The Dead Man Read Online Free PDF Page A

comforting, like a soft sweatshirt on a cool day.
    The house I'd rented was part of that fabric. The fireplace, the overstuffed furniture, and the trees that towered over the front and back, home to enough birds and squirrels for Ruby to chase until she was exhausted, were all part of the balm.
    "I'll buy it. The house, I mean. Plus the furniture, everything."
    She laughed. "If you could afford that, you wouldn't be renting."
    Ruby found us, first jumping on Lucy who was standing in the middle of the room, then leaping onto the bed, sticking her nose in my face.
    "That doesn't sound like no. It sounds like how much."
    She put her hands on her hips. "All it sounds like is that I'm not going to kick you out tonight."
    "Suppose I come up with enough money to make you an offer to sell?"
    "I have a rule, Jack. I only deal with what's in front of me."
    "Fair enough."
    My cell phone rang. I flipped it open and recognized the voice.
    "Jack, it's Ammara Iverson."
    Ammara had been one of my agents when I ran the Violent Crimes Squad in the FBI's Kansas City office. Most of my Bureau friendships had faded once the shared work that held them together ended. Ammara was different. Though we hadn't seen each other very often, the bond was still there.
    "Hey, it's great to hear your voice. What's up?"
    "You doing anything?"
    "Just trying to decide whether to buy a house or get evicted from it. Why?"
    "I've got a dead man wants to talk to you."
    The dead man was what my squad called the scene of a homicide, the scene telling us what the victim couldn't. Ammara knew that I trusted the dead man more than anyone or anything but that didn't explain why she was calling me.
    "Tell the dead man I'm retired."
    "You might wish you weren't when you talk to this one. You better get over here." She hung up after giving me the address and directions.
    The FBI had rules for everything including the handling of crime scenes. Preserving the integrity of the physical evidence was critical to solving a crime and getting a conviction. Access to the scene was tightly controlled. Ex-FBI agents didn't qualify. Whatever her reasons, Ammara wanted me inside the yellow tape.
    Lucy watched me throughout my brief conversation, making no pretense of not listening.
    "Who's the dead man?"
    "Inside joke. I've got to go meet a friend of mine."
    "What are you retired from?"
    "The FBI."
    "Your friend with the FBI?"
    "For someone who's throwing me out of my house, you ask a lot of questions."
    "Best way I know to learn."
    "Find another teacher."
    I stood for an instant before muscle contractions jackknifed my head to my knees. I reached for something to hold onto, finding Lucy's arm, her steady grip stabilizing me.
    "I'll drive," she said. "You're in no shape."
    Some lessons are forced on me. One of them is accepting help when I didn't have a choice. I was in worse condition than the snow-packed streets. If Ammara needed me, my first concern was getting there, not who drove. The contractions released me.
    "Okay, let's go."

Chapter Eight
     
    Kansas City covers a lot of territory from the airport north of the Missouri River, to the NASCAR track across the state line in western Wyandotte County, Kansas, to the Truman Sports Complex in eastern Jackson County, Missouri. There are better than forty municipalities spread over five counties and two states, enough for everyone to claim a fiefdom yet many will tell a stranger that they live in Kansas City rather than Raytown, Prairie Village, Independence, or Overland Park.
    The southern reaches aren't identified with an iconic landmark. On the Kansas side, they are defined by large, new, and expensive rooftops sheltering more per capita disposable income than many of the country's zip codes, extending beyond the eye's reach much as prairie grasses must have in another time. The rooftops on the Missouri side are smaller, older, and modest, covering the working middle class. The address Ammara gave me was for one of these.
    Despite its