Read Online Shadows by Edna Buchanan - Free Book Online

twenties,” he said hopefully. “Even if it’s homicide, or multiple homicides, nobody’ud be left alive to prosecute.
    â€œStone, call Donaldson at fire, tell ’em we need a generator and high-intensity work lights down here. And get Ed Baker and the A-team from the crime lab.”
    â€œI’ll ask for an alternate light source as well, the Poly Light,” Stone said as they gathered on the front porch, “to check for hairs and fibers. Doubt if they can lift anything off those limestone walls, but maybe they can get something off the box and the shelf.”
    â€œHey, where the hell is she?” Burch blinked into the sticky summer haze, eyes readjusting to the light.
    Kiki Courtelis was nowhere in sight.
    â€œYeah.” Nazario stepped to the porch railing to scan their surroundings. “Our sweet little tour guide is MIA.”
    â€œThe chick with the briefcase?” The husky uniform officer was tying yellow crime scene tape to a tree. “She just split, took off in a taxicab.”
    â€œGo get her,” Burch said quietly. “Bring her ass back here! Now!”
    The officer ran for his squad car, wheeled it around, then swerved to let the lieutenant’s approaching unmarked pass.
    â€œHe was in a big hurry,” K. C. Riley said, as she joined them.
    â€œYeah, to bring back Kiki, your new best friend. The M.E. just confirmed the bad news in the basement, we don’t know how bad yet. But we turn around and she’s gone. Hope you don’t mind,” he said, “since your grannies go way back and were such good buds.”
    â€œI don’t care who the hell her grandmother was.” Riley’s face reddened. “Do what you have to do.”
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    Nazario and Assistant State Attorney Jo Salazar returned in near record time, an hour flat, with a search warrant.
    When developer Jay Edelman returned to the site of “the most exciting new project in South Florida,” police and crime scene vehicles, a fire department truck, the medical examiner’s car, and a morgue wagon crowded the winding driveway. Forced to leave his silver Navigator, he hiked up to the house, skirting parked vehicles, stumbling over tree roots, rocks, and branches. He wasn’t smiling now.
    â€œFellas, fellas!” he cried, breathing hard and sweating. Damp circles ringed the armpits of his sea-foam silk shirt; his linen trousers were wrinkled and stained by bushes and brambles.
    He waved his arms. “Okay!” he shouted over the din of the generator. “Everybody out!”
    â€œSir!” An irate uniform patrolman waved him back. “Did you see that crime scene tape across the driveway? Get off the property!”
    â€œI’m the owner! Where the hell is Sergeant Burch?” Edelman stood his ground, red-faced and panting.
    Burch and Corso stepped out onto the front porch.
    â€œFellas, fellas,” Edelman greeted them. “What is all this? When I said help yourself, this wasn’t what I had in mind. You went way overboard. You have to clear all this out of here.
    â€œGoddammit. Look what all those fucking stones and bushes did to my Ferragamos.” He lifted one foot to examine his scuffed shoe.
    â€œEnough is enough!” he bawled as Lieutenant Riley and Assistant State Attorney Jo Salazar joined the detectives.
    â€œWhat’s this?” He held the papers Salazar handed him out at arm’s length, then fumbled for his reading glasses.
    â€œA search warrant.” Salazar introduced herself.
    â€œLook, lady.” Edelman mopped his brow with a monogrammed handkerchief. “I don’t care who you are. These people have all got to go. I have heavy equipment coming in first thing in the morning.”
    â€œSorry,” she said sweetly. “That won’t be possible.”
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    In stifling heat, under portable floodlights fueled by a fire department generator, crime scene photographers documented