Portrait in Death Read Free Page A

scanner reads the code, then... Crap, this one's busted."
    "I told you it was busted."
    With some dignity, Poole straightened, and stared at Remke with his blackened eyes. "The lock and seal's busted. Kids do that sometimes. It ain't my damn fault. Who the hell knows why kids do the shit they do? Probably busted it last night, dumped some dead cat inside from the smell of it."
    "I'm not paying because your locks are defective," Remke began.
    "Mr. Remke," Eve warned. "Save it. It's unlocked, unsealed?" she asked Poole.
    "Yeah. Now I'm gonna have to call a crew down here for cleanup. Damn kids." He started to pry up the lid, but Eve slapped a hand down on his.
    "Would you step back, please. Peabody?"
    The smell was already making her queasy, but Peabody knew it was about to get worse. "Wish I hadn't had that egg pocket on the way here."
    Eve got a grip on the lid, shook her head at her aide. "You eat that crap? What's wrong with you?"
    "They're pretty good, really. And it's a quick fix." She sucked in a breath, held it. Nodded. Together they pushed up the heavy lid.
    The stench of death poured out.
    She'd been crammed into the organic side of the bin. Only half her face showed. Eve could see her eyes had been green-a sharp, bottle green. And she'd been young, probably pretty.
    Death, spurred on by the heat, had bloated her obscenely.
    "What the hell did they put in there?" Poole pushed up, looked inside. Then immediately stumbled away to retch.
    "Call it in, Peabody. Nadine's on her way. She got hung up in traffic, or she'd be here by now. I want you to keep her and her camera back. She'll give you lip, but you keep this block clear."
    "Somebody's in there." All the anger had drained from Remke's face. He simply stared at Eve with horrified eyes. "A person."
    "I'm going to need you to go inside, Mr. Remke. All of you. I'll be in to speak with you shortly."
    "I'll look." He had to clear his throat. "I might-if it's someone from the neighborhood, I might know... If it'll help, I'll look."
    "It's hard," she told him, but gestured him over.
    His face was pale, but he stepped up. He kept his eyes closed for a moment, then set his teeth, opened them. Even the faint hint of color drained out of his cheeks.
    "Rachel." He fought not to gag, and stumbled back. "Oh God. Oh God. It's Rachel-I don't know her last name. She, Jesus, Jesus, she worked at the 24/7 across the street. She was a kid." Tears began to track down his white face, and he turned away to cover it. "Twenty, twenty-one, tops. College student. She was always studying."
    "Go inside, Mr. Remke. I'll take care of her now."
    "She was just a kid." He swiped at his face. "What kind of an animal does that to a kid?"
    She could have told him there were all sorts of animals, animals more vicious, more deadly than anything in nature. But she said nothing as he walked to Poole.
    "Come on inside." He laid a hand on Poole's shoulder. "Come inside where it's cool. I'll get you some water."
    "Peabody, field kit's in the car."
    Turning back to the body, she clipped the recorder onto her lapel. "All right, Rachel," she murmured. "Let's get to work. Record on. Victim is female, Caucasian, approximately twenty years of age."
    ***
    She had the barricades up, and the uniforms who responded keeping the curious behind them. Once she had the body, the bin, the surrounding area on record, she sealed up and prepared to climb into the bin.
    She spotted the Channel 75 van at the end of the block. Nadine would be steaming, Eve thought, from more than the humidity. She'd just have to wait her turn.
    The next twenty minutes were grisly.
    "Sir." Peabody offered a bottle of water as Eve climbed out.
    "Thanks." She glugged down ten ounces before taking a breath, but couldn't quite wash the taste out of her mouth. She used a second bottle on her hands. "Keep those guys on ice." She nodded toward the deli. "I'm going to deal with Nadine first."
    "Did you get an ID?"
    "Her prints popped. Rachel Howard,