Carnosaur Crimes Read Online Free PDF Page A

in stone, rigid and non-smiling. Skinner smiled at Ansel from beneath a wavy bang of carefully- combed black hair. His skin’s ruddy color didn’t come from the sun, and his broad cheekbones, and narrow nose told her that he was a Native American. She grinned back.
    â€œAnd this is Doctor LaPierre. She works for the National Park Service.” Outerbridge motioned toward the pretty, full-bodied woman.
    LaPierre adjusted the tan straw hat above her black pageboy and moved forward so quickly that large hoop earrings clanked against her rouged cheeks. “Everybody just calls me Dixie. Glad to meet you both.”
    â€œWhat’s your specialty, Doctor?” Dorbandt asked.
    â€œPaleontology. I’m acting as a consultant.”
    Outerbridge edged Dixie smoothly aside and peered carefully at his men. “I want this area secured. Necessary personnel and witnesses only. Go over everything grid by grid. I don’t want anything missed.” At his command, the team headed for the river.
    Dorbandt fixed his cross-hair on Outerbridge. “A paleontologist. Exactly what type of case are you working?”
    The agent didn’t bat an eye. “I’m not at liberty to say, Detective, but this incident has just become part of a larger federal investigation. The BLM will be assisting and advising, of course, but we’re in charge of managing, collecting, and preserving evidence. We appreciate your help so far. I’m sure you’ve done a good job. It’s nothing personal.” Outerbridge followed the canned speech up with a beguiling smile, then stepped away.
    Ansel’s heart sank. She watched the group retreat out of earshot, then yanked off the stifling smock. Her sizzling glare should have seared through Outerbridge’s skull, but it didn’t. She passed the lab coat to Dorbandt.
    â€œFor once Bieselmore is right,” Ansel admitted. “We’re screwed.”

Chapter 4
    â€œEven a small mouse has anger.”
    Tribe Unknown
    Ansel sat at her drawing table and stared at the ink drawing she’d lined so quickly.
    Funny - in her mind’s eye - she had imagined the scene so clearly. Now she didn’t like the black and white, prehistoric picture at all.
    The clear skies above the Cretaceous coastal marshland were cloudless and hot. Insects flew from a shagbark forest, and dragonflies buzzed over the sluggish wetland waters. Amphibians jumped over the tops of tangled ferns and toppled, rotting tree trunks as a dinosaur herd of thirty-inch high Gasparinisaura skittered to and fro amidst the swampy foliage.
    A monstrous bipedal dinosaur crashed through the tree line. The Giganotosaurus opened its mouth and roared, a master predator causing havoc and confusion before selecting his prey. The panicked herbivores scattered as enormous snapping jaws - twice their size - came within striking distance. The chase was on.
    The drawing showed the vicious attack from a ground level perspective. The towering Giganotosaurus approached head-on, neck low and reptilian eyes gazing down its massive, bumpy snout. A doomed Gasparinisaurus raced ahead, tail whipping sideways, legs outstretched in mid-leap, spiked front thumb-claws splayed, and beaked head turned to watch the slobbering jaws scant inches away.
    It was all wrong. A maw of serrated teeth ringed the Giganotosaurus’ tongue and a yawning, black gullet cavity. The portrait background was too shadowy. The foreground lacked detailing strokes. Every line and dot gravitated toward accentuating that cavernous mouth which eclipsed all other subjects on the page. The overall visual effect was gruesome and frightening.
    Ansel threw down her pen. Not exactly what the authors of a new book on momentous Argentine dinosaur discoveries had in mind, she thought. She’d been commissioned to create a large portfolio of realistic dinosaur drawings for a U.S. publisher. The majority of drawings had been completed during the last two