The Body Finder Read Online Free PDF Page A

she’d been dozing, and the smell was coming off him in nearly visible, rippling waves, like heat coming off the desert sand.
    â€œCarl!” she accused the fat tomcat at the same time she was scooping him off her bed and racing him toward her bedroom door.
    She tried not to inhale as she rushed him down the stairs while he struggled against her hands, trying to wiggle free before she could toss him outside. It was a dance they had done before, and as usual, Violet won, slamming the door in the poor cat’s face.
    The smell couldn’t actually be blocked by the barrier of the door, but the distance created some relief from it, at least enough so that Violet was able to breathe again.
    It wasn’t the cat’s fault, not really. That was the thing about these unusual echoes that only Violet could sense: they worked the other way around too.
    The echo, whatever it happened to be for that individual creature, would also attach to the one responsible for thedeath—forever marking the killer.
    Carl had helped her to figure it all out when she was just a little girl. That was when she’d noticed the correlation between the dead mice and the broken birds that he would leave on their doorstep, each one with a distinct color, or scent, or feeling that only Violet could distinguish, a sensation that had nothing to do with the animal itself.
    And Carl would carry that very same imprint on him, as if he’d somehow been stained by the killing. The sensory imprint was identical to the echo that was left on the body, and as far as Violet could tell, no two echoes were the same. They were distinct. Unique.
    She also knew that animals that hunted—like her cat—could often carry several of these sensory markings, these death imprints , at once, which would fade only over time but never really vanish.
    Carl had been a lifelong hunter, and while Violet knew that it was just part of his nature, she couldn’t help being irritated when the sensations he carried with him were unpleasant for her.
    Unfortunately, this time it was especially objectionable.
    She wandered restlessly around the house for a while, trying to find a place where the pungent odor couldn’t find her, but there seemed to be no safe-zone for her…at least not entirely. So she decided it might be a good night to get out of the house after all, even if it was to babysit for her aunt and uncle.
    She quickly gathered her things, including her backpackfilled with homework, told her mom she’d grab something to eat at her uncle’s house, and all but ran to the relative safety of her car.
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    Her uncle Stephen, her dad’s brother, was the youngest of four boys and was at least eight years younger than either of Violet’s parents. He was also the chief of police in their small town and was the polar opposite of her father. Namely, he was funny, at least when he was off duty. When he was working, he was no-nonsense and serious…exactly like her dad.
    His wife, Violet’s aunt Kat, was only in her early thirties, but she was one of those women who had a youthful quality about her that made it hard to pinpoint her age just by looking at her.
    â€œHow do I look?” she asked Violet.
    â€œWhy are you asking her ?” Stephen Ambrose complained when his wife ignored that he was standing right beside his niece.
    Kat rolled her eyes at him like he was a slow-witted child. “Because all you care about is whether I’m done changing or not. You would say I looked good in a flannel nightgown if it meant we could leave.”
    He smiled at her. “You would look good in a flannel nightgown.”
    Kat shot Violet an apologetic look. “See what I have to live with?”
    â€œI think you look great,” Violet told her aunt and meantit. Then she added, “But lose the necklace, it’s a little too much.”
    Her aunt nodded, as though she’d been thinking the same thing, and pulled the