Raven: A political thriller Read Free

odor, hanging heavy in the
air. Don had smelt it once before when he investigated a burnt-out apartment
building a few years back. Once you got a whiff of a burnt body, the smell
never left you.
    Fred couldn’t take it any longer and turned away from the car. “Smells
like my mother’s burnt beef liver she used to force me to eat,” he said, before
bending over and throwing up the contents of his stomach. The night of drinking
was finally taking its toll on him.
    “It’s the worst way to go, but it looks like she was dead before it
was torched.”
    Fred choked again, but was able to control the sensation this time. He
cleaned off his mouth and then walked away to get a breath of fresh air.
    O’Reilly walked over to Don. “Your partner’s got a weak stomach.”
    “Give him time,” Don said and then turned back to the body. “Why blast
her in the face so identification is out of the question and then torch the
car? Why not just throw the body in the river?”
    Fred glanced up at Don. “Why did you say her ?”
    “Look at the body size, and I think those are boobs,” Don said as he
pointed to the body. He couldn’t believe he had to tell Fred something so
obvious.
    “O’Reilly took out a cigarette and quickly lit up. “I wish I knew the
reasoning behind a lot of these killings. Truth is, they never make sense in
the end.”
    Don glanced at the ground and noticed a cigarette butt in the puddle
of water near the Mustang, and then he quickly turned to O’Reilly. “That’s not
your butt, is it?” Don asked as he first looked at O’Reilly’s brand and then
stooped down and looked at the odd brand of the cigarette on the ground.
    “No,” O’Reilly confirmed.
    Don motioned up to Fred. “Bag this,” he said, handing Fred the butt.
    Fred quickly bagged it, while Don got up and started walking over to a
streetlight near an alley where the gas can was discovered. He glanced around.
He had a clear view of the Mustang. When he glanced into the alley, he noticed
a few more cigarette butts on the ground.
    “Hey Fred, you got to bag these also. And hurry, it’s going to rain
soon.”
    Don walked back to O’Reilly. “Have you run an ID on the car yet?” he
asked.
    “Yeah, it’s registered to a Raven VanBuren. Don’t know if that’s her
in the car yet. But it doesn’t look good.”
    “Let me know when you get a positive ID on her. For now, we’ll have to
assume it’s her.”
    O’Reilly smiled. “Sure looks like overkill to me, though.”
    “Somebody must have really had it in for the woman,” Fred added.
    Don turned to O’Reilly. “Do you have an address on the broad?”
    O’Reilly nodded and then flipped his notebook. He ripped out a page
and handed it to Don.
    Don glanced at the address and then whistled. “Nice part of town,” was
all he said, with raised eyebrows.
    Don put the note in his little notebook and walked away. Fred followed
close behind.
    Don turned to him. “I thought I told you to be quiet.”
    “I never got too close for him to smell my breath.”
    “You’re lucky this time. When I tell you to do something, you do it.
You understand?”
    Don quickly got into the squad. Fred took one last look at the Mustang
and then got into the passenger side. He was having a hard time reading Don. It
seemed the harder he tried, the worse their relationship was becoming.
    It didn’t take long before sheets of rain pelted the
windshield. The wipers were almost hypnotic as Don fought the urge to shut his
eyes, aware it would be a few hours before he would be able to call it a night.
When he saw the Golden Arches he quickly made a pit stop, knowing full well he
would need a jolt of caffeine to keep his engines going. It was times like this
he hated being a homicide detective. Most crimes he investigated happened in
the dead of night, a time when most regular folks are snuggled in for the
night.

Chapter 3
     
    Don feared it was going to be one of those all-nighters through no fault
of his