Cut and Run Read Free Page B

what you saw when you entered the house.”
    â€œI saw Davey’s body, lying in a pool of blood in the living room. It looked like there had been a fight. I didn’t touch a damn thing.”
    â€œYou didn’t check him for a pulse, see if he was still breathing?”
    Burkitt’s eyes narrowed. “I’ve seen my share of corpses, Detective. I knew Davey was dead the second I laid eyes on him, and I know enough to not disturb a crime scene.”
    â€œRight. Are we gonna find your prints on anything in that house other than the doorknob?”
    â€œSure. I’ve been there before. Check the whisky glasses in the rolltop desk he used as a bar—I doubt he ever washed them.”
    â€œAny idea who would want Davey dead?”
    Burkitt grimaced. “Six months ago I would have sworn the man didn’t have an enemy in the world—and that’s a rare thing to say about a journalist. Hi was good at making people laugh, and people loved him for it. He got more mail than anyone else at the paper, and it was all positive.”
    â€œSo what happened six months ago?”
    â€œHe signed a book deal. Some kind of crime novel, with a really loopy cast of characters. I thought it was going to be typical Davey stuff, but then I found out he was doing a ton of research and interviews. He wanted people to take his writing more seriously, so he thought he’d ground the book in reality, base it on actual people and events.”
    â€œYou think some of the people he was planning on using in the book weren’t too happy with him?”
    â€œThat’s what Davey said. He claimed his life had been threatened more than once.”
    â€œBy who?”
    Burkitt shrugged. “No idea. He was being real secretive about the book, wouldn’t give me any details. You want to know who was in it, you’ll have to read it for yourself.”
    â€œI’ll do that,” said Tripp.
    Â 
    Many drivers reported seeing the balloon drifting over the highway, but none of them had noticed anything fall out of the basket. A few people had spotted the craft earlier over the Everglades, but nobody saw anyone leave it either.
    Calleigh talked briefly to the FAA investigator, a thin, harried-looking man named Pinlon who’d driven up along the shoulder, bypassing the crawling line and getting more than a few angry honks in response.
    â€œGunshot?” Pinlon said, shaking his head and entering data in a PDA. “That’s a new one. Better than what I usually get, though. Most balloon fatalities happen when they hit power lines. Pow, zap, game over.”
    â€œThis was more of a blam, crash, traffic jam,” said Calleigh. “Fewer fireworks, but more angry commuters.”
    â€œThey’d be a lot angrier if they got home and their power was out.” Pinlon sighed and ran a hand through his thinning hair. “Anyway, seems pretty open and shut to me.”
    â€œLooks like it, I know. But we’re not so sure…”
    Pinlon talked to a few more people and then supervised the loading of the balloon itself onto a truck. “We’ll have to go over the whole thing inch by inch,” he told Horatio. “They may be big and slow, but they’re still aircraft. The FAA won’t sign off on this until I hand in a full report.”
    â€œLet us know if you find anything unusual,” said Horatio. “We’ll do the same on our end.”
    â€œWhat’s next?” Calleigh asked after Pinlon had left.
    â€œWe visit the launch site,” said Horatio. “Mister Greer tested negative for GSR—let’s see if the rest of his story checks out.”
    Â 
    Frank Tripp knocked on Natalia’s door around two. “Got a minute?”
    She looked up from her monitor and giggled.
    Frank looked nonplussed. “’Scuse me?”
    â€œSorry, Frank. But you were right—this guy’s funny. ”
    â€œSo that’s what you