Read Online Never Happened by Debra Webb - Free Book Online

Charlie,” she murmured. “Let’s have a look.”
    Gingerly, she lifted the eyelid and surveyed the eyeball. She shuddered, couldn’t help herself. The body changed drastically after twenty-four hours without blood flowing through the veins. The skinlooked gray with the slightest marbling effect deep beneath the surface. The eyes were cloudy, the pupils fully dilated. The flesh was cold—that was the worst. Nothing smelled as creepy as chilled flesh. Her stomach knotted.
    Kicking aside her squeamishness, she touched the eyeball, sliding the pad of her finger over it. Nothing. Frowning, she checked again just to be sure.
    If he’d been wearing a second lens, it was gone now.
    â€œDammit.”
    She zipped the bag carefully over what was left of Charlie Crane and closed the drawer. For a moment she just stood there, feeling sad for him. No one should die alone.
    Henson had died alone.
    The idea that she might very well die that way made her stomach spasm all over again. Of course there was always the chance her mother would outlive her. But what if she didn’t?
    Would she end up in the morgue with no family to claim her?
    Nah. Shannon would claim her. See that she got a proper funeral. At least as long as she was still alive.
    Despite her chosen career field, this was the firsttime Alex could recall consciously considering what would happen to her when she died. Other than the usual decomposition, that is.
    This whole thing with Henson had really shaken her up.
    Alex peeled off the gloves and disposed of them as she crossed the room. She opened the door and Cody whipped around with a start.
    â€œFinished?”
    He tried to look calm and composed but he didn’t fool her. He’d been sweating every second of the six or seven minutes she’d been in there.
    â€œYeah. Thanks, man, I owe you.”
    Between that announcement and the whoosh of the door closing behind her, he relaxed. Looked downright ready to melt into a puddle of equal parts physical need and mental relief.
    â€œWe could have dinner,” he suggested tentatively.
    Alex hooked her arm in his and headed toward his office. “We could.”
    â€œName the night.” He was feeling cockier now, grinning like a kid looking forward to Christmas.
    Oh, yes, easily amused.
    She went on tiptoe and placed a chaste kiss on his cheek. “I’ll call you.”
    Giving him a show he wouldn’t soon forget, she strutted away. She didn’t have to look back to know he’d enjoyed every second of it.
    Men were so predictable.
    God love ’em.
    Â 
    The driveway was empty when Alex arrived at the house Charlie Crane had called home until he’d elected to end his existence. She scanned the neighborhood as she pulled on a pair of latex gloves. At half past ten in the morning most folks were either at work or on the beach. The morning was far too glorious to spend cooped up inside unless you were physically unable to get out and around.
    Alex was banking on the idea that the landlord hadn’t gotten around to taking care of the broken lock on Charlie’s apartment after the first cops on the scene had basically kicked in the door.
    And she was right. The door opened with a simple twist of the knob. The splintered wood on the interior side of the casing confirmed that the repairman hadn’t gotten around to the job yet. It wasn’t as if the landlord really cared. The stuff inside didn’t belong to him and this was one of the safest neighborhoods in the city. Break-ins and vandalism rarely occurred.
    After pushing the door shut behind her, she flipped on the overhead lights. The front door opened into the nondescript living room with its renter’s white walls and builder’s grade carpeting in the ever-popular sand color. A hall beyond the living room took her deeper into the house. She flipped on more lights as she went. It was broad daylight outside but the shuttered windows left the