Hidden Fire, Kobo Read Free Page A

her fingers. "Let's go,
gentlemen." Two uniforms came over with a body bag.
    Randy glanced back to the perimeter of
the site. Reporters, both print and television, had gathered behind the tape.
He got on his radio. "Brody. They'll be bringing the body out soon. Keep
the newshounds behind the line. The victim is a person, not a story."
    "Will do, sir."
    "Did any reporters get to the site
and see the body before you secured it?" Randy asked.
    "No, sir. They got here after I did.
They tried, but I wouldn't let them through."
    "Very good, Brody." He turned
to Charlotte. "Can you pull your van around to that clearing?" He
pointed to a spot about twenty-five yards from where they stood. "Kind of
like the back door."
    "No problem. I'll go throw the
reporters a bone and keep them occupied while we get the body loaded." She
pulled off her latex gloves and stowed them in a pocket of her blue jumpsuit.
    "Thanks, Doc." If anyone
respected the dead, she did. Until they had an ID on the body, the field was
wide open. He set off to find the county deputies. Maybe they had information
he could use.
    "Hey, Jim," he said when he
found the small cluster of deputies standing outside the tape. "What gets
you out from behind your desk?" He'd worked with Jim Eldridge before the
man had been promoted to lieutenant, and if things didn't fall in place
quickly, he might be needing county help.
    "Randy." The man nodded and
stepped away from his colleagues. He lowered his voice. "Looks ugly. Not
your typical Pine Hills crime."
    Randy couldn't tell if Eldridge meant he
thought the Pine Hills police weren't up to handling a high-profile violent
crime, or if he was sincerely offering to help. He decided to go with the
latter until there was a reason to think otherwise. If Eldridge wanted to diss
his small-town force, he would have done it loud and clear in front of his men.
This was no time to get into a pissing contest.
    "Agreed. I'd like to close this one
out fast. Anything you have, I'm open to it. Can you get your CSI team out
here?"
    "Already called them, at Connor's
request, Detweiler. Kovak approved it. Or is this your case?"
    "To be honest, we haven't discussed
it. Kovak can have the lead if he wants. Hell, we don't even have an ID yet."
    "Yeah, no face can be a problem. You
have any missing persons reports that match?"
    "I've been in 'Frisco for six weeks.
Haven't had time to hit the station for updates."
    Eldridge rubbed the back of his neck. "I'll
check on my end and let you know. The CSIs should be here soon. Need anything
else tonight?"
    Randy hesitated, but homicides in Pine
Hills were rare—so rare he could only remember three in his ten years on the
force—and none was a premeditated murder. His stomach did a little twist as he
remembered being responsible for a shooting death himself. It was justified,
since the man he killed was robbing a bank and was going to shoot a hostage,
but he'd still taken a life.
    He shook off the memory. "Our guys
are out knocking on doors. If you've got any manpower to spare on your side of
the line to see if anyone heard something, that would help."
    "Not a problem." Eldridge
turned to his men. "Hatch, Frasier—canvass the neighbors on our side of
the property. Report directly to Detweiler and keep me apprised of anything you
find."
    Two men nodded and peeled off, leaving
Eldridge with one other deputy. "All right, Claussen," Eldridge said.
"You can get back to work. And I need your nightly reports on my desk by
nine tomorrow."
    "Yes, sir," Claussen said.
    After the man left, Eldridge shook his
head. "Decent cop, but he hates the paperwork. He's taken twelve calls
already tonight. Can't seem to get it through his head that without the
reports, he's keeping everyone in a vacuum."
    "I hear you. At least everything's
computerized now." He extended his hand. Eldridge's grip was firm with no
attempt at one-upmanship.
    Eldridge departed and drove off in the
last county car as Kovak's car pulled up. The Pine Hills