Fury From Hell Read Online Free PDF Page B

way to collect bodily fluids from stiffs, hmm?  You know, you guys don’t make it easy to be a regular average woman ‘round here.  You have to be a blonde bombshell like Babs in Forensics, or a smart bitch like Betty Feinster with a mean left hook to gain your collective pious respect.  I didn’t feel like playing to the tune of your pied piper.  How ‘bout that?”
    As she was speaking, Jennifer took her feet down and rose out of her sitting position an inch at a time until she was in Yearwood’s face.  He refused to back down even though the red-hot waves of anger emanating from her were enough to stop his heart.  He stood his ground.  This appeased the Fury and she pulled back allowing Jennifer to take the helm once more.
    Jennifer looked confused for a second when she realized she was kissing distance from Yearwood and blinked a couple of times and pulled back quickly.
    Trying not to do a double-take, Yearwood’s eyes narrowed.
    “Yeah…yeah, I see how you may have wanted to opt out but to hide your intelligence and your observation skills so completely?  And make us all think your lottery and gambling schemes were more important than protecting and serving?  It’s a bit much to swallow…”
    The Fury came back.
    “I don’t give a rat’s hairy God-damned arse what you think!  This is my life and if I want to play ball now I will because I damned well feel like it.  Get out of my cubicle if all you’re going to do is piss me off.”
    She plopped back in her chair, yanked open one of her metal drawers and snagged a can of Red Bull and chugged it down.  She burped for good measure, pulled up to her computer, opened up the Barnes file and started working on it clearly dismissing him.
    Yearwood opened his mouth a couple of times to say something but the right words wouldn’t come.  He shook his head and walked away realizing his hopes for getting closer to the enigmatic detective were dashed yet again.
    ***
    November 3 - 7 th
    Detective Holden was meticulous.  She had started making the rounds the same day Gerald gave her the list.  Her first stop was the salon Kyma had worked in.  Even then, three days after her death, the tone was still somber.  Jennifer could see everyone was genuine and had truly liked their former manager.
    Nothing here.
    Sighing, she thanked everyone and left with no additional leads.  She got in the squad car and reviewed Gerald’s list.  She had then decided to drop in on a few of Kyma’s friends at their jobs to see if she could shake anything loose.  It took a couple of days to contact the six women and two men listed as Kyma’s close friends.  And Jennifer still had a big fat sum of zero.  But, there was a slight ping.  One of the men — Herman Billings — was head over heels in love with Kyma.  However, from her other interviews on the short friend list, Kyma had never noticed him at all.  While there was plenty of angst with him he was no killer.  He was too afraid he’d ruin his manicure.
    “God I hate metrosexuals!”  She looked down at her own badly bitten nails and shoved them in her pockets as she rode down the elevator stewing in frustration.  The particularly posh Upper Eastside building elevator with its floor to ceiling mirrors, tasteful high-wear carpeting and varnished cherry wood did not help her mood.
    None of Kyma’s friends could be suspects; they were not even remotely subverting any laws other than the law of physics.  The boob jobs on two of Kyma’s friends were extreme, to put it mildly.  The elevator ticked past the 34 th floor and kept up an even keel descent.  Sighing, Jennifer nibbled on her bottom lip while watching the numbers slip by on the lighted panel above the doors.
    That leaves a complete stranger; or someone on the outskirts of Kyma’s life.  But how would she have met that someone?
    She checked the list again and realized that Gerald hadn’t put down a lot of her favorite haunts.  He only had down the