Read Online Depths: Southern Watch #2 by Robert J. Crane - Free Book Online
Authors: Robert J. Crane
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before, not even a post-autopsy corpse. He swallowed hard and then turned around, leaving the room before he could feel any more ill. He stood just outside, letting the smell of the scene permeate his nose. He didn’t feel any sicker, but he didn’t feel any better, either. He just stood there for a few minutes, trying to get his breath and realizing that what he’d just seen probably couldn’t ever be unseen.
* * *
Erin drove along above the speed limit. She didn’t have a police vehicle, just her old Honda, but all the cops in town were already at her destination, so who was going to stop her?
She hammered the accelerator as she went down a city street at forty, about ten miles over. Reeve had called, telling her to get her ass down to the crime scene immediately. She was a little excited and a little horrified, since she hadn’t really been to any real crime scenes before. Most of her horror came from the fact that he’d told her to stop and get coffee for everyone. That stung. She tried to decide if he’d asked her because she was the most junior member of the department or because she was the only woman. With Reeve, it could have been either.
She took the corners with care, four Styrofoam cups on the seat next to her in one of those fancy holders they gave out nowadays. She was surprised that Pat at the Surrey Diner on the square had them, but she did. It was a little surprise, like Midian was slowly entering the modern world.
The prospect of what she was about to see, about to be involved in, was so overwhelming that it nearly eclipsed the thoughts still hanging around her head about Hendricks. She was still kicking herself over everything related to him. Sure, he was cute, and she’d thought because of his association with Arch it was like he came stamped with a personal recommendation. But that was kind of dumb, on reflection. She’d known all the other guys she’d slept with for pretty much her whole life. They were all local, and she knew through rumor and admission the people they’d slept with. The seedier ones she was careful with.
With Hendricks, though, it was like any good sense she might have had fled at the sight of his cowboy hat and lovely abs. And they were lovely. She liked to run a hand over them just to feel the firm ripples. She shook that thought out of her head.
He was a mystery, and who didn’t love a mystery? Still, just because someone was mysterious, it didn’t mean you had to sleep with them without a condom. Quite the opposite, in fact, because one of the secrets he could have been hiding under that coat and hat might just have been syphilis. At least she was on the pill; wondering what a baby cowboy would look like was one mystery she didn’t want solved at present.
He’d showed up last night, beaten all to hell, then left this morning in the middle of a burgeoning argument. Didn’t even say goodbye, and Erin had to admit that stuck in her craw more than a little. The next time she saw him, she wanted to give him a little hell of her own. The other part of her, the non-confrontational part, which was small but present, just hoped he’d pick up and leave town. Problem solved.
But most of her kind of hoped he wouldn’t.
She pulled up behind Arch’s Explorer on Crosser Street and killed the engine. She had to admit, she was more than a little envious of Arch. He’d gotten the last squad spot, the new car the department had bought last year, and he spent his days on patrol. Meanwhile she got stuck behind the desk working dispatch and filing and computer shit, had to drive her own personal vehicle, even on department business, and got stuck doing coffee and lunch runs (though she had to admit Reeve did split the lunch runs with her fairly often).
She didn’t begrudge Arch any of what he’d gotten, but she did wish, as the sole owner of a vagina in the Sheriff’s Department, that some affirmative action would kick in on her behalf. Maybe next year.
But
* * *
Erin drove along above the speed limit. She didn’t have a police vehicle, just her old Honda, but all the cops in town were already at her destination, so who was going to stop her?
She hammered the accelerator as she went down a city street at forty, about ten miles over. Reeve had called, telling her to get her ass down to the crime scene immediately. She was a little excited and a little horrified, since she hadn’t really been to any real crime scenes before. Most of her horror came from the fact that he’d told her to stop and get coffee for everyone. That stung. She tried to decide if he’d asked her because she was the most junior member of the department or because she was the only woman. With Reeve, it could have been either.
She took the corners with care, four Styrofoam cups on the seat next to her in one of those fancy holders they gave out nowadays. She was surprised that Pat at the Surrey Diner on the square had them, but she did. It was a little surprise, like Midian was slowly entering the modern world.
The prospect of what she was about to see, about to be involved in, was so overwhelming that it nearly eclipsed the thoughts still hanging around her head about Hendricks. She was still kicking herself over everything related to him. Sure, he was cute, and she’d thought because of his association with Arch it was like he came stamped with a personal recommendation. But that was kind of dumb, on reflection. She’d known all the other guys she’d slept with for pretty much her whole life. They were all local, and she knew through rumor and admission the people they’d slept with. The seedier ones she was careful with.
With Hendricks, though, it was like any good sense she might have had fled at the sight of his cowboy hat and lovely abs. And they were lovely. She liked to run a hand over them just to feel the firm ripples. She shook that thought out of her head.
He was a mystery, and who didn’t love a mystery? Still, just because someone was mysterious, it didn’t mean you had to sleep with them without a condom. Quite the opposite, in fact, because one of the secrets he could have been hiding under that coat and hat might just have been syphilis. At least she was on the pill; wondering what a baby cowboy would look like was one mystery she didn’t want solved at present.
He’d showed up last night, beaten all to hell, then left this morning in the middle of a burgeoning argument. Didn’t even say goodbye, and Erin had to admit that stuck in her craw more than a little. The next time she saw him, she wanted to give him a little hell of her own. The other part of her, the non-confrontational part, which was small but present, just hoped he’d pick up and leave town. Problem solved.
But most of her kind of hoped he wouldn’t.
She pulled up behind Arch’s Explorer on Crosser Street and killed the engine. She had to admit, she was more than a little envious of Arch. He’d gotten the last squad spot, the new car the department had bought last year, and he spent his days on patrol. Meanwhile she got stuck behind the desk working dispatch and filing and computer shit, had to drive her own personal vehicle, even on department business, and got stuck doing coffee and lunch runs (though she had to admit Reeve did split the lunch runs with her fairly often).
She didn’t begrudge Arch any of what he’d gotten, but she did wish, as the sole owner of a vagina in the Sheriff’s Department, that some affirmative action would kick in on her behalf. Maybe next year.
But
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