Read Online Running Dark by Joseph Heywood - Free Book Online Page A

and laughing and brushing off leaves and ground detritus. Then the camera was focused on a single woman, equally naked and bowing for the camera. It was Mehegen.
    The film ran out and clicked as it spun on the spool. “Well?” she said.
    â€œArt film, not a movie,” he said.
    She giggled. “I know that definition. Bare tits and ass make it art.” She poured more wine for herself. “My friends had more fun than I did,” she said. “That was my third jump and their fiftieth. I thought I’d wet myself waiting to go out the door.”
    â€œDid you?”
    â€œNo,” she said as she took scoops of melted ice cream and put it on slices of lussiketbröd.
    Service didn’t like to drink a lot, especially if there was any chance of a duty call.
    â€œIs there room in that bed of yours for two?” she asked.
    He said, “I think it’s designed to sleep one.”
    She laughed. “You know what they say: What sleeps one will lay two.”
    â€œNew math. I haven’t tried that,” he said.
    She smiled. “Well, that’s both a damn shame and fandamntastic news,” she said digging into the bread and ice cream with a spoon. She took one small bite, put the spoon down, stood up, and leaned over and kissed him on the forehead before moving down to his lips.
    â€œChristmas Eve,” she said. “We can take turns playing Santa.”

    Service awoke to two gunshots. A naked, sleeping Brigid Mehegen was draped over his shoulder. He pushed her aside and rolled off the bed, grabbed his sweats, went to the other end of the trailer to find his boots, and stumbled around trying to get them on.
    Two more shots sounded outside. He grabbed his four-cell flashlight, unsnapped his .357 revolver, pulled it free of the holster on his gunbelt, and stepped onto the porch. His light illuminated a gigantic animal that snorted and startled Service, who slipped on the icy porch and fell hard.
    â€œTurn that bloody light off—you’re scarin’ the bejeezus outta my reindeer!” a stentorian voice roared.
    Prone in the snow, Service rolled onto his side, shone his light toward the voice, and saw two of the biggest horses he had ever seen. They were light-colored and their rear haunches were spackled with even lighter spots. “Those aren’t reindeer,” he said.
    The animals appeared to be harnessed to a van. The voice on top said, “I’m Santa Claus, and I decide what reindeer look like.”
    The van suddenly lit up. It was decorated with Christmas lights outlining the windows, including the windshield. “You done boning my granddaughter?”
    Service heard Brigid Mehegen’s voice behind him and it was anything but pleased.
    â€œJesus, Perry, what the hell are you doing here?”
    â€œCame for my Christmas prezzie,” the man shouted at her. “I don’t see that a hormonally driven hornycane should change tradition. You know your Bampy likes getting his presents Christmas Eve, and here it is already by-God Christmas morning!”
    â€œDammit, Perry, act your age and go home! I’ll be there tomorrow.”
    â€œIt’s already tomorrow,” the man pointed out. “And I’m already here!”
    â€œYou don’t deserve a present,” Mehegen snapped at him.
    â€œI’m your beloved Bampy.”
    â€œWhere’s the gun?” Service demanded as he got to his feet.
    â€œRight here in my holster,” the old man said, patting his hip.
    â€œWell, leave it right there.”
    â€œI just wanted to get my granddaughter’s attention,” the man said.
    â€œYou’re a stubborn, self-centered old man. I never should have told you where I was going,” Mehegen said. “Who’d you steal the horses from?”
    â€œThey’re reindeer,” he insisted. “And I didn’t steal them. They sort of followed me.”
    Mehegan stepped beside Service and poked