The Chosen Read Online Free PDF

since someone lopped off his head,” she snapped.
    Ben tried another angle. “And when do you think that might have happened?”
    â€œIf I was guessing, which you know damn well I don’t do, I’d say maybe two or three hours.”
    He made a couple of notes in his notebook. “Anything you can tell me about the murder weapon?”
    â€œIt was sharp.”
    Ben shifted, then stood abruptly. “Come on, Fran. I don’t like being out here any more than you do, but I need something to work with.”
    She motioned toward one of the other investigators as she got up.
    â€œBag him up,” she ordered, then turned toward Ben. “I’ll send you a complete report as soon as I know more.”
    â€œThanks,” he said, and headed back to the perimeter, where his partner was interviewing a witness. Just then a news van pulled up.
    â€œThe vultures have arrived,” he muttered, then cursed beneath his breath when he realized it was January DeLena who was getting out of the van. “Son of a bitch.”
    Meeks looked up. “What?”
    â€œNews crew’s here.”
    â€œYour turn to head ’em off. I’m taking a statement.”
    Ben eyed the wino who’d found the body. He was still crying. Ben couldn’t blame him. But the longer he stood here, the closer that woman was going to get. He hadn’t seen her up close or talked to her since that night behind the hedge, and he wasn’t looking forward to it now. He set his jaw and turned around just as January slipped beneath the crime scene tape and headed toward him.
    He quickly grabbed her elbow, escorting her back to the perimeter as he sent the cameraman back to the van with a warning look.
    â€œCome on, Miss DeLena, you’re not allowed in here and you know it.”
    The words January meant to say were rolling around in her head, but when she’d seen Benjamin North walking toward her, they hadn’t come out in the proper sequence. Then, when he’d taken her by the arm, she’d lost her train of thought.
    â€œThe public allows…I mean, it’s a job for…Shit.”
    Almost immediately, she felt a flush spreading across her face, and hoped to goodness it was too dark where they were standing for Detective Yummy to see.
    January’s discomfort became a source of amusement for Ben. It was the first time he’d seen Miss Hot-To-Trot at a loss for words, and he couldn’t let it go.
    He grinned.
    January glared.
    â€œSince when is murder funny?” she snapped.
    â€œDid I say it was? Did I say anything to you except to indicate—once again, I might add—that you’re trespassing?”
    January sighed. “Come on, North. You know me. I don’t give up details until you give me the go-ahead.”
    â€œAnd I don’t make deals with the media. Please get back.”
    January stood her ground with an intensity that surprised him.
    â€œIs it true?” she asked.
    â€œIs what true?” he countered.
    â€œThe victim…was he really beheaded?”
    Ben flinched. Damn. Someone on the scene was feeding info to the media. They had to be, or she wouldn’t have gotten here this fast with that kind of information.
    â€œWho told you that?” he asked.
    â€œNever mind. Just answer me. Is that the truth?”
    â€œIt’s none of your business,” he snapped.
    â€œDo you know his name?”
    â€œNot yet.”
    January shifted from one foot to the other. She had to know, even though she feared the truth. Finally she blurted out another question, and this time she got Ben’s attention.
    â€œIs the victim the same guy who preaches hell and damnation on the street corners?”
    Ben grabbed her by the arm and pulled her toward a streetlight.
    â€œI don’t know, but if he is, what does that mean to you?”
    She shrugged. “Maybe nothing.”
    â€œWould you recognize his face if you saw