Read In the Dead of Night for Free Online

11:00 a.m., I was out the door, having just handed my reports to Matilda. Since my partner supervisors, Becky and Kendra, had already agreed to keep an eye on my team, she let me leave work early. Acute interest glowed within her green eyes, accented by her shiny ebony skin as I said goodbye.
    She’s just dying to know what this is about.
    Fiona would be proud that I haven’t divulged a damned thing…yet.
     
     
     
     
    Chapter Five
     
     
    Division Street near downtown Nashville is home to some of the more famous historic places in the city. At least in terms of the music biz. There are lots of big houses from the early 1900s, with mature magnolias in the manicured front lawns. Over the years, many of these places have since been converted into recording studios and offices for both record labels and management companies alike. All cater to the up and coming artists as well as the established country stars. The very heart and soul of “Music City” lies here beneath the worn pavement.
    Some buildings in this neighborhood are even older, dating from the mid to late 1800s, and NVP has investigated several of these locations. I passed the old Johnson place on the way to the converted Victorian that serves as home for Dickey Rollins Productions. Kind of creepy even in passing…I pictured the hideous half-man, half-something else apparition that followed us throughout both floors of the Johnson house as if it happened yesterday. It’s still very fresh, despite having happened a year ago. All five members in the group at the time had nightmares after the investigation, and Tony still brings it up every now and then.
    Memories of how I almost didn’t make it out alive from Maude Johnson B&B’s attic sent an icy tingle down my spine, despite the ninety degree heat and oppressive humidity engulfing me as I maneuvered my bike around the slower moving traffic. Yeah, I tend to be somewhat reckless when it’s just me on the road, but I’ve yet to spill my Sportster. It’s killer. Such a beautiful machine, crystal blue in color with a fiery Asian demon in flight painted along both sides of the gas tank, courtesy of an aspiring artist buddy, Frank Kitchens.
    When I reached Dickey’s office, Fiona had already parked the Camaro in the driveway. Its forest green tint almost blended with the painted gate that led to the building’s side entrance. She opened the driver side door to greet me, after I parked my bike nearby.
    The coroner’s people were still on the property, but the forensic crew had left. The news folks from several TV stations and a number of tabloids, including USA Today, were there, too. Since it was obvious that we wouldn’t gain access inside the building to have a casual look around, I reminded myself it wasn’t the reason I came anyway.
    It always gets my heart pumping whenever I see my wife dressed to the nines, which she must do every day for the bookstore she works for. Today that included a form-fitting skirt just above her knees and a blouse that revealed…well it left a little less to the imagination. Not trashy, but definitely something that left no mystery as to how buxom she is. And we’re not talking over-the-top stripper sized…she’s just ‘right’. At least that’s the general consensus among the dudes I roll with.
    The males in attendance all took notice when she walked over to where I parked. It made me feel a strange mixture of pride and humility that I’m her guy. But then I saw Ed Silver exit the passenger side of the Camaro. My blood ran cold, despite already noticing his unmarked cruiser parked on the other side of our car. It’s not because of any mistrust of Fiona. Ardently faithful in nature, her fooling around on me ain’t even a consideration. But Mr. Ed? …Now there’s a player for sure, like many a dude wearing the deep blue and a badge for our protection. Only he’s usually dressed in a suit, being a high-ranking detective and all.
    I could tell he was less than