Read Online Born to Be Wild by Catherine Coulter - Free Book Online

place to hide.” He sighed. “And that would mean premeditation. I can’t buy that. The person found out something, and lost it. This was sudden, uncontrolled.”
    Jack picked up the golf club that was leaning beside the door in a plastic bag, already examined by the forensic people. “I don’t golf. What can you tell me about this?”
    â€œIt’s a Callaway, a Big Bertha Fusion FT-3 driver.”
    â€œExpensive?”
    â€œVery, but about the same as some of the other big names. They’re excellent.”
    â€œWould there be a whole lot of them out at the country club?”
    â€œSure. This is an affluent area.”
    â€œOkay, thanks. I’ll be in touch.” Jack left the morgue, actually a converted room in the basement of the Goddard Bay Community Hospital. At that moment, Jack was very glad he wasn’t in Chicago with its chains of command and its protocols. He was free to do what he thought best. He punched up his friend John Goddard on his cell.
    John answered, listened. When Jack finished, he said, “I thought I was going to throw up. I didn’t know a human being had that much blood in him—and other stuff. It was everywhere. That was pretty ugly, Jack.”
    â€œYeah, it was. Okay, I’m heading over to interview Marci Maynard. I’m betting she knows our murderer. You want to come?”
    John thought about it. “No, I think it would be best if I stayed out of the investigation for now. This is a big case for us. I don’t want to be accused of crossing any lines, of manufacturing evidence for an indictment.”
    â€œOkay, no problem. Hey, John, you don’t golf much these days, do you?”
    â€œNo, not much. Jason was hit over the head with a driver, right?”
    â€œYeah, a Callaway.”
    â€œGood clubs, used by lots of pros, probably a lot of our locals as well. You might need some luck tracking that down. Oh yeah, Jack, something else. This isn’t about the murder. This is about—well, it’s a favor, a big one. I’m in a little trouble here.” He told Jack about Kelly Beverly, the engagement ring, and the reservations at Le Fleur de Beijing that evening.
    Jack laughed, couldn’t help it. “She knocked you right out of your boots, did she?”
    â€œShe knocked them into the next town, Jack. I was a goner. You can take this to the bank: I swear on the grave of my crazy uncle Albert that I’m never going to do it again.”
    â€œYeah, yeah, that’s what you used to say when we were hanging our heads over the john the morning after one of those sorority parties.”
    â€œOkay, you’re right. I don’t want it again until I’m more mature, more able to control my brain afterward.”
    â€œThink a moment about a guy’s hard wiring.”
    â€œOkay, maybe you’re right. Will you help me out here?”
    â€œSo you want me to come fetch you at the Fleur de Beijing at exactly nine-thirty tonight, with something urgent about the case. That’ll give you an hour—you’re sure you’ll have gotten yourself off the hook by then?”
    â€œIf I haven’t, shoot me.”
    Jack grinned into his cell. He knew John didn’t really need him to be there, only wanted some help to make a graceful exit after breaking up with Kelly. It had happened before. They’d met at Princeton, John a psychology major because he didn’t know yet what he wanted to do with his life, and Jack in many of the same psych classes because he knew all along he wanted to be a cop. As it turned out John had gone to law school, while Jack went on for his master’s degree in forensic science. The FBI had called, which was gratifying, but he’d wanted something local, and moved back to where his family lived, in Chicago. But now he was here, in Goddard Bay, largely because John Goddard, the newly elected district attorney, had called him at the perfect