Four O'Clock Sizzle: An Inspector Rebecca Mayfield Mystery (The Rebecca Mayfield Mysteries Book 4) Read Online Free PDF

it.”
    “We were damn lucky. And did you have any luck finding the guy you chased from here?” He got up and crossed the room towards the sofa and chairs.
    She did the same and sat on the sofa. “Not yet. We caught him on security and traffic. He was the same guy seen at Easy Street Clothiers, but he kept the brim of the baseball cap too low to clearly see his face.  Arsonists tend to enjoy watching their handiwork, which makes me suspect he’s our man.”
    “I’ve heard that. Do you have time for a beer or coffee?” He had a small refrigerator as well as an automatic espresso maker in the office.
    “No, thanks. I’m on duty and can’t stay. But I wanted to tell you that the accelerant used on Diego Bosque’s store is the same as used here. So, what’s the connection between you and Bosque?” she asked.
    Why would she assume … Surely, she can’t have heard, he told himself. The story’s not even out yet. Besides, she pays no attention to tabloids, and businesses don’t get attacked because of them. “Who knows why arsonists pick their targets?”
    Her gaze seemed filled with disappointment. “There is a connection between Diego Bosque, and you.” Just then, her phone buzzed. “It’s dispatch,” she said, which meant she had to take the call.
    She stood, her expression making it clear she wasn’t happy with him. “I’ve got to go, but we’re not finished with this conversation.”
    He sat down as he watched her leave without even a good-bye. He took out the liar app to find it had marked just about everything she said as a lie. What the hell did that mean?

 
    CHAPTER FOUR
     
    The crime scene was a six-foot long trash receptacle in a narrow, shade-filled alley in the Polk Gulch district, a middle-class neighborhood of mostly two- or three-story flats and apartment buildings. Also, a string of businesses lined Polk Street from the foot of Russian Hill to the foot of Nob Hill.
    A young policewoman stood guarding the dumpster, while other uniformed police kept a growing number of spectators away from the area. As Rebecca approached, she saw a black mylar bag on the street. When she got closer, she saw that next to it was fresh vomit.
    A creepy feeling trickled along her spine as she showed her credentials and stated her name. Her partner, Bill Sutter, ran to catch up to her, and he also showed his badge.
    The policewoman swallowed hard before saying, “Officer Meadows, Central Station.”
    “The victim is in the dumpster?” Rebecca asked.
    Officer Meadows shook her head. “No.”
    “Where?”
    She pointed at the bag.
    Judging from the size, Rebecca’s heart sank. “A baby?” she whispered.
    Again, Meadows shook her head, and quietly stated, “We haven’t found the rest of him yet.”
    The rest?
    Sutter gestured that the bag was all Rebecca’s. She snapped on her latex gloves. As her partner watched she found the open end of the bag and pulled it wide. The smell of blood and death hit her hard, making her stomach clench so badly she stepped back, needing some fresh air. Inside the bag was a human head, but the way the head lay, all she could see was the top of it—thick, straight black hair, apparently so heavily gelled that even as the head was being removed from the body, the style stayed in place.
    “Good God almighty,” Sutter whispered.
    Rebecca got down on one knee and carefully lowered the black sheeting off the head and to the ground, doing her best not to move or ruin any remaining trace evidence. She then tipped the head so that it lay face up. It was so bloodless, bloated and mottled, she couldn’t be sure of anything, but at first glance, the features and skin color appeared to be that of an Asian male.
    As Rebecca stood up, her limbs quivered from the horror before her.  She took a moment, and then focused on the policewoman. “What have you got so far?”
    The young woman drew in her breath, doing her best not to look down at the head. “The call came in about one this