Acquired Motives (Dr. Sylvia Strange Book 2) Read Online Free PDF Page B

to repel jays, crows, and magpies. The ball bounced off the pole in a sudden gust of wind. An automatic sprinkler ticked insistently, and the air was tangy with the scent of moist soil. Beyond the garden's fenced border and the wooden compost bin, an elm tree had grown up through weeds like a leafy flagpole. Matt had an agreement with the school: they gave him free rent and a trailer pad; he brought his own trailer and kept an eye on the property when he was off duty. It was typical of state cops to choose a trailer over a real house.
          The Caprice was gone; Sylvia parked next to Matt's battered pickup truck with its wrought-iron calf rack. She watched a dust devil chase itself across asphalt and dirt. At the trailer door, she balanced groceries and briefcase under one arm and used the key Matt had presented to her three months earlier. She opened the door and was greeted by a throaty meow. The old tomcat, not yet adjusted to domestic life, liked to complain. His head was misshapen, and his nose bore scars from his recent career as a stray. Matt's new pet was fodder for "kitty" jokes at D.P.S. A cop with a cat simply wasn't manly.
          "Hey, Tom," Sylvia murmured. "Lonesome?" The cat brushed against her bare leg as she switched on the trailer's overhead light and stepped into icy cold—Matt had left his air conditioner at full blast again.
          The small entryway led into an almost equally minute kitchen. The groceries landed on the counter, the Absolut went straight to the freezer.
          The living room accommodated a couch, stereo system, and television. The master bedroom was located at the trailer's west end. During late June and July, it took the day's full heat. When the air conditioner was off, the result was hot enough to bake a cherry pie.
          Sylvia threw her jacket and briefcase on the couch and stripped off her clothes. She pulled on one of Matt's extra-large T-shirts, this one sporting a law-enforcement academy logo—like most cops, he was never completely out of uniform. And then she splashed cold water on her face and blotted away makeup.
          Maybe she could finally let go of the day, the courtroom, the office. She intentionally set her briefcase beside the couch, out of sight. Not quite out of mind. Her partner, Albert Kove, was on vacation, due back in four days. He was sorely missed; for Sylvia he was both a peer and a boss, a teacher and a friend. She sighed; Albert had better be in the office of the Forensic Evaluation Unit on Monday morning. Negotiations on the renewal of their state contract were set to begin. Professional do-or-die time.
          In the kitchen, the snap of the pop-top elicited mews from Tom. While the cat scarfed his dinner, Sylvia made herself an Absolut martini, straight up, double olives. She switched on the television, sprawled on the couch, and sipped the drink, which wasn't quite cold enough.
          Everywhere she looked, she saw Matt. His fly rod propped in the corner behind the couch. A baseball bat and a basket of balls. On the wall, a framed photo of his wife and young son, both killed years earlier in a car crash. Three state police certificates of commendation next to the photograph. Tacked to a closet door, a paper target—a man's torso outlined in black against a white background. Bullet holes neatly etched a happy face on the target torso. On the end table, a copy of The Rise and Fall of the Great Powers , part of Matt's self-education program.
          She could count on the fingers of one hand the possessions she had in his trailer. She had a new pair of underpants tucked under the pillow on the bed. Her toothbrush, floss, and hairbrush were in a bathroom drawer next to his razor blades and shaving cream. She kept a box of tampons under the sink. She knew he wouldn't mind if she left clothes in his closet, CDs, or bath oil, but she didn't want to make the present arrangement comfortable.
          Comfort