The Haunted Bones Read Online Free PDF Page B

see?"
    She wanted to slap him, and then run one of
the knives in the kitchen over his throat. Slit it side to side.
"Just answer the damn question."
    "Well, if it's something you really don't
want anyone to know about, deleting it won't solve the problem.
You'll still have to deal with who else saw it. And you have to
know if they made a copy."
    "How much?"
    Auggie winced. "Eh?"
    "How much do you want?"
    "For the keyboard? It was about
seventy-nine."
    God, he was such a dipshit. "How much would
it cost me to have the information and anyone involved with it,
deleted?"
    His eyes brightened at the prospect of a
job. "Well, that'll depend on how many stiffs. You got an
idea?"
    "Just one that I know of. I don't know if
he's shared it with anyone else."
    "Torture usually works. So who's the
intended?"
    She pointed at the computer and stepped up
to the bar to fix a drink.
    Auggie sat down and moved the mouse. He
pushed back and held up his hands. "Nope. Sorry. No can do."
    "What?" She slammed the highball glass on
the bar. "What do you mean, no can do?"
    "That is a very well-known cop, in case you
didn't read, which you usually don't. And he's decorated."
    "He's a photographer."
    "Now he is, but he took a bullet when they
caught that kid who killed Padeaus's son. The mayor gave him an
award."
    She drowned the inside of her glass with a
good portion of Dewar's before she looked up at her stepson. "I met
him. He didn't strike me as very heroic." The precision he threw
the rock with did come to mind, though.
    "Sorry, Mary, but you're gonna have to find
someone else to off him. Now, I might be able to get to this
information and annihilate it, for a nice price."
    "But what about him? If he tells anyone,
what difference does it make?"
    Auggie pointed to his head. "Guy has a
bullet in his brain. Take it from there."
    She considered her position while finishing
her drink. If Auggie managed to delete the photos, then there
wouldn't be any evidence of what Mr. McNally saw. The fact the guy
took a bullet to the head could also be used in open court or even
the media to argue that he wasn't completely sane, that he was
seeing things.
    Then there wouldn't be any bodies.
    "He saw me."
    "Then you're going to have to do that part
on your own." Auggie leaned against the back of one of the three
couches in the sprawling apartment. "You could see if Black Angel
would take the case."
    Black Angel. A well-known
gun-for-hire. In certain circles the name carried with it a power
no one wanted to be the victim of. "This is small potatoes for
Black Angel. I don't see him taking the
hit."
    "I don't know." He strolled to the bar and
grabbed an empty glass. After dropping a few ice cubes into it, he
poured a glass of rum. "Remember why Angel went on hiatus?"
    "Something to do with a potential target's
maturity. Which made no damn sense to me."
    "Shouldn't. You're not a doer." He held up
his glass before he took a mouthful and swallowed it with a hiss.
"Two years ago, Chad Padeaus was killed with a bullet to the back
of his head. He wasn't alone."
    She put her glass down. "The son of the
senator this McNally guy was involved with? I don't remember
reading about that. What I do remember was he was found alone in
Piedmont Park with his pants down. That's why they thought it was
some sexual encounter gone wrong. And once they found out the aide
was gay—"
    "Wasn't him. It was staged by the real
killer. And that killer knew Chad hadn't been alone. He was with a
guy in a hoodie and red Converse. They were kissing."
    "So Chad was gay."
    "Doesn't matter. The killer didn't see the
other guy 'til it was too late. Shot Chad in the head; the guy in
the hoodie took off running. The shooter planted the evidence to
frame Ferrell."
    This time her jaw dropped. "Wait…you're
saying the kid's death was a hit and Mason Ferrell really was
innocent?"
    He held up his glass again. "As a newborn
babe."
    "So did this shooter find
out who the—" She stopped as she stared at her