. I don't always carry a gun. It's too easy to kill people with them. However, my profession requires heat. I have licenses and as a matter of fact, I'm a good shot. I got a medal for marksmanship when I was on the force. Whether the explosion at Irwin yesterday was an accident or not, I was packing a burner.
Miranda Juarez waved me to a seat when I arrived to interview her at 9:00 AM. She was using Bart Edgar's office because Edgar was still in the hospital. Miranda was on the phone.
" Si bueno, pero es importante que tu vayas a las classes todos los días, hijito... Si, mañana. Si, para la cena. Hasta mas tarde, querido."
She was speaking to a child, probably her grandson, telling him he had to go to school every day and that she would be having dinner with him soon. From her tone, she obviously loved this child very much. She hung up.
"I'm glad you're here Ms. Gale. The President wanted me to give you this as soon as you came in." She handed me a small piece of paper. It said Daniel Cohen had been speaking at a conference in Virginia during the time Carl Rasmus died. Bouchet was letting me know that if Carl was indeed pushed, Professor Daniel Cohen had an alibi.
"This is Bart Edgar's office. I dislike not being in my own." Miranda gestured at the papers in the corner. "Those were on his desk. I feel guilty just moving everything to the floor, but I will go through all the papers and get them in order."
I opened my mouth to make a comment but she sighed, "Please do not say that you are sure I will be able to straighten out all of Bart's..." she waved over at the papers. "You will be the sixth person to have done so this morning."
I nodded sympathetically, "Bart does seem to have... issues. Anything new on his or Georgia Smith's condition?"
"First, I must tell you that Dr.
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