Terrorbyte Read Online Free PDF Page B

light.
    â€œYes.”
    He stepped forward. “I’m Officer Josh Konstram, your escort,” he said and offered his hand.
    We shook briefly.
    â€œPleased to meet you, Officer Konstram.”
    â€œLikewise, Agent Conway. Call me Josh.” He offered his hand again.
    I smiled. We shook. I replied. “I’m Ellie.”
    Five doors opened off the atrium. Police officers stood on either side of one open door indicating where we should go. Josh stepped forward and led the way.
    A fluorescent light down the hall flickered, flashed and went out. The absence of the light created an even creepier atmosphere. We walked down the wide hallway and past several other apartment doors as we went, eventually stopping next to another police officer. He handed us protective shoe coverings and latex gloves. I pulled on the shoe coverings, then the gloves, as did Josh.
    Josh held the door open and said, “This way, Ellie.”
    The officer by the door cleared his throat.
    Josh corrected himself, “This way, Agent Conway.”
    I glanced at him. “Ellie.”
    He grinned and the more senior officer on the door nodded.
    Josh stayed on my right, guiding me away from bloodied footprints and possible trace evidence as we walked down the dingy hallway to find Lee or Sam.
    The home was in disarray but the impression I gleaned was one of permanent turmoil and disorder. Nothing I saw indicated the mess was attributable to the current situation: clutter piled high; junk stacked on every flat surface and piled on chairs in the rooms we passed. Possessions lay heaped along the entire length of the interior hallway: books, clothing and newspapers. Stuff. This was the home of a hoarder. Josh stopped at the end of the junk-filled and untidy hallway.
    I felt a rising desperation brought on by a pervasive feeling of menace that seeped from the apartment walls. I felt suddenly claustrophobic. I took some slow deep breaths and wished I hadn’t – the air was none too fresh.
    Stemming my own panic as best I could, I called into the rooms beyond, “Lee?”
    His deep voice filtered through my defenses, leaving warm security in its wake. “Ellie, check this out.”
    I’m okay.
    I glanced at Josh. He said, “I’ll be right here.”
    â€œThanks.”
    I stepped over strewn garbage as I made my way to his position, somewhere on my right. The clutter spilled everywhere but became overshadowed by garbage and general filth. As tempting as it was to cover my mouth and nose with my hand, I resisted.
    The smell of death permeated the room that may once have been a dining room.
    I found Lee in the kitchen.
    â€œI’m here.” I flicked my eyes quickly around the room, getting a sense of the scene.
    Lee pointed to the cabinets and something written in marker pen. Writing extended all the way around the kitchen, putting the body in the center of a bizarre circle of words. It took me a few moments to discover the beginning.
    â€œA poem?” Lee’s manner was tentative.
    I knew by his tone he didn’t want to go there again either.
    I read it twice, forcing down bile and swallowing as hard as I dared. It wasn’t just a poem. Not a whole one anyway: just the first two lines of a poem I knew well. I surveyed the scene. I could feel there was something else here, something that may hold a clue or two. The more I looked, the more the feeling began to seem like wishful thinking.
    Lee was waiting for an answer.
    I bent over the body of the woman. Around her neck was a gold ribbon, the sort used on gifts; a ribbon tied in a pretty bow. There was no obvious blood smeared on the bow or the ribbon. I leaned closer to her face. I could smell chlorine.
    I felt Lee’s eyes on me and answered his question.
    â€œIt’s not a whole poem.”
    â€œWhat then?”
    I smiled. I knew he was so going to love this as much as he loved middle-of-the-night crime scenes.
    â€œThey’re the