Read Blind Rage for Free Online Page B

loved St. Paul and had been happily doing his work in the cellar for years. Before she could give him something to do, she had to ask a delicate question. “What can you do?”
    “I beg your pardon.”
    She got up and walked over to him. “Not to be insulting, but considering your current state…”
    “My current state?” He reached over and punched on his monitor.
    “You can use a computer?”
    “I am not a caveman, missy.”
    She stood at his elbow and watched him log on. “Your password still works.”
    “I’ve been online since my untimely and utterly tragic demise.”
    “What do you do? Play solitaire?”
    “Is that what you do with government equipment, Agent Saint Clare?”
    “No. I look for deals on eBay.”
    He looked over his shoulder at her. “I sincerely hope you’re pulling my leg.”
    She put her hand on the back of his chair. “I’d like to keep going on with my cockamamie housekeeping. While I’m doing that, how about you do some poking around online?”
    “What am I looking for?”
    “Fetish Web sites. Fetish clubs, especially local ones.”
    “Disgusting,” he said. “I’m going to need a bath myself when I’m finished.”
    She went back to her own desk and sat down. “Dirty work, but somebody’s got to do it, and I’d rather that somebody be you instead of me.”
     
     
     
    WHEN THEIR ASAC landed in the cellar with the files, Bernadette’s partner vanished from his chair. Garcia deposited the armload of paperwork on Creed’s desk and dropped down into the dead agent’s seat. Bernadette stared at her boss.
    “What?” asked Garcia, glaring back.
    “Nothing,” said Bernadette.
    “Bullshit,” he said. “You’re looking at me like I have a juicy zit on the middle of my forehead.”
    “I am not,” she said.
    Garcia realized where he was sitting and jumped out of the chair. “Was he just here?”
    “Who? What are you talking about?”
    He walked over to her desk. “Has Ruben been around lately?”
    She wasn’t sure which Garcia would find more distasteful: that she’d tapped a dead dude for assistance, or that the research she was asking Creed to conduct involved porn. Both were rather unsavory, so she decided it was best to keep mum about the whole thing. “Agent Creed’s been keeping a low profile,” she said.
    Garcia shoved his hands into his coat pockets. “Have you ever thought about, uh…getting rid of him permanently? I mean, having him hanging around here must creep you out.”
    She thought Garcia was the one who was spooked. “How would you suggest I send him into the light? An exorcism?”
    “I don’t think the bureau would appreciate a religious ceremony of that nature being conducted in a federal building.” He glanced around the room. “Besides, I suppose we still need the strange bastard. There’re some cases he left hanging. Have you ever asked him about those, by the way?”
    She decided to bait her boss. “He said he won’t help with dick until you pay him for the vacation time he still has on the books.”
    “He’s dead. Why does he need vacation pay? Tell him to file a complaint with the ghost grievance committee.”
    “Maybe we should get back to matters of the recently deceased,” she said. “Have you got the scarf?”
    “I couldn’t put my hands on it this morning. How about I drop it off at your place tonight?”
    She wondered if he was fishing for a dinner invitation, even though the previous night had ended on a tense note. “I’ve got a couple of steaks in the fridge. We could cook them up and go over the files together.”
    He studied the stack he’d dumped on Creed’s desk. “You might need an extra set of eyes to get through that mountain.” His attention shifted to her face. “On the other hand, maybe you and I need to avoid after-hours—”
    “A working dinner,” she said quickly. “Strictly a working dinner.”
    He paused, then said slowly, “I’ll get back to you on that. Depends on how the day goes