Set the Dark on Fire Read Online Free PDF

Betty Louis, the proprietor, came to take their order, he realized the error of his ways.
    The town was even smaller than he thought.
    “Howdy, Sheriff,” she said. Betty was a tall woman, broad-shouldered and sturdy, with fading blond hair and sharp blue eyes. Yesterday she’d asked him if he was married, where he was from, and if he had a girl waiting for him back there, so he already knew she was an insatiable gossip. Or worse, a matchmaker.
    “Looks like you had a nice time at the party last night,” Betty said, giving Shay a sly wink. She had a full carafe of coffee in one hand and a bandage on the other, as if she’d burned herself in the kitchen.
    Cooking accidents and nosiness. Hazards of the trade.
    “No,” Shay said, darting a glance at him. Although he was in uniform and on officiâl business, Betty was implying that he and Shay had spent the night together. “I mean yes, the party was …”
    Betty smiled, delighted to watch her stammer.
    “Just bring me the special,” Shay said with a glare, handing back her menu.
    “Same for you, Sheriff?” When he nodded, Betty filled both their mugs from her carafe. “And all the coffee you can drink, on the house.”
    Luke took a sip of coffee, which was nothing fancy but tasted a lot better than the swill at the station. Out of habit, he’d chosen a booth in the corner, and from that vantage point, he could see both exits while keeping an eye on his pickup through the fine coat of dust on the windows.
    Bighorn Café was like a hundred other roadside diners in a hundred other podunk towns. From its worn vinyl booths and chipped Formica tabletops to its old-fashioned cash register and laminated menus, everything was outdated.
    On the wall behind the counter, a single dollar bill had been framed.
    “Sorry,” Shay said when Betty was out of earshot. “I would have told her we were working together, but I thought you might want to keep things quiet.”
    “I do,” he admitted. “At least until the coroner releases a report.”
    She hunched her shoulders a little, as if trying to make herself smaller, and wrapped her hands around the steaming mug. “I’ve been thinking it could have been kids. Maybe they found her on the dunes and took her to the Graveyard. They didn’t report the body because they’d been out after curfew, drinking and driving or whatever, so they brought her to a place where she was sure to be discovered.”
    He’d thought of that, too. It was far-fetched, but possible.
    “Or migrant workers,” she ventured. “We’ve got plenty of those around here. In the country illegally, afraid to call the police, that sort of thing.”
    She seemed to be awaiting his response, so he said, “You may be right.”
    “I mean, this is Tenaja Falls, not Las Vegas. The circumstances are strange, but people just don’t … off one another around here.”
    He made a noncommittal murmur, sipping coffee. Unless he could prove the scene had been staged, there wouldn’t be much to investigate. “When a body has been moved or tampered with, procedure dictates we assume a homicide has occurred. Burial in an unmarked grave, for instance. That usually doesn’t happen when a person dies of natural causes.”
    “Were you a homicide investigator in Vegas?”
    “No. I was on a task force for organized crime.”
    Luke was saved from her next question—what brought him to Tenaja—when Betty laid down hot, heaping plates. Eggs, bacon, hash browns, toast. It was typical small town fare, and even he could take comfort in that simplicity.
    Shay picked up her fork and dug in, so she must have been feeling better. She ate with economical efficiency, apparently not interested in starving herself skinny or affecting dainty mannerisms. Her unself-consciousness amused him until she noticed him watching her.
    She looked from her plate, which was almost empty, to his. Something like hurt darkened her eyes, and he understood the reason for it. She thought he found her