Faces of Evil [4] Rage Read Free

belongings she’d rolled into Birmingham with. Well, except for the dress and the turquoise pumps she’d been wearing last night. The pumps would just have to do until she had time to shop.
    “You need a cup of coffee to go?” Lori asked as she headed for the kitchen with her own mug. Her Five Points studio was one big room with a small bath and closet carved out of the already-tight floor space. Any level of privacy was basically impossible.
    “That’d be great.” Jess stepped into her pumps while she picked through the bag of undergarments, cosmetics, and necessities she’d purchased at Walmart late last night. Living out of a plastic bag was no fun, and though Lori insisted she was happy to have her as a guest, Jess was anxious to get a place of her own. She liked Lori a lot, and was proud to have the detective on her team, but staying on Lori’s couch was going to get old, fast. Maybe it had something to do with being in her forties and set in her ways, but having alone time felt immensely important, especially when she hadn’t had any in about forty-eight hours. She needed her space. Along with a new wardrobe and almost everything else a woman required to operate on a day-to-day basis.
    Unfortunately, all of that would have to wait.
    She had a homicide to get to.
    Shady Creek Drive, 8:30 a.m.
    “Whoa.” Lori surveyed the crowd gathered as she turned off Columbiana Road. “This is going to be complicated and”—she blew out a big breath—“messy.”
    News vans cluttered the intersection of Columbiana and Shady Creek. Birmingham Police Department cruisers lined the street on either side of where they needed to turn. This tragedy had befallen one of their own and a show of strength was expected. The gesture was heartfelt, but there was no place for crowds at a homicide scene. At least not until after complete scene documentation and thorough evidence collection. The potential for contamination and/or loss was far too great with every warm body that entered a crime scene.
    “Do you know Lieutenant Grayson?” His name sounded familiar but Jess couldn’t recall meeting him. She’d been introduced to so many of Birmingham’s finest since her arrival scarcely three weeks ago that she couldn’t say for sure whether she’d met him or not.
    “I’ve seen him around but I don’t really know him.” Lori powered down her window and showed her badge to the uniform controlling access to the block. When he’d waved her through, she went on, “Grayson is with Field Operations, South Precinct.”
    Still didn’t click for Jess.
    “What kind of reputation does he have?” As wrong as it seemed, close family members were always the prime suspects in a case like this until evidence and alibis proved otherwise. Lawrence, aka Larry, Grayson was a cop, so the fundamental steps in a homicide investigation would be no surprise to him.
    “A good one as far as I know. I’ve heard his name a few times when accommodations were handed out.” She glanced at Jess. “If you’re asking me if he would kill his wife, I don’t know him that well, Chief.”
    “I guess that’s something we’ll need to learn.” They were on duty now. Jess was the deputy chief of SPU, Special Problems Unit, and Lori Wells was one of her detectives. Their ability to be friends and step back from those roles as needed fascinated Jess. After nearly two decades doing investigative work, this was her first time to have friends, in the true sense of the word, on the job. She’d certainly never been the houseguest of a coworker.
    Maybe an old dog could learn a new trick.
    The houses along Shady Creek were modest Brady Bunch –style ranches and split-levels, circa the seventies; it was a typical blue-collar neighborhood. Good folks who were forever stuck on the low end of middle class while being overworked and underpaid.
    Crime scene tape circled the yard, using trees and shrubs for support and announcing that bad things had happened to those who