Read Online Body Of Truth by Deirdre Savoy - Free Book Online Page B

couple of the guys could make a decent pot, but Mari brewed it like it was Spanish coffee, dark, strong and intended to be sweetened with milk. He added his usual splash of cream and sipped. He grimaced as it went down. Mud.
    Mari reappeared in the doorway. “Let me ask you this. When did maids start carrying Coach handbags and wearing Roché scarves? Looks like I picked the wrong line of work—again.”
    Jonathan shrugged. He’d heard of the handbag company, but women’s clothing, the type expected to be seen in public, was out of his field of expertise. “Expensive?” he asked.
    â€œExclusive.” Mari came up beside him and poured herself a cup of coffee. “Each one signed by the creator himself, supposedly. Roche makes them out of his own special blend of raw and processed silk. Try six hundred dollars a pop—and that’s the bottom of the line.”
    â€œSo you think the very proper Ms. Nuñez has been helping herself to her boss’ finery?”
    Mari shrugged. “Maybe Pierce gave them to her. Passing your castoffs to the help is as American as cheating on your taxes.” As she spoke she walked toward the table and sat in the chair Rosa Nuñez had occupied. She sipped from her cup. “Hey, not bad.”
    Jonathan said nothing to that. They had bigger things to worry about than the gastronomical merits of stationhouse coffee. “So, other than the fact that Rosa Nuñez might have been ripping off her employer, we don’t find out anything new.”
    â€œDid you really expect to?”
    â€œNo.” But learning something, anything, couldn’t have hurt, considering Shea wanted it done yesterday. Mentally, he went over the leads they intended to follow that day: interviews with Pierce’s agent, her editor, her assistant, not to mention sifting through some more of her files, getting a look at her computer if the techs were done with it and requisitioning the LUDs for her home and cell phones. Light stuff.
    â€œThere you are.”
    Jonathan focused on the uniformed officer standing in the doorway. He held a single sheet of paper Jonathan recognized as the one they used to take down information on the hotlines. “Have you got something?”
    â€œI’m downstairs working the tip line. Mostly Amanda sightings. I saw Amanda on the corner of this and that. Amanda and Elvis were at Yankee Stadium. Whatever. The lieu said to give the unlikelies to Russell and Martinez to run down.”
    The story had been released to the papers saying that Pierce had been found behind the pizza parlor, but not that she had been discovered in a trash can or that she’d been nude. The report said that she’d been strangled, but nothing about the beating. Only the person who’d done that to her would know those details. It was another way of sorting out the real thing from those who just wanted to be noticed.
    The officer stepped forward, extending the paper toward him. But rather than step away, the man leaned in, looking at the paper. “This one came in last night. Didn’t know if you’d seen it. A woman claims she saw Pierce coming out of a building on Highland Avenue. 4000 block. Surprise of surprises, she didn’t give her name.” As he spoke, he tapped the box in which each bit of information was taken down.
    Jonathan shifted the paper out of the other man’s reach. “Thanks. We hadn’t seen it.”
    As the guy moved off, Jonathan cast a glance at Mari, certain the other officer’s snub hadn’t been unintentional.
    She shot him a look, which showed her disgust with her fellow officers. “Please let me know when I really do turn into a piece of furniture around here. I’m sure I’ll want to have myself reupholstered.” She slogged down the remains in her cup. “Looks like they got a number on the call.” She turned the sheet to show the series of digits scrawled at the