Dead Write: A Forensic Handwriting Mystery Read Free Page A

would just as soon put a hit out on you as look at you. He won’t appreciate your scooping up his client.”
    “She’s not his client anymore, and I didn’t take her away from him; she called me. Hey, I’m not worried about Andy Nicholson; his only weapon is words.” She began to recite in a singsong voice, “Sticks and stones may break my bones but names will never hurt me.”
    Jovanic removed his hand and sat up, throwing off the blankets. His scowl sent a clear signal that he didn’t appreciate her lame attempt at humor. He stood up and reached for his shorts, pulled on a T-shirt. “Claudia, for god’s sake, haven’t you had enough shit in your life lately? Do you really need to do this right now?”
    She knew he was talking about the discovery of her friend’s body. His words were like a bucket of icy water, dousing her enthusiasm for the job.
    What she had gone through had left her feeling that she’d lost any semblance of control over her life. It didn’t matter how much she tried to push away the grotesque images of the bloated body she had stumbled across; they nipped endlessly at the periphery of her consciousness like a little yapping dog. She thought this must be what schizophrenia was like, battling voices that wouldn’t be silenced.
    Jovanic had been aware of her depression and anger since the murder, but she didn’t want anyone, including him, to see how nakedly exposed she felt. She’d been there before.
    A flash of memory: large hands pulling her where she didn’t want to go; threatening— I’ll hurt you if you don’t do what I say.
    As if she hadn’t been hurt anyway. She pulled the covers up around her neck and squeezed her eyes shut, as if doing so would protect her.
    “Claudia?” Jovanic was leaning over her and he sounded concerned. He sat down on the edge of the bed, encircling her in his arms, holding her safe.
    As if she could ever really be safe.
    “Baby, you don’t have to go to New York right now,” he said, letting her know that despite her best efforts, he could see through her with his detective’s eyes. His lover’s eyes.
    She wanted to answer that she would call Grusha Olinetsky and cancel the assignment; that she would stay here and let him take care of her. But she knew that if she gave in now, she would never be able to stand on her own again. So instead, she said in a tight voice, “Andy Nicholson isn’t going to hurt me and there isn’t any danger in this job; it’s an exciting opportunity.”
    “Did Olinetsky tell you what kind of mistakes Nicholson made?” Jovanic prodded, refusing to let it go.
    Claudia lifted a bare shoulder in an elaborately casual shrug. “It doesn’t matter. I’ll find out when I get there.”

Chapter 2
    “But why do you have to go?” Annabelle Giordano practically stamped her foot.
    “I’ve already told you,” Claudia said, keeping her voice level. “It’s a job I can’t afford to turn down right now.”
    Her young ward turned a sullen face away, arms crossed in a defiant pose that reminded Claudia of herself at fourteen.
    “But what’s going to happen to me? You know I can’t go back to the Sorensen Academy after . . .” The girl’s voice began to tremble and she shut her mouth tight, determined not to let anyone see her cry.
    Claudia gave her shoulders a quick squeeze, knowing she wouldn’t accept anything that might look like sentiment. “I’ll be gone only a few days. You know I’m not going anywhere without making arrangements for you, kiddo. And we can talk on the phone every day.”
    Annabelle shrugged, feigning indifference. “I don’t care. I’ll just go stay with my friends.”
    Muzzling the temptation to argue that the gang-bangers Annabelle used to hang out with were not her friends, Claudia said, “I’m going to ask Pete if you can stay with him and Monica so you won’t miss any school. I thought it might even be fun for you two.” Pete was Claudia’s brother. His daughter Monica and