I'll Never Let You Go (Morgans of Nashville) Read Free Page B

also staring at him, Alex moved toward the yellow tape. The uniformed officer didn’t bother to raise the tape for Alex. Uncaring and accustomed to this kind of chill, Alex ducked under the tape and crossed the cracked and potted asphalt. If he really cared about their opinion, which he didn’t, he’d have asked them to explain their resentment. Like them, he had joined the force to catch bad guys. The only difference was that he tracked bad guys who hid behind a uniform. If he cared . . .
    By the building’s entrance stood a tall, broad-shouldered man powerfully built, and wearing a perpetual frown. He wore a knit cap and a thick, black, well-worn overcoat that covered dark pants and heavy muddied boots. He was Alex’s older brother, Deke Morgan, and he headed up the Nashville Police Department’s Homicide Squad.
    “Deke,” he said.
    His brother turned, the scowl on his face easing a fraction. “Thanks for coming.”
    “This is a first. A murder scene?” As an agent with the Tennessee Bureau of Investigation, it had been a couple of years since he’d shifted away from murder investigations to internal affairs. “What do you have?”
    Deke handed Alex a set of black rubber gloves. “A burned torso. No hands, no feet. No head.” Each word puffed out in cold clouds as he spoke.
    Alex’s tall, rawboned frame topped six three. Deke had been gifted with strength and bulk, whereas Alex enjoyed speed and agility. Despite physical differences, each matched the other in raw determination.
    Alex yanked on the gloves. “There’s a homeless problem down here. And normally, the death of a vagrant doesn’t rate this kind of attention.”
    They’d both been in police work long enough to understand that politics followed, even in death.
    “Not so sure this guy is homeless.”
    Deke clicked on a heavy-duty flashlight, and the two moved into the building. The scent of gasoline and charred flesh hung heavy in the room. In the far right corner, portable lights glared over the blackened remains of something that didn’t resemble anything human. Fire could do that. Melt away all traces of humanity.
    One forensic technician dressed in a jumpsuit and a jacket shot pictures of the body while another sketched the scene.
    Alex stared closely at the body. In an intense fire, flames ate away the hands and feet first. “Extremities burned by fire?”
    “Dismembered. Bone cuts are clean and precise.”
    Interesting. “Cause of death?”
    “Gunshot wound to the chest. No large bloodstains, which makes me think murder and dismemberment happened at another location.”
    “Male or female?” Alex asked, his interest growing.
    “Appears to be male,” he said. “Someone tossed gasoline or diesel on him and then set him on fire. The flames burned quickly and hot, ate up his skin before it fizzled out.”
    “Clothes?”
    “Body was stripped.”
    “Any sign of the extremities or head?”
    “No. I’ve got an officer coming with a dog in the morning to search the area.”
    “Who found the body?”
    “A couple of homeless guys called. They didn’t give names but said where the body could be found. Officer O’Connor responded and reported it.”
    “No identification on or near the body?”
    “No.”
    “Time of death estimates?”
    “Don’t know yet. Cold is making that a tough call. Could be a couple of days if not more.”
    “I’m surprised the fire wasn’t reported.”
    “We had that snowstorm last week. Could have been missed, and judging by the looks, the building contained the fire. I expect the medical examiner will be able to tell us quite a bit more.”
    The facts processed, Alex met his brother’s gaze. “Why am I here for a dead guy who may or may not be homeless?”
    A smile flickered on Deke’s bulldog face. “Always warm and fuzzy.”
    Small talk wasted time. “I’m trying.”
    That jostled a laugh. “Right.” Deke shined the light toward a distant corner filled with rubble, where moonlight leaked in