Santorini Caesars Read Free

coins. Demonstrators, especially the rock- and bomb-throwing kind, had long ago learned that losing your ID in the middle of a riot could lead to unexpected visits from the police.
    But they did find a possible lead neatly tucked into the bottom of one of her sneakers: a Starbucks customer loyalty card. Slim, but something.
    Andreas hoped to identify the girl without turning to the media for help. The press would go wild with the story, some inevitably playing the angle of “police ineptitude” for all it was worth. Still, it was only a matter of time—hours at most—before the victim’s friends and family started to wonder where she was, and once they knew, charges of “murder coverup,” “conspiracy,” “blood on their hands,” and every other anti-establishment, firebrand accusation would blister GADA’s walls.
    Andreas drew in and let out a deep breath. He knew there was nothing he could do about any of that. All he wanted was to let the girl’s parents know what had happened to their child before the media made her a cause célèbre .
    ***
    The coroner charged through the battered pair of swinging doors and headed straight for where Andreas sat.
    â€œYou, my friend, are in deep shit,” said the coroner, shaking his finger at Andreas.
    Andreas stared up at him. “What are you talking about?”
    â€œBecause you’re a cop and once this gets out, every cop’s going to be in deep shit. That girl wasn’t just shot. She was executed by professional killers.”
    â€œCould you run that by me a little slower?”
    The coroner dropped onto a chair next to Andreas. “She was approximately twenty years old, well-nourished, well-groomed, athletic, and yes, attractive. She died from multiple gunshot wounds. Four into her heart, three into her spine. If the reports of the shooting are correct, she and her pursuers had been running all-out until the killers stopped at the last instant to take aim at their moving target. That sort of shooting takes terrific marksmanship skills.”
    â€œTell me about the shot groupings.”
    â€œAll shots within a group were inside a small fist of each other. One grouping came from one gun, one from another.”
    â€œYou’re certain of that?”
    He nodded. “It’s Ballistics’ call, but I’ve seen enough bullet wounds to tell that the solid point bullets that took out her spine were designed to shatter bone, and the hollow point heart rounds expanded in soft tissue.”
    â€œThat doesn’t sound like a spontaneous, error-in-judgment shooting to me.”
    The coroner nodded. “Precisely. Her killers had assigned, specific tasks. One shooter brought her to the ground by taking out her spine, the other made certain to end her life by stopping her heart.”
    Andreas stared at the lab doors. “You know, Doc, I never met a cop who could shoot that well.”
    â€œWhat are you saying?”
    â€œI wish I knew. But if the shooters always meant to kill the girl, why did they wait until she’d reached the gates? They could have done it anywhere, anytime while chasing her, but they didn’t start shooting until she was in front of a crowd cheering her on with surveillance cameras filming everything.”
    The coroner nodded. “Yes, I’m afraid there looks to be another agenda operating here. But the media won’t take the time to see it. And the demonstrators won’t want to.”
    Andreas exhaled through his lips. “I know.”
    â€œAs I said, you’re in deep shit.”
    Andreas’ phone rang. He looked at the name of the caller. “Yianni, what’s up? Please make it good news.”
    â€œWell, Chief, it’s news. We have an ID on the victim.”
    Andreas sat up in the chair. “Terrific.”
    â€œI checked out the Starbucks by the university, told them I’d found the card and wanted to make sure it got