Read Online The Survivors Club by J. Carson Black - Free Book Online Page A

thoughts about hanging up. “What’s your interest in this, Mr. Barkman?”
    “I’m a concerned citizen.”
    Tess said, “Mr. Barkman, do you know anything about this?”
    “You’re not accusing me of anything, are you? Because you don’t have a leg to stand on if you’re trying to pull that intimidation shit.”
    Defensive. Angry. But underneath, she sensed he was gloating. Tess thought he knew more than he was giving away, and she guessed he wanted to show her that he was important, that he knew details about the investigation.
    “Mr. Barkman, I didn’t mean to come off sounding like that. I’m just curious if you have some inside knowledge about this that might be able to help us out.”
    “I might be willing to trade.”
    “Trade?”
    “I’d want all the information you have on the case.”
    “I can’t do that, Mr. Barkman. You’re working for the sheriff’s office in Pima County. You ought to know that I can’t tell you anything. But if you have information that could help us you could—”
    “If you’re not going to wash my hand, I’m not washing yours. You’ll regret this, but that’s your choice.”
    And he hung up.
    Tess stared at the phone. She’d memorized his number from the readout, punched in his number. Got his voice mail.
    She pushed the door open and walked out onto the porch. The air was cool now that the sun was down. Cool enough for a long-sleeved shirt. She hugged herself, staring at the moon sailing above the cut-out hills.
    Closing her eyes, she willed the air to stir behind her, to hear his step, to smell Max’s cologne as he put his hands on her arms and put his face against her neck.
    But Max was far away. In a galaxy far away, a place completely foreign to her.
    A dog barked. Tess shook off the feeling of Max standing beside her, the phantom closeness that made her melt inside.
    Steve Barkman figured into this somehow. Either he was taunting her about his knowledge of her case, or he was trying to pump her for information.
    She brought out her laptop, and under the yellow stain of the porch light she searched for the website of the Arizona Daily Star . She found the article and read it through.
    It was a very short piece, not even an article. More like a paragraph, and it read like a follow-up to an earlier story, probably from the previous day.
    No mention of multiple gunshots.
    Yet Barkman was sure Hanley had sustained massive firepower.
    Why?
    Maybe somebody with Pima County Sheriff’s Office told him. She could picture someone he worked with saying that the man found in Credo was shot up badly.
    She stared at the hill across the way.
    Shot multiple times.
    “Why is it so important to you?” she said to the invisible Steve Barkman. But the only ones who heard her were the stray cat and the crickets and the dark.

CHAPTER 11
    The next morning, Danny pulled into the parking lot the same time as Tess did.
    “Autopsy results,” he called out. “Including photos!” He waggled a thumb drive.
    Inside, they went over the report and the photos.
    The photos were gruesome.
    Tess had taken many photos of George Hanley at the scene. He was only recognizable as a human being by his legs, arms, and the shape of his head.
    “Look at this.” Danny opened up one of the autopsy photos—George Hanley, naked on the autopsy table, his wounds cleaned up and looking as if he’d been attacked by dark red leeches. But this photo focused on Hanley’s lap.
    Tess had looked at and photographed the body. She’d marked evidence, but hadn’t touched him. There was always a risk that her own clothing lint, her own skin or hair follicles, her own DNA, could end up on the victim, especially one as torn up as this one was.
    Tess could see exactly what Hanley looked like on the floor of the cabin. She could see the crime scene techs as they took Hanley away, could run it on a reel in her mind. They almost had to scrape him off the floor of the cabin to get him into the body bag. He was a