Read Online Corktown by Ty Hutchinson - Free Book Online

looked cool in it. As soon as we were out of sight of the press, I flipped the visor down to check my makeup.
    Wilkinson looked over at me. “You look fine.”
    I did. I just wanted to hear it. And to break the tension.
    After a few moments of silence, Wilkinson spoke. “The auto industry tie-in is our first real clue,” he said.
    “It’s something to bite into.”
    “You think it matters that the victims work at different companies?”
    “Nah. I’m assuming car execs in this town move around a lot.”
    “A few years ago, I saw a documentary about the city of Flint.”
    “Oh?” I asked just as I had a yawn attack. “Sorry. So this documentary…?”
    Wilkinson gave me a quick look before he started. “Well, it was the late seventies. Pretty much everyone in Flint worked at the plants or made a living off the workers who worked there. Then GM started closing plants. The effect was disastrous. The entire town practically shut down. Everyone was suddenly out of a job. According to the film, the city never recovered.”
    An entire town? Someone living through that could develop a deep hatred for GM, maybe even all three of the biggies. I could see our guy being an ex-employee. What I couldn’t quite accept yet was how a factory worker develops the chops to drain a body in seconds. Was he a hunter? I racked my brains trying to figure out if there were other angles. At the moment, disgruntled worker seemed to be a good way to go.
    Wilkinson tapped the steering wheel. “What are you thinking? I hear grinding.”
    “I think we need to have a come to Jesus with the lieutenant about what the hell is going on here. Also, I think it’ll be good to talk to the press.”
    “You just did.”
    “That’s not the press I had in mind.”
    Wilkinson pulled into a park near the lake.
    “What are you doing?” I asked.
    “I thought we would swing by the area where the dead fisherman was found. This is Pier Park.”
    We turned into the parking lot. Half of the land jutting out from the shore was reserved for slips. The other half was a small park.
    “Looks dead during the week,” I said.
    “Over there,” Wilkinson pointed. “Near the far corner. They found the body inside that gazebo.”
    “From the looks of it, I’d say our killer had plenty of time with his victim.”

 
     
    19
     
     
    By the time we had the car parked in the lot next to the precinct, the heat index had hit ninety-six degrees. The humidity didn’t help either. It felt like I stepped out of an air-conditioned car and straight into a sauna. I fussed with my hair for a bit before noticing a newsstand on the corner. “Hang on. I’m going to grab a newspaper.”
    “A little light reading?” Wilkinson asked when I returned.
    “You could say that.” I flipped through the Detroit Free Press until I found the auto section. “This is who we need to talk to.”
    Wilkinson looked where I was pointing. “An auto industry columnist?”
    “Who else would know everything there is to know about the auto industry? He might be able to help us narrow the field on our guy or point to an event worth investigating.”
    The second we opened the doors to the precinct, a whoosh of arctic wind swirled around us. It felt wonderful, but I slung my jacket back on. We were heading for the lieutenant’s office, and he was the last person I wanted ogling my chest. Yes, I’m one of those women. If the wind blows, I become a pointer. It has its pros and cons.
    Wilkinson stopped outside our office. “Tell you what; I’ll get a head start on tracking this guy down. I’ll rendezvous with you later.”
    “Okay. See you in a bit,” I said and continued on.
    I gave White’s door a couple of knuckle raps.
    “Agent Kane. Come inside.” He motioned for me to sit. “What can I do for you?”
    “I’ve got questions. I hope you have answers.”
    “Shoot away,” he said as he leaned back in his chair and folded his hands over his lap.
    “I had a conversation this morning