Pieces of Ivy Read Online Free PDF Page A

good to see you, Coop.”
    Vicki was surprised at how different Dashel’s face looked when he smiled against the sunshine—catching a definite twinkle in his bloodshot squint.
    “You too, Hank.” Charlie scrutinized the much-taller man and then took in his face for a moment. “Everything … okay?”
    “One day at a time, my friend.”
    “Amen, brother.”
    A genuine stare passed between the two men as Vicki processed Dashel’s startling contrast.
    There was scarcely a person at the bureau she respected more than Charles Cooper. A medical examiner extraordinaire, he had worked with Vicki on several cases, including her first seven and then another one this past Christmas. Beyond his medical skills, she respected him as a man—Charlie was everything her father was not. For him to show any level of respect toward the wreck of a man she had been paired up with made no sense.
    “Well, you look like shit, Hank.”
    “And you’re losing hair.”
    Cooper laughed. He stood back waving a finger between the two agents. “You guys haven’t worked together before, have you? I’m sure I’d have known.”
    “No, we just met.” Hank’s voice was different—genuine and kind. Professional.
    “Well, Hank”—Coop nudged Hank’s shoulder—“don’t let her stunning good looks fool you. On the job, she’ll even give you a run for your money.”
    Vicki flashed from humble embarrassment to shock as she realized the man she admired had just set Hank Dashel as the bar.
    “Coop, this is Sheriff Roscoe. Sheriff, Charles Cooper—medical examiner.”
    The sheriff shook his hand. “We spoke on the phone.”
    Vicki had been so taken aback that she had missed giving the introductions. Hank hadn’t missed a beat. The transformation of the rude, disheveled man into a still-scruffy-but-authoritative presence was jarring.
    Roscoe took a quick call and told Vicki that he was heading back. She caught his unsettled glance at the barn, as if he was happy not to be joining them. Agent Dashel was talking with Charlie. She moved to join them.
    Vicki heard Charlie whisper to Hank, “You know, I never blamed you.”
    “I know. But you’d be the only one.”
    “That’s not true.”
    “I just—” Realizing Vicki was behind him, Hank turned to her. “Should we go have a look?”
    She nodded.
    They took a step forward. Charlie’s hand met Vicki’s shoulder.
    “What?” she asked, surprised.
    “It’s just…”
    “What, Charlie?” she repeated, frustrated that he continued to hold her back.
    “I don’t think you should see this, Vicki.”
    She looked at him.
    “It’s, by far, the worst I’ve seen.”
    Her laugh lacked levity. “Hey, this better not be a girl thing.”
    He gripped both of her arms. “Yes, this time it is a girl thing. Vicki, it’s bad—and I’m prepared to stand by a double standard here.”
    “I appreciate that, Charlie, but I’m FBI—messy’s my middle name.” She resented having to defend herself like a child. “I’ll be fine. Take us in.”
    Cooper looked at her long and hard for a moment. She wasn’t going to budge. He let go and led them toward the horrid barn.
    When she felt compelled to look away from the unsettling structure, Vicki braced against a sudden shiver striking through her flesh as she glanced sidelong across the field toward the forest—she didn’t like the trees.
    Vicki stepped into the empty echo of the ancient structure. The warm, rolling air outside pushed the building against its tight beams and graying braces. The resultant whine bit into Vicki’s teeth with the pinching squeak of a dental drill. All added further staging to the unbearable space as the heavy thudding of old shifting wood threatened overhead, shaking dry dust from its dark, cobwebbed shadows.
    Pale wormlike shapes snaked the aging floorboards, lying dead around her boots. “What’s wrong with the floor?”
    “Someone sprayed it down. It’s dry now. The dust just caked in funny patterns.”
    Hank