Read The Quickie for Free Online Page A

guessed with a shrug of his shoulders.
    “Service weapon or badge anywhere?”
    Mike shook his head grimly.
    “First impression is that somebody threw Thayer an incredible beating, shot him, and then dumped him here. Somebody pretty perturbed.”
    “You agree, Lauren?” my boss asked.
    I nodded, cleared my throat.
    “Looks like it,” I said.
    “Why do you say ‘dumped him’?” Keane asked next. “You pretty sure Thayer wasn’t killed here?”
    “Not much blood in the fountain. Plus, his clothes are covered in mud and grass stains,” Mike said. “This park hasn’t seen grass since the Iroquois Nation.”
    “Do your canvass forthwith,” Keane said. “Talk to the ME and crime-scene, then get your asses into Thayer’s office and check out his caseload. See what was open, what he was doing. The other members of his Drug Enforcement Task Force are being called as we speak. Talk to them when they get in. Talk to everybody in the squad.”
    Keane turned as a speeding, four-car entourage arrived beneath the elevated track from the south. He gave me a fatherly pat on the back.
    “They’re probably going to try to give this to those prima donnas at Major Case, but I’m not going to let them do it. This happened in our house. Make me proud.”

Chapter 22
    MAKE MY BOSS PROUD? I thought numbly as Pete Keane walked away.
    That was going to take some doing.
    Wait a second, I thought. Where was Paul? I’d been so busy being angry at him, I hadn’t even thought to check if he was okay. For the first time, I realized something chilling.
    For all I knew, he could have been shot, too! That actually made some sense to me.
    I tried Paul’s cell first. My stomach dropped as his voice mail picked up.
    I had to see if Paul was okay.
    “Damn,” I said, slapping my forehead with my phone as I looked up at my partner. “You’re not going to believe this, but I had terrible insomnia last night, so I was up baking, and I left something in the oven. I need to swing by my house, Mike. You think you could cover for me for about half an hour?”
    “What?” Mike said, shaking his head. “Biggest case of our lives and . . . What was it, anyway?”
    “Brownies.”
    “Okay, Betty Crocker,” Mike said with a dumbfounded shake of his head. “I got you covered for now. We have to wait around for the ME, anyway. Anybody asks, I’ll tell them you went to swing by Scott’s office. But you better fly, Ms. Primary Investigator. I don’t think the LT is going to be too happy if you’re not here when he gets back, even if you bring him a midnight snack.”
    I did as I was instructed. My lead foot coupled with the portable cop light I kept in my Mini had me back at my house in about eight minutes flat.
    But as I crested the top of our cul-de-sac and spotted Paul’s car in the driveway and the light on in our bedroom, I eased off the gas. A wave of relief washed over me.
    Paul was home, at least.

Chapter 23
    THE CAR GAVE ME AN IDEA. Finally, my brain was starting to function again. I killed my headlights along with my siren and dash light and cruised toward my house like I was about to commit a burglary. I needed to figure out as much as I could before I faced Paul. I parked three houses down the street and walked the rest of the way.
    The Camry’s doors were locked, but with the Slim Jim I retrieved from the trunk of my Mini, it was only a temporary setback. I paused at the driver-side door as the smell hit me. Pine cleaner and bleach.
Somebody had cleaned up a mess.
I shook off my emotions, took a breath, and clicked on my Mini Maglite.
    A few drops of blood under the passenger-side rear floor mat were all that I could find.
    It took me all of three minutes to find the bullet hole.
    It was underneath the driver’s headrest. It had gone in but it hadn’t come out. I probed the hole with the blade of the Leatherman tool I always carried and heard it click against something hard. A few saws later, the mushroomed lead slug dropped