Read Online Progeny by E. H. Reinhard - Free Book Online Page B

headed out. On my phone, I pulled up the address the captain had sent over and clicked the button on my GPS to take us there. The drive would be twenty-eight minutes, or so the screen said.
    Hank and I sat in silence for half of the ride. I assumed we were both thinking about the same things. The level of insanity required to skin a human was unimaginable. The sheer amount of malice it took to attack an elderly man suffering from Alzheimer’s was deplorable.
    I turned right onto SR-54 East and flipped down the sun visor on the unmarked cruiser.
    Hank pulled his aviator sunglasses from his breast pocket of his jacket and put them on to shield his eyes from the morning sun. “Are we sure this is another copycat?” he asked.
    “Yeah.”
    “Do we know who the victim is?”
    “No.”

Chapter 12
    Angel heard the television in the living room. The local news was broadcasting from the neighborhood where they’d left Herb LaSalle’s corpse dangling from the rafters of his garage. The anchorman kept repeating the phrase, “Grisly remains found inside home in upscale neighborhood.”
    “Baby, come in here,” Carmen called.
    Angel walked into the living room, her gloved hands covered in bits of flesh. The fleshing knife hung from her right hand.
    “Take those silly gloves off, Angel. Your father never wore those.”
    “I don’t want to cut myself. These are safe, look.” She pulled the blade of the knife over the palm of her hand. The stainless butcher’s glove protected her skin.
    “I don’t care. You need to do it by feel, or else you’ll screw up. Take them off before you go back to work.”
    Angel looked at the floor. “Fine, Mama. Did you need something?”
    “They found LaSalle.”
    “I know. I could hear the news from the other room,” Angel said.
    Carmen stood from the couch and turned off the television. “We’ll have to hurry to get to the rest of them before the cops do.”
    She motioned for Angel to go back into the spare bedroom. Carmen followed her in.
    “How’s it coming?” Carmen asked.
    “I have the Pullman skin completely salted and in the rack.” Angel nodded toward the rolling silver bread rack filled with slats of skin on baking trays. “I just started on LaSalle’s.”
    Carmen held her curled finger against her lips as her eyes welled up.
    “What’s the matter?” Angel asked.
    “Nothing.” Carmen shook her head. “Your Daddy just said he was happy to see his Angel all grown up and following in his footsteps.”
    “I wish he was still here.”
    “So do I.” Carmen sniffed and wiped her eyes. “Come on. Let me give you a hand. We’ll have to head out in a little bit.”

Chapter 13
    “Shit,” I said.
    We rolled down the block, weaving in and out among news vans.
    “Someone must have gotten the word out,” Hank said.
    Orange plastic barricades, just in front of a Pasco County squad car with a shooting star on the side, blocked the street up ahead. I pulled up to the blockade and lowered my window. A large deputy approached. He looked to be in his thirties, with a black sheriff’s baseball cap covering short brown hair. Dark sunglasses hid his eyes. His tattooed arms filled the short sleeves of his green sheriff’s shirt. He wore some kind of large tactical-looking watch. He was probably a member of their SWAT unit when he wasn’t watching barricades. When he reached my window, I saw that his name badge read Coker.
    “Lieutenant Kane and Sergeant Rawlings from the TPD. Your guys are expecting us,” I said.
    He pulled off his sunglasses. “Yeah, the homicide guys. I haven’t been in there, but I hear it’s bad. You’ll want to talk with Deputy Gillison. He should be in the house.”
    “Thanks,” I said.
    “Let me get the barricades for you.”
    I nodded.
    Coker stepped away from my window and waved over another deputy to help him slide the plastic barricades out of the way, and then he pointed us through. Hank and I drove three houses up and parked along the curb