Grimm - The Icy Touch Read Online Free PDF Page A

think Buddy stole my goods?” he asked.
    “Seems like it.”
    “You guys gonna get my pastries back?”
    “You wouldn’t sell stale pastries pawed over by some badger guy, now would you?” Hank asked, looking at him innocently.
    “Well...”
    “Never mind. You got anything more here, Nick?”
    Nick shook his head. “Someplace else I want to have a look at.”
    “You officers like a dozen donuts on the house?”
    “Yeah!” Hank said.
    “No,” Nick said.
    “Oh, come on, Nick, Jeez, sure it’s technically illegal for us to take ’em but...”
    “I’ll buy you a dozen of your choice, Hank.”
    “I’m totally taking you up on that. I’ll have six of those jelly fire hydrants and half a dozen coiled vipers, the ones with sprinkles.”

CHAPTER TWO
    “You going to tell me why I’m standing in a vacant lot staring down into a hole?” Hank asked.
    Nick nodded. “This morning Renard left the report on my desk about the guy they found burned up down in this hole. Body was likely a Drang-zorn, holding part of a Wicked Donuts box. Drang-zorn like to hide in burrows if they get stressed out.”
    “The report said Drang-zorn? No way.”
    “No, of course not, but Renard had circled the place they found the body—and something on the coroner’s report. Unusual features on the stiff’s hand. Couple of fingernails like a sloth’s claws. Only I figure it wasn’t a sloth. They were more like badger’s claws. Sometimes a Wesen will woge under traumatic circumstances—and some part of the woge stays after they’re dead. Just a little telltale.”
    “Renard and his sneaky little ways of talking about stuff we’re not supposed to talk about...”
    “Yeah. And this lot is just two blocks from the last address for Buddy Clement.”
    Hank glanced up at the sky and Nick followed the look.
    “Starting to rain,” Nick said.
    “Never worth mentioning in this town.”
    “It didn’t rain for several weeks in August.”
    Nick hunkered down, peering into the hole. It was about a yard wide, at the top, narrowing as it slanted down into darkness. A rich smell of mud, minerals, and animal rose from the shaft.
    “You got a flashlight?” he asked Hank.
    “Little one.”
    As a thin rain fell, Hank reached into his suit pocket, pulled out the small flashlight he always carried, handed it to Nick.
    Aiming the light into the hole, Nick could make out the packed mud and clay walls of the circular shaft. There were regular marks down the walls where it had been dug out—claw marks.
    “That little hidey-hole,” Nick remarked, “is probably snugger than it looks, you go down far enough. Drang-zorn pack the walls tight, work out some drainage, make a nice little apartment down there.”
    “That hole is snug? You been watching that kids movie, what is it —The Wind in the Willows?”
    “Not my brand of fairy tale.” Nick glanced around, saw that no one was watching. The lot was enclosed on three sides by a wooden fence. He leaned closer to the hole, and called down it, “Mrs. Clement! Ruby Clement! We want to help you! It’s Nick Burkhardt, from Portland Police! Could you come up and talk to us? I promise no one’s going to hurt you!”
    There was no response—except, very faintly, Nick heard a scrabbling sound. And he had a Grimm intuition: he could often sense Wesen around. She was down there.
    “Mrs. Clement! They will excavate this hole! You may as well come out!”
    He aimed the flashlight as deeply as the beam would reach...
    After a few moments, two red eyes reflected back at him. He glimpsed a wedge-shaped head, the fur striped white on black. Then the Wesen appearance melted away—and it was a human woman’s face. She looked frightened.
    Nick waved his badge. “Detective Burkhardt, ma’am! We want to help—we’ll protect you. I know about Drang-zorn—it’s all right!”
    “I... can’t get up there, like this!”
    “Go ahead and woge,” he called. “We’ll move back. You come on up and shift back