Lethal People: A Donovan Creed Crime Novel Read Free Page A

photos. I seemed to be developing a connection to the poor creature who years ago had found the courage to stare blankly into a police camera lens.
    “What do you say to a woman with two black eyes?” I said.
    Lou shrugged. “I don’t know. What do you say to a woman with two black eyes?”
    “Nothing,” I said. “You already told her twice.”
    Lou nodded. He and I often used dark humor to detach ourselves from the brutality of our profession. “Looks like he told her a hundred,” he said.
    I removed the two photos from the folder and traced Kathleen’s face with my index finger. And then it hit me. I handed the pictures to Lou. “Have our geeks remove the bruises on these and run an age progression to see what she looks like today.”
    He eyed me suspiciously but said nothing.
    “Then compare her to this lady.” I opened my cell phone and clicked through the photos until I found the one I wanted. I handed Lou my phone. “What do you think?” I said.
    He held my cell phone in his right hand and the photos of the younger Kathleen in his left. His eyes went back and forth from the phone to the photos. Then he said, “They could be twins.”
    “I agree,” I said. I took the phone back and started entering some commands on the keys.
    “So who is she?” he asked. “The one in the picture you’re e-mailing me.”
    I shrugged. “Just someone I know. A friend.”
    “The geeks might question this project,” he said.
    “Just tell them we’re trying to fi t a specific girl into a terror cell.”
    He studied the photos of Kathleen some more. “A body double?”
    “Right,” I said. “And, Lou?”
    He looked up. “Yeah?”
    “Tell the geeks I need it yesterday!”
    He sighed. “What else is new?”
    Lou turned to leave.
    “Wait a minute,” I said. “What if Kathleen was not Ken Chapman’s first victim?”
    “You think he slept around during his marriage?”
    “Maybe. Or maybe he dated someone after his divorce, before he met Janet. Can you find out for me?”
    “I’m on it,” Lou said.
    When he left, I turned my attention back to the files. As I read the details in the police reports, the same thought kept running through my head : If I do nothing, a couple of years from now this could be Janet, or even Kimberly .
    I could not believe Janet was planning to marry this bozo.
    I remembered something Kimberly said a month ago when she told me about her mom’s engagement. She said she didn’t believe her mom was in love with Chapman.
    “Why would she marry a guy she doesn’t love?” I’d asked.
    “I think Mom would rather be unhappy than lonely.”

 
     
     
    CHAPTER 2
     
    T he state capitol building in Charleston, West Virginia, is composed of buff Indiana limestone. Its dome rises 293 feet high and is gilded in 23.5-karat gold leaf. I was standing directly below it, in the capitol rotunda, staring at the statue of Senator Robert C. Byrd when I heard her high heels clopping across the marble floor.
    Alison David.
    “Call me Ally,” she said, extending her hand.
    I shook her hand and introduced myself.
    “So,” she said, “what do you think of our capitol building?”
    Ally David had on a navy jacket with three-quarter sleeves and a matching pencil skirt. Her satin tank top featured a scoop neckline that offered the promise of superb cleavage. It took some effort not to drool while admiring the way she put her clothes together.
    “Impressive,” I said. “But I’m confused about the statue.”
    “How so?”
    “Well, I know you can’t toss a cat in West Virginia without hitting a building that has his name on it,” I said. “But I thought you had to be dead at least fifty years before you got a statue.”
    She smiled and gave me a wink. “We West Virginians have a pact with Senator Byrd. He sends us the pork, and we let him name the pigs.”
    Alison David was the type of career woman who, without saying or doing anything out of the ordinary, gave the impression she was a creature