Read Online Out of the Blues by Trudy Nan Boyce - Free Book Online Page A

My blood pressure is going up. Who is he partnering you with?”
    â€œNo one.”
    â€œWhat do you mean ‘no one’? Somebody has to show you protocols. You’ve handled the first responder duties on lots of bodies, but you have to have someone tell you how to put together a murder book, prepare for court, all kinds of documents, go help find witnesses, perps. And since I’m already doggin’ you out, what were you doing without a Handie-Talkie in a fight with a monster?”
    â€œI’m not putting together any new cases. He gave me a cold case: Mike Anderson. I had just barely walked in the door when the call came on the child.” She let out a long breath. “God, Wills, don’t you be raggin’ on me already.”
    He turned to the night, looking away; he clamped his mouth tight and squinted up and out. After a minute he reached and drew her close, massaging the back of her neck. “I’m beginning to wonder about your karma—this ‘being alone’ business.” He stood and pulled her to her feet. “Come on.”
    â€”
    W ILLS TRACED his finger down her back from her scalp to her tailbone as they lay on the bed facing the open window, the lacecurtain flaring slightly at the bottom from an unusually warm April morning breeze. “Don’t move, okay?”
    She heard his bare feet land, heavy steps on the creaking wood floor. Then he was back on the rumpled bed, at her back, encircling her head, and lowering a chain and pendant around her neck. “Saint Michael,” he said.
    He was the patron saint of cops, in gold and about an inch in height with his sword raised, on a chain the length of which settled it right at her heart. She turned it between her fingers.
    â€œIn honor of your promotion and to match your new gold shield. And, if you’re superstitious or religious, for your protection. I know you don’t wear jewelry, but he can hide there or not. Say something. Do you like it?”
    â€œWills, I’m—I love it.” She clasped Michael in her palm. “Even with all you’ve had going on with the case and all, you took time to get this?”
    â€œI got the heavier chain so even with your action-hero ways it’ll likely stay with you. Besides, as a detective I was hoping you’d be able to leave some of that kick-ass stuff behind.”
    She shrugged, holding the pendant.
    â€œSeriously, it’s just a little less than a year since you were shot in the head.” He tapped at the tip of the scar at her scalp line with his knuckles. “You went off on your own after that, shut out everybody. So it really scares me that Huff didn’t give you a partner. You’re already too much of an I-can-do-it-by-myself person.”
    Salt, nude, except now for the gold chain and pendant, lifted herself into Wills’ lap. “We’ll figure it out, Wills. For now, thank you, thank you, for this gift.” She leaned him into the pillows with her kiss.
    â€”
    M ASSIVE OLD OAK and spreading pecan trees shaded Wills’ street in the historic Grant Park community. There were only one ortwo surviving antebellums in the neighborhood—most were turn-of-the-twentieth-century or ’20s and ’30s bungalows, like the one Wills recently purchased. Living in town had made his life easier in that he was only ten minutes from the office and could make short stops while he was on the job to let the dogs out to the backyard or for quick walks to the park a block away.
    The Rotties’ low barks greeted them as they climbed the steps to the gate in a beautifully weathered fence that separated his place from the street and the houses on either side. Inside the entranceway the big brown-and-black lunky bitches swung their entire bodies in greeting, the foyer becoming a jumble of bumping dogs. Pansy and Violet snuffled Wonder, then Salt and their master. Wills squatted to get licked and handle their