Read Online Dark Prophecy by Anthony E. Zuiker - Free Book Online Page A

were tough on me. They were a lot easier on Julie. It bothered me—it was like she could get away with anything, being out late, drinking, partying. I focused on my work, and figured that Julie and I would get to know each other later, when I didn’t think she was a spoiled little brat. Well, I never got that chance.”
    Dark couldn’t help himself. He glanced down at the photo and saw that Graysmith did resemble her younger sister. Same eyes and facial structure. Same small ears, delicate nose.
    “Her murder devastated my parents,” Graysmith said. “They’re filing for divorce now—which is common, I understand. Sometimes you just can’t go on after something like this. It takes a uniquely strong-willed individual to keep waking up in the morning after losing a loved one.”
    The way she looked at Dark seemed to be an invite. Go on. You’ve lost your wife in the most horrible way imaginable. Tell me you understand. Tell me you feel my pain. But Dark refused to take the bait. “And you?” he asked.
    “I approached it clinically. It’s what I’ve always done. If you have a problem, you simply bring together the pieces that will solve it.”
    Dark turned Julie’s photo around with his fingertips, then slid it back across the coffee table toward Graysmith. “You think I’m one of those pieces.”
    “I know you are. You’re the best there is. That is not hollow praise. It’s a fact.”
    Dark ignored her. He went to his kitchen, took a bottle of beer from a shelf, uncapped it, tossed the cap into the trash. “I’m not what you’re looking for. You should go.” He took a long pull of his beer.
    “Have you heard about Jeb Paulson yet?”
    Dark slowly pulled the beer bottle away from his lips. Paulson was the newest member of the Special Circs team. Dark had worked with him once before, on a case in Philadelphia. Last he had heard, Paulson was his “replacement.”
    “I just received word that he’s dead,” Graysmith said. “Seems like it’s the second in a series.”
    “What are you talking about?” Dark asked.
    Graysmith lifted a thumb. “Martin Green was first. Special Circs sent Paulson down to the murder scene.” Then an index finger. “Now it’s Paulson. Whoever this is, he’s just getting started.”
    “How do you know about this?” Dark asked.
    “I have people back in D.C. who keep me informed of anything that even remotely seems like a serial killing. Like I told you, I am serious about this.”
    Many thoughts were racing through Dark’s head right now—but most of all, the grisly thought of a Special Circs agent dying. “What happened to Paulson?”
    “He was thrown off the roof of his apartment building. Say the word and I’ll get you to the crime scene in Virginia within four hours.”
    “For what?”
    “To do what you do best.”
    “No,” Dark said. “Special Circs will be all over this.”
    “Yeah, but Special Circs is not you. They were never as good as you.”
    Dark looked away.
    Graysmith stood and moved quickly to his side. “This killer’s not going to stop. I have the resources to catch him. The money, the tools, the access. The only thing I don’t have is a mind like yours. You were born to catch these monsters, Dark, and I don’t think you can just walk away from a gift like that. I think you’ve been waiting for an opportunity like this since June. Well, here I am. No strings attached. I won’t direct you. I won’t order you. I won’t influence your investigations in any way. I’ll just fund you, give you the tools you need.”
    When something seemed too good to be true, it always was.
    “So what do you say?” Graysmith asked.
    “No,” Dark said. “I’m through with that life. You can go now.”
    “You’re lying to yourself. This is what you were born to do.”
    “Okay, I’ve tried polite. So how about this: Get the fuck out of my house.”
    Graysmith stared at him for a moment, almost pleading with her eyes, but then left without a word.