Read Online One Deadly Sin by Annie Solomon - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Annie Solomon
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Holt, the EMTs, and the volunteer fire department, they got the driver’s door open and Runkle’s body off to the county morgue.
The rest of the witnesses confirmed Burkett’s story, which left Holt mentally finishing his accident report, case closed. He gave Burkett the okay, and the mechanic called the garage and had someone bring the tow truck to the wreck.
The crowd of onlookers had thinned, but there were still a dozen hardy souls who would stay until the bitter end. They watched silently as Burkett hooked up the wreck and stood by while the driver started the winch. The crushed metal clanked as it was hauled upward, and the briefcase on the seat fell onto the car floor.
“Slow it down!” Burkett yelled to the driver.
The winch jerked to a stop, and the glove compartment popped open. The owner’s manual, papers, and other odds and ends fell out, then shifted from side to side as the pulley started again, slower this time.
“Hold it. Hold it!” Holt held up a hand, and Burkett shouted to the driver to stop.
“Something the matter, Chief?” Burkett asked.
Holt barely heard him. “Sam,” he said softly. “Get me an evidence bag from the trunk of my car. And some latex.”
She was back seconds later with the bag and the gloves. “What is it?”
Instead of answering, Holt put on the gloves, leaned in through the now-open driver’s side, and picked something off the floor of the car.
“Lord God a mercy,” Burkett said with solemn awe.
Sensing something momentous, the crowd edged closer, and Burkett blurted, “It’s one of them black angels.”
People started murmuring, and Holt snapped his head up. “Get those yahoos away from the car,” he said to Sam. But it was too late. She ushered them back, but they’d all heard. He gave the crowd his sternest, coldest look. “Go home. All of you.”
Folks grumbled and shuffled, but neither he nor Sam gave ground, and one by one they pulled each other away. Finally only the tow truck was left. Holt sent Sam back to the office to write up her report while Burkett finished hoisting the convertible and had it towed to the garage.
“What do you want me to do with it?” Burkett asked Holt. “Someone going to claim it?”
“Not yet. Listen, I want a full workup. Brakes, fuel line, transmission, you check everything. And I mean everything. If that car’s been tampered with I want to know. I want you to do it personally, okay? No one else.”
The intensity in Holt’s voice communicated itself to Burkett. He nodded gravely. “Yes, sir.”
“And Andy—you keep it to yourself. You have notes or paperwork, keep them locked up. I hear any of this talked around, I’ll know where it came from.”
“Won’t be from me.”
“Good. When you’re done, you call me. No one else. Got it?”
Burkett nodded, and Holt handed him a card with his contact information on it. Though he tried not to show it, he felt tired and dispirited. The death of two city leaders so close together was daunting. And the black angel lingered like doom over both.
12
A s always, Sam Fish did as she was ordered: went to the office to write out a report. She didn’t particularly like writing reports, but following orders was a way of life. Otherwise things got all screwed to hell. Not that they couldn’t get all screwed to hell on their own. She’d seen that for herself in alibabaland. Her mind automatically scolded her. Iraq. She meant Iraq. Of course. No disrespect intended. Sir.
She sighed. Couldn’t seem to shake the army. Maybe she should have stayed in. If her mama hadn’t gotten sick she probably would have. A lifer. Well, things don’t always work out the way you planned. And law enforcement was a good job. Holt a good boss. Not bad to look at, either.
Her face heated, and she immediately dismissed that thought. It was her mother’s fault, always telling her to loosen up. “How you going to get that handsome man to notice you?”
Well, what was wrong with a
The rest of the witnesses confirmed Burkett’s story, which left Holt mentally finishing his accident report, case closed. He gave Burkett the okay, and the mechanic called the garage and had someone bring the tow truck to the wreck.
The crowd of onlookers had thinned, but there were still a dozen hardy souls who would stay until the bitter end. They watched silently as Burkett hooked up the wreck and stood by while the driver started the winch. The crushed metal clanked as it was hauled upward, and the briefcase on the seat fell onto the car floor.
“Slow it down!” Burkett yelled to the driver.
The winch jerked to a stop, and the glove compartment popped open. The owner’s manual, papers, and other odds and ends fell out, then shifted from side to side as the pulley started again, slower this time.
“Hold it. Hold it!” Holt held up a hand, and Burkett shouted to the driver to stop.
“Something the matter, Chief?” Burkett asked.
Holt barely heard him. “Sam,” he said softly. “Get me an evidence bag from the trunk of my car. And some latex.”
She was back seconds later with the bag and the gloves. “What is it?”
Instead of answering, Holt put on the gloves, leaned in through the now-open driver’s side, and picked something off the floor of the car.
“Lord God a mercy,” Burkett said with solemn awe.
Sensing something momentous, the crowd edged closer, and Burkett blurted, “It’s one of them black angels.”
People started murmuring, and Holt snapped his head up. “Get those yahoos away from the car,” he said to Sam. But it was too late. She ushered them back, but they’d all heard. He gave the crowd his sternest, coldest look. “Go home. All of you.”
Folks grumbled and shuffled, but neither he nor Sam gave ground, and one by one they pulled each other away. Finally only the tow truck was left. Holt sent Sam back to the office to write up her report while Burkett finished hoisting the convertible and had it towed to the garage.
“What do you want me to do with it?” Burkett asked Holt. “Someone going to claim it?”
“Not yet. Listen, I want a full workup. Brakes, fuel line, transmission, you check everything. And I mean everything. If that car’s been tampered with I want to know. I want you to do it personally, okay? No one else.”
The intensity in Holt’s voice communicated itself to Burkett. He nodded gravely. “Yes, sir.”
“And Andy—you keep it to yourself. You have notes or paperwork, keep them locked up. I hear any of this talked around, I’ll know where it came from.”
“Won’t be from me.”
“Good. When you’re done, you call me. No one else. Got it?”
Burkett nodded, and Holt handed him a card with his contact information on it. Though he tried not to show it, he felt tired and dispirited. The death of two city leaders so close together was daunting. And the black angel lingered like doom over both.
12
A s always, Sam Fish did as she was ordered: went to the office to write out a report. She didn’t particularly like writing reports, but following orders was a way of life. Otherwise things got all screwed to hell. Not that they couldn’t get all screwed to hell on their own. She’d seen that for herself in alibabaland. Her mind automatically scolded her. Iraq. She meant Iraq. Of course. No disrespect intended. Sir.
She sighed. Couldn’t seem to shake the army. Maybe she should have stayed in. If her mama hadn’t gotten sick she probably would have. A lifer. Well, things don’t always work out the way you planned. And law enforcement was a good job. Holt a good boss. Not bad to look at, either.
Her face heated, and she immediately dismissed that thought. It was her mother’s fault, always telling her to loosen up. “How you going to get that handsome man to notice you?”
Well, what was wrong with a
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