Read Online Cemetery Dance by Douglas Preston, Lincoln Child - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Douglas Preston, Lincoln Child
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know I do."
"Exhume Fearing's body."
"In process."
"I'd also see if any of Smithback's news stories have made somebody mad recently."
"Also in process. It seems all of Smithback's stories made people mad. I got a list of his recent assignments from his editor at the Times, and my men are going through them, following up."
"You're doing well, Vinnie. Let me just add that the crime might not be as ‘disorganized' as you think — it might have been very carefully planned and executed."
"I don't think so."
"Hey — no snap judgments."
"Sorry."
"One other thing." Hayward hesitated. "You remember my saying that, before taking the job with the transit police, I worked on the New Orleans PD for eighteen months?"
"Sure."
"Pendergast is from New Orleans."
"So?"
Hayward took another sip of water. "A minute ago, I said that either Fearing's dead or he isn't. Well, there are those on the NOPD who would say otherwise. That there might be a third possibility."
"Laura, don't tell me you buy that zombii crap."
Hayward finished the half of her sandwich, pushed the plate aside. "I'm full. Want some?"
"I'm good, thanks. You didn't answer my question."
"I don't ‘buy' anything. Just talk to Pendergast about it. He knows a lot more about that … particular subject than you or I ever will. All I'm saying is, don't make up your mind too fast. It's one of your faults, Vinnie. And you know it."
D'Agosta sighed; she was right, as usual. He looked around the luncheonette: at the bustling waitresses; at the other diners reading papers, talking on cell phones, or chatting with lunch companions. He was reminded of other meals he'd had with Laura, at other restaurants. In particular, he recalled their first drink together. That had been at a particularly low point in his life — and yet it was also the moment he realized just how much he was attracted to her. They worked well together. She challenged him — in a good way. The irony of the situation was painful: he'd won his disciplinary hearing, kept his job, but it seemed that he'd lost Laura.
He cleared his throat. "So tell me about this promotion you're getting."
"I haven't gotten it yet."
"Come on, I've heard the scuttlebutt. It's just a question of formalities now."
She took a sip of water. "It's a special task force they're setting up. One–year trial period. A few members of the chief's staff will be appointed to interface with the mayor on terror response, quality–of–life issues, that kind of thing. Big public concerns."
"Visibility?"
"Extremely high."
"Wow. Another feather in your cap. Just wait, you'll be chief in a couple of years."
Laura smiled. "Not likely."
D'Agosta hesitated. "Laura. I really miss you."
The smile faded. "I miss you, too."
He looked across the table at her. She was so pretty his heart ached: pale skin, hair so black it was almost blue. "So why don't we try again? Start over?"
She paused, then shook her head. "I'm just not ready."
"Why not?"
"Vinnie, I don't trust many people. But I trusted you. And you hurt me."
"I know that, and I'm sorry. Really sorry. But I've explained all that. I had no choice, surely you see that now."
"Of course you had a choice. You could have told me the truth. You could have trusted me. As I trusted you."
D'Agosta sighed. "Look — I'm sorry."
There was a loud beep as his cell phone started ringing. When it continued, Laura said, "I think you should answer that."
"But —"
"Go ahead. Take it."
D'Agosta reached into his pocket, flipped the phone open. "Yes?"
"Vincent," drawled the mellifluous southern voice. "Did I catch you at a bad time?"
He swallowed. "No, not really."
"Excellent. We have an appointment with a certain Mr. Kline."
"On my way."
"Good. Oh, one other thing — care to take a drive with me tomorrow morning?"
"Where to?"
"Whispering Oaks Mausoleum. The exhumation order came through. We're opening Fearing's crypt tomorrow at noon."
Cemetery Dance
Chapter 13
Digital Veracity
"Exhume Fearing's body."
"In process."
"I'd also see if any of Smithback's news stories have made somebody mad recently."
"Also in process. It seems all of Smithback's stories made people mad. I got a list of his recent assignments from his editor at the Times, and my men are going through them, following up."
"You're doing well, Vinnie. Let me just add that the crime might not be as ‘disorganized' as you think — it might have been very carefully planned and executed."
"I don't think so."
"Hey — no snap judgments."
"Sorry."
"One other thing." Hayward hesitated. "You remember my saying that, before taking the job with the transit police, I worked on the New Orleans PD for eighteen months?"
"Sure."
"Pendergast is from New Orleans."
"So?"
Hayward took another sip of water. "A minute ago, I said that either Fearing's dead or he isn't. Well, there are those on the NOPD who would say otherwise. That there might be a third possibility."
"Laura, don't tell me you buy that zombii crap."
Hayward finished the half of her sandwich, pushed the plate aside. "I'm full. Want some?"
"I'm good, thanks. You didn't answer my question."
"I don't ‘buy' anything. Just talk to Pendergast about it. He knows a lot more about that … particular subject than you or I ever will. All I'm saying is, don't make up your mind too fast. It's one of your faults, Vinnie. And you know it."
D'Agosta sighed; she was right, as usual. He looked around the luncheonette: at the bustling waitresses; at the other diners reading papers, talking on cell phones, or chatting with lunch companions. He was reminded of other meals he'd had with Laura, at other restaurants. In particular, he recalled their first drink together. That had been at a particularly low point in his life — and yet it was also the moment he realized just how much he was attracted to her. They worked well together. She challenged him — in a good way. The irony of the situation was painful: he'd won his disciplinary hearing, kept his job, but it seemed that he'd lost Laura.
He cleared his throat. "So tell me about this promotion you're getting."
"I haven't gotten it yet."
"Come on, I've heard the scuttlebutt. It's just a question of formalities now."
She took a sip of water. "It's a special task force they're setting up. One–year trial period. A few members of the chief's staff will be appointed to interface with the mayor on terror response, quality–of–life issues, that kind of thing. Big public concerns."
"Visibility?"
"Extremely high."
"Wow. Another feather in your cap. Just wait, you'll be chief in a couple of years."
Laura smiled. "Not likely."
D'Agosta hesitated. "Laura. I really miss you."
The smile faded. "I miss you, too."
He looked across the table at her. She was so pretty his heart ached: pale skin, hair so black it was almost blue. "So why don't we try again? Start over?"
She paused, then shook her head. "I'm just not ready."
"Why not?"
"Vinnie, I don't trust many people. But I trusted you. And you hurt me."
"I know that, and I'm sorry. Really sorry. But I've explained all that. I had no choice, surely you see that now."
"Of course you had a choice. You could have told me the truth. You could have trusted me. As I trusted you."
D'Agosta sighed. "Look — I'm sorry."
There was a loud beep as his cell phone started ringing. When it continued, Laura said, "I think you should answer that."
"But —"
"Go ahead. Take it."
D'Agosta reached into his pocket, flipped the phone open. "Yes?"
"Vincent," drawled the mellifluous southern voice. "Did I catch you at a bad time?"
He swallowed. "No, not really."
"Excellent. We have an appointment with a certain Mr. Kline."
"On my way."
"Good. Oh, one other thing — care to take a drive with me tomorrow morning?"
"Where to?"
"Whispering Oaks Mausoleum. The exhumation order came through. We're opening Fearing's crypt tomorrow at noon."
Cemetery Dance
Chapter 13
Digital Veracity
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