Burn Read Free Page B

her?”
    “Seen her when she came in and filed her second complaint. Ordinary looking bitch, says she’s some kinda writer. Moved here recently from Orlando. Tell you the truth, she doesn’t look worth all the trouble. I mean, why’s this Brant even care about her? Why’s he want to waste his time? You can tell by looking at her she’s a loser that’ll dig her own grave soon enough.”
    “I don’t know Brant’s motive,” Carver said. “I’m not even sure he’s actually harassing her. Are you sure?”
    “Yeah, I guess so. I figure the guy’s burning and wants to fuck or kill her or both. I seen it before. I also figure she’s the type that did something stupid and’s got it coming to her. Probably deep down she even wants it. Women are like that, you know. Most of them, anyway.”
    “I’m dazzled by your psychological insight.”
    “It’s from when I worked the sex crime unit, taking statements from rape victims.”
    “Have you talked to Brant?”
    “Not personally. Couple of uniforms who took Marla Cloy’s calls talked to him. He denies he’s out to get her. They all deny it. Hell, I’d deny it too.”
    “Maybe he’s telling the truth.”
    “Hah! Maybe I am.”
    “What are you doing to protect her?”
    “Nothing. If the restraining order comes through, we’ll run a few extra patrols past her house at night. You know we don’t have the manpower to stand guard over every scheming cunt that claims she’s being stalked. What we do is, when the guy pesters her again, we take him into custody and the courts nail him to the wall.”
    “What if it’s too late and he’s already done whatever it is he’s planning?”
    “Well, that’s how it usually works out. We get the call after it all happens, then we go there and clean up the mess.”
    “Seems kind of counterproductive.”
    “Yeah, but that’s the kind of trouble women cause in this world. If they learned to dress and act with a little more good sense and respect for their husbands and boyfriends, they wouldn’t all of a sudden find themselves in such deep shit they need the police. But I guess it’s human nature, genetics or some such crap. In my job, you learn to be philosophical about these things or they drive you nuts. You know that.”
    Carver knew it, but he didn’t have quite the same slant on the problem as McGregor. “You don’t seem to have much concern for Marla Cloy.”
    “Oh, if we get the call in time, we’ll save her fucking ass. I think that’s concern enough.”
    The clang of hammer on steel became even louder, as did the ratchety scream of the drill. Carver was getting a headache, and his clothes were clinging to his perspiring flesh. It was truly miserable in the stifling office; he was glad McGregor was stuck there. “What do you know about Joel Brant?” he asked, noticing a bead of sweat dangling from the tip of McGregor’s nose.
    “The guy that wants to plant her?” The drop of sweat plummeted to his already stained tie to join coffee and gravy and maybe blood on the polyester. Clang! Clang! went the hammer. Eeeeek! screamed the drill. The workmen were persistent, probably suffering in the heat themselves and eager to finish the job. “From what I can recall, he builds houses or something. Doesn’t have a record of violence, but that doesn’t mean much in these cases.” Clang! Clang! Eeeeek! “Guy’s in his forties, probably got the hots for this Marla Cloy, then she did him dirty and now he wants to get even. Way the world works. Maybe if we knew what this cunt did to him, we’d think she deserved whatever it is he wants to do to her.”
    “You ever talk to him?”
    “Not my department. Uniforms talked to him. Gave him the usual speech, I suppose. He hasn’t done anything yet, so we can’t charge him with a crime.”
    Clang! Clang! Eeeeek! “What about Marla Cloy? What if she does something to him?”
    “That’s his problem. If she snaps and picks up a gun or knife, or if he comes at her