The Frailty of Flesh Read Online Free PDF Page B

back the dead, and sometimes the trivial reasons why one person would end another’s life left you feeling nothing but hollow. The reasons usually weren’t good enough to make sense of it.
    At times Tain’s gaze seemed to have the force of a magnetic pull. Sixth sense kicked in, and she knew he was watching her with those dark eyes. She looked up.
    He tipped his head to the side, just a bit. A nod toward the couple. She looked at Mr. and Mrs. Reimer.
    They walked down the driveway solemnly. Although she’d been deep in thought, Ashlyn had been aware of them the whole time, of Mr. Reimer telling his wife it was time to go, of their lawyer advising them it was best they take some time to discuss things privately. Of Mrs. Reimer’s wide-eyed expression, as though her revelation about the weather would somehow change things. The break in the stream of tears that had finally come, long after Christopher had blurted out the news, hinted at misplaced hope, as though it were possible to unwind time and do things differently, summon the rain in the morning and save her child’s life.
    The woman was in denial, not that Ashlyn could blame her.
    Mr. Reimer hadn’t said a word. His eyes hadn’t widened or narrowed. No color dissolved from his cheeks. He had remained expressionless the entire time, and now he gripped his wife’s elbow and steered her toward the car.
    TV camera crews had descended in the past half hour. News had leaked out somehow, and Ashlyn had been forced to call in patrol cars to keep the press off the Reimer property, which had prompted the lawyer’s decision to take the Reimer family away from their residence for the afternoon.
    Christopher was already in the back of the vehicle. Once Mr. and Mrs. Reimer were strapped inside, doors closed, Byron Smythe walked back to the sidewalk where Tain and Ashlyn stood.
    Even the way he carried himself made Ashlyn nauseated. Mr. Tall, Dark and God’s Gift to Women with the cocky grin and what she thought of as rented biceps. Kind of guy who went to the gym and did his thirty minutes five days a week just to keep the image, but had never done any manual labor in his entire life.
    Style over substance.
    He flashed her his custom-designed smile. “I trust you’ll keep me apprised of all developments on this case.”
    “You’ll be notified of anything relevant to your clients immediately.” She pushed the corners of her mouth up deliberately. “Assuming, of course, we can reach you.”
    He took a small silver case out of his jacket pocket and removed a card. “Work and personal numbers. Day or night, Ms. Hart.”
    “Constable Hart.”
    “Funny, I thought you’d been known to let the personal and professional intersect from time to time.”
    “It’s the line between respectable and repugnant I don’t cross.”
    He flashed his smile again and held the card out to her. “We’ll have to assess your boundaries another time.”
    She bit back her retort and took the card.
    Once Byron Smythe had returned to his car and driven away Tain said, “You know, it could be fun to slap a sexual harassment charge on that bastard.”
    “Fun for you, maybe. I’d rather not deal with the pompous ass, myself.”
    “Maybe I’m scarred because he didn’t leer at me and give me his phone number.”
    “Oh, that’s rich, coming from the guy who smacked my ass at a crime scene last summer.”
    Tain cracked a smile. “Guess I never could make that fly.”
    “And I hate to tell you this, but you aren’t living up to your reputation as a sexist pig these days, either.”
    “You know how it is. If I come off as nice and reasonable for a while the women lower their guard.”
    Ashlyn laughed.
    “Feels good, doesn’t it?” Tain’s smile faded. “But then you start to feel guilty.”
    Ashlyn looked back at the Reimer family home, at the upstairs window to what had been Jeffrey Reimer’s bedroom. Now it was just a painful reminder.
    “I don’t think we’ll have much to feel