Forgotten Place Read Online Free PDF

hands.  He towered over
me, like a lot of the men from Darkwater Bay, but kept the scowl in
check.  Still, he didn't shake the proffered limb.
    "I'll get her statement," Mackenzie
said.  "Will you be back?"
    My shoulder felt dislocated after catching
myself from his shove to the pavement.  Part of me has trouble
resisting throwing daggers at others, particularly when they're
well deserved.  I rubbed the bum joint ruefully. 
"Actually, I should probably trot up to x-ray and have a shot taken
of my shoulder.  I hit pretty hard when you were rendering
assistance to Dr. Ireland."
    So fun to watch big men shrink.  But
Captain Caveman apparently didn't want to be known as the new guy
that brutalized the displaced new guy-cum-hero of Darkwater Bay
(me).  He snagged the arm of a nurse rushing past.  "I
think Detective Eriksson might've been injured when we brought in
Ms. Ireland.  Could you set her up for an x-ray of the
shoulder she had surgery on a couple of months ago?"
    Here's another reason to
get the hell out of Darkwater Bay.  When my face became so
known that even a nurse in the emergency department of the local
hospital remembered me, recalled with absolute clarity the day I
was shot, it was time to get the hell out of Dodge.  Dad's
rules were never far from the tip of my tongue.  Blend in.  Do your job well, but don't
become so high profile that the world notices
you.   Uh-huh.  I'm precisely on
the grid, which is exactly where I don't want to
be. 
    Still, Datello is here, and it's a lure that
I'm not sure I can resist, particularly not now. I'm fully aware
that the case that tiptoed close to whatever criminal activity he
was engaged in years ago might be heating up again.
    I ignored the words firing at me with the
precision of an Uzi, let them bounce right off and indulged in a
moment of question.  Why would someone slit the throat of
David Ireland's daughter in a parking garage on the sixteenth
anniversary of his murder?  I snorted.  Assassins
typically don't send those kinds of messages.  And if Knife
Dude really wanted her dead and was worth the price of his cheap
mask, no amount of effort would've saved Journey Ireland's
life.
    Then again, she wasn't out of the woods
yet.
    "Detective Eriksson?"  A huge paw
cupped my chin.
    "She does that, Mackenzie."  A familiar
voice joined the cacophony of unpleasant sounds.  "Eriksson
has a long history of zoning out in the middle of
conversations."
    I turned and tried not to grin at the smart
ass approaching.  "Detective Conall, what brings you
here?"
    "Finkelstein heard you became a magnet for
death and mayhem again and thought you might need a hand."
    Good old Darnell followed through and sent
up the flare through Downey Division instead of OSI.  Though
Shelly's choice of aid left something to be desired, I was grateful
for a familiar face.  No doubt, Crevan had already called
Johnny.
    He pulled me into a hug before peering down
at me.  "Jesus, Helen.  No offense, but you look like
shit."
    "Thanks.  It's good to see you
too."
    The nurse I'd already forgotten stood beside
me with a wheelchair.  "Detective Eriksson, we can shoot a
quick film of your shoulder now.  If you take a seat, I'll
have you up to x-ray in no time."
    "X-ray, huh?  What'd you do, try to
chase the perp down before he could get away?"
    I spared a sidelong glance at Detective
Mackenzie.  He stiffened with military precision, and I half
expected him to salute.  "It was my fault, sir.  I didn't
recognize Detective Eriksson at the scene and sort of... well, I
moved her out of the way so I could render aid to the victim."
    Crevan's chameleon hazel eyes
twinkled.  "At ease, Mackenzie.  You don't have to call
me sir, we have the same rank."  Back at me, "You all right,
Helen?"
    "I ache.  And we're keeping Detective
Mackenzie from taking a statement from Dr. Ireland's best friend
over there."
    "Ouch.  Yeah, Shelly mentioned the link
to the closed case."
    "What closed case?"