Read Online The Montauk Monster by Hunter Shea - Free Book Online Page A

was home to the town gazebo. The wooden structure, with its peeling chestnut paint and an interior roof that was a favorite nesting spot for every bird in the county, was a meeting point for families, lovers young and old, and tourists. He’d been told to spend the entire night patrolling the streets there, rather than dividing his time with Amagansett and East Hampton. Another county car was parked in line with the gazebo. Mickey Conrad rolled down his window and waved him over. Their cars idled side by side.
    “Pulling a double?” Dalton asked.
    “My wife wants a new deck. I have to pay for it somehow.”
    Main Street was empty. The rope used to hoist the enormous American flag atop the forty-foot flagpole tapped hollowly against the pole. The bank, Irish tavern and small shops that circled the plaza were dark and quiet.
    Mickey said, “Hey, did you hear what happened to the bodies?”
    Dalton shook his head.
    “The ME nearly had a stroke,” Mickey said, rolling his eyes. “All of those parts he and his team collected had turned to liquid by the afternoon. They don’t even have frigging teeth to help identify them. He sent out what was left to see what kind of acid was used on them. You’re either smart or lucky for not getting too close last night.”
    “Lucky is more like it.” Dalton offered up a silent prayer that the weird odor he’d breathed in wasn’t going to haunt him later on. “Everything been quiet so far?”
    Mickey waved a hand around the plaza. “What you see here is what you’ve got. Last night was enough excitement for ten years, at least. You plan on rescuing any more cats?”
    Obviously word had gotten around the station. He wondered if the old lady had called Campos. Now that Mickey knew, he would milk it for every drop. Mickey had razzed Dalton from the moment he’d joined the force. It wasn’t hazing. He knew Dalton could take it, and dish it right back.
    “If you start showing your face around during my shift, there’ll be more than cats running onto rooftops,” Dalton said.
    “We can’t all be pretty boys. Since you’re here to stay, I’m going to take a quick ride into Amagansett and circle back in an hour. Try not to stir things up while I’m gone.”
    Dalton gave him a half salute and watched him pull away.
    One of the things he had to do was check in at the beach and make sure no wackos had entered the park to see where the top-trending murder had taken place. He could count on one hand the number of locals that would do such a thing, but with so many tourists in town, you never knew who was skulking about. What the hell was people’s obsession with death and dismemberment?
    Turning into Shadmoor State Park and entering under the canopy of trees that lined the gravel drive, he rolled down his window and cut the engine. Before he cruised all the way down to the beach, he listened for voices or movement. Since the car was at the top of an incline, his plan was to glide down in neutral and hit the lights and siren the second he pulled up behind any nocturnal sightseers. That momentary look of shock and unabashed terror, especially if they were teens out for an illegal party, was one of the perks of the job.
    The only sound that came into the window was the chittering of cattails swaying in the breeze and the relentless crash of the surf below.
    “No fun for you,” he said, turning the ignition and pulling behind the dunes. The abandoned Chevy had been towed to impound some time in the afternoon.
    He got out and saw the yellow crime scene tape that had been wrapped around upturned metal trash bins, forming a ring around last night’s horror. The ME had even shoveled all of the sand that had been stained with blood into big, black bags. If it weren’t for the tape, anyone walking by wouldn’t even know two people had been brutally torn apart just twenty-four hours ago.
    Standing with his hands on his hips, he took a deep breath. It was a humid night. Looking up, he saw