Sympathy For The Devil Read Free Page A

dry. She licked her lips, tried to find her voice. “Buy you a beer?”
    His lips parted to speak when the door to the Bar & Grill opened. Noise spilled out, as did people. He snapped his mouth closed and turned his head away.
    Natasha glanced over her shoulder to see a couple exiting the restaurant, arm in arm, chuckling. She swung back, but the other man had left. A glance both left and right down the street, and she found no sign of him.
    Out-of-towners are weird .
    Well, she’d just have to buy herself a beer. With a sigh, Tash headed back inside for one more drink before heading home.

 
     
     
    Chapter Two
     
     
    Laced up and sports bra keeping her ‘assets’ in place, Natasha set out at five-thirty in the morning for her daily jog. Her black hair was tied up high, springy curls bouncing against the back of her neck. Though she wore earphones and had her iPod pinned to her cropped yoga pants, it wasn’t turned on—pretending to listen to music kept most people from trying to talk to her, but enabled her to ensure she was aware of any threats.
    South of her apartment ran fields and lightly wooded areas, Hastings Creek running along the outskirts of town. She varied her path day-to-day and found Saturday was usually the best time to run through that area—it tended to be quiet, most residents sleeping in on the weekend.
    She followed a narrow trail through a field, tall grass swishing at her sides, settling comfortably into an easy nine-minute mile. Sun was waking to the east but not enough to shine gold over the grass; for now everything had a cool blue hue. Mornings were deceptive, giving no hint of the dead heat approaching in just a few hours.
    Trees rose ahead, the well-worn path running through them. Tash continued on, though the sound of voices, dulled by her earphones, slowed her steps. She frowned, peering ahead and picking through the trees. Lights flashed faintly, the woods blocking out much of it.
    But the lights were definitely red and blue.
    She pulled out her earphones, tucked them around her neck, and sped up, cutting a jagged path left through the trees toward the growing sounds of people. Figures were moving back and forth, the swirl of a police car light growing brighter.
    Twigs cracked under her sneakers and her heart hammered harder even as she slowed down. Police officers ducked back and forth under bright yellow tape, heading to and from the creek. Cop cars were parked as near as they could get, along with an ambulance, but all vehicles were still a dozen yards away.
    Tash went right, not stepping out of the trees just yet but wanting to get closer to whatever was going down. Yellow tape sectioned off a large space leading down to the water. She spotted the coroner crouched low, looking over something she couldn’t see.
    Though, shot in the dark, it’s a body .
    It wouldn’t be the first time someone drowned in the creek—there were stories, of course, used as cautionary tales for kids in town. But there was a lot of foot traffic for a drowning this time.
    She inched closer, slipping quietly through the woods. The ground sloped downward and she braced her hands against tree trunks, as tumbling in the water would be sure to get her caught—
    “Whitaker!”
    She yelped, lost her balance, landed on her ass and slid three feet downward before digging her heels into the dirt and stopping.
    Steps trundled over and she scrambled back up, slipping once more before gaining her feet again. She stood straight, smoothed her hair, and was pretty sure she streaked dirt over her forehead.
    Deputy Chief Perry planted his hands on his hips and stared down at her.
    “Just out for a jog,” she said, indicating her hair and attire, and batting her eyelashes innocently.
    He didn’t buy it.
    Perry was a tall, reedy man whose hat always looked like it was about to slip from his head and thick mustache twitched when he was irritated. He was in full uniform this morning, the sight of him always throwing