Speak the Dead Read Online Free PDF Page B

fixtures, two large walk-in refrigerators at the far end, and an elderly corpse in a smart-fitting herringbone suit.
    â€œNice place,” he said.
    Sally burst out laughing and it was so infectious Jersey couldn’t help but join in.
    â€œSorry,” Jersey said as the laughter died down. “I guess that was lame.”
    â€œNot to worry.” Sally walked over and lightly touched his arm. “For an inner-city mortuary, it does have its charms.”
    Sally moved past him and grabbed the occupied gurney.
    â€œCan you get the door?” she asked. “The cooler on the right.”
    Jersey crossed to the giant refrigerator and pulled open the heavy steel door, which allowed Sally to wheel the gurney inside. Once the body was parked, Sally covered its head and upper body in a light cheesecloth veil to protect against dust or other contaminants wrecking her work. When she was done, she closed the door.
    â€œSo,” Sally moved to pack up her supplies, turning her back to him, “what questions did you have?”
    Jersey cleared his throat and fumbled open a small fake-leather notebook.
    â€œJust the one really,” he said. “How did you see the vehicle’s plate?”
    SALLY DIDN’T KNOW how to answer.
    The truth seemed ridiculous: she had noticed the car’s registration while watching the hit and run through the victim’s own eyes.
    It was the one part of her experience that really bothered her. All the rest, the woman’s legs being broken, her neck hitting the windshield… it didn’t take a detective to piece together what must have happened. The state of her body told that story. It would have ignited anyone’s imagination.
    But how did she explain the license plate and the two faces she glimpsed through the windshield?
    â€œMs. Wilson?” Jersey’s face radiated concern.
    â€œSorry.” Sally smiled. “I drifted off for a second.”
    â€œYou look worried. Are you feeling okay?”
    â€œYes, I’m fine. Just… tired.”
    â€œIt can be a shock,” said Jersey, “seeing a thing like that. It hits me, too, sometimes. I’ll be working a case, wading through bodies, thinking I’m invulnerable to it all, and then, wham , I need to sleep for about twenty hours just to get things back in perspective.”
    â€œMy guests are easier,” Sally said. “More at peace than yours.”
    Jersey grinned. “I’ve never thought of my cases as having guests, but maybe I should start.” His eyes reflected a gentle warmth and Sally felt something inside her stir. “Then maybe their faces wouldn’t stay with me so long.”
    Sally reached out and stroked his arm again, her fingers becoming hooked in a rip in the sleeve of his ratty T-shirt.
    â€œHow did you get that hair?” Sally asked. “The white streak.”
    Jersey blushed. “Natural curse, I guess. My grandfather had it, which never endeared me to my father as he hated the son of a bitch.”
    Sally laughed, but quickly covered her mouth. “Sorry.”
    â€œNo, don’t be,” said Jersey. “I can be a son of a bitch, too, if the mood strikes.”
    â€œI find that hard to believe.”
    Jersey smiled wider. “You might be surprised.”
    â€œI think I’d like that,” said Sally.
    â€œLike what?”
    Sally grinned playfully. “To be surprised.”
    Jersey blushed again.
    â€œWhy Ms. Wilson,” he said in a weak attempt to sound like Rhett Butler, “are you hitting on me?”
    Sally feigned indifference. “Would you like me to?”
    â€œWith all my heart.”
    Jersey’s sincerity was so unexpectedly earnest, Sally felt her own cheeks grow warm.
    The awkward silence that followed was broken when Jersey’s cellphone burred.
    â€œSorry.” He answered the phone. When he hung up, he said, “They’ve found the vehicle and need me on