The Morning After Read Online Free PDF

Never. Not the daughter of the Honorable Ron Gillette.
    Somehow, some way, Nikki would ferret out everything there was to know about Detective Pierce Reed. Maybe she’d come up dry, with nothing of interest. Maybe Reed was about as interesting as a dirty gym sock. She smiled. No way. In her gut, she sensed there was a story around the elusive cop. She’d just have to uncover it, no matter how many layers deep Reed had covered it.
     
     
    The life-flight chopper took off in a noisy whir of rotors as it lifted from the floor of the ravine. In a rush of winter air, it scaled the forested cliffs before disappearing over a hill. On the trail halfway up the cliff face, Detective Davis McFee turned his gaze on the young boy shivering before him. The kid was scared as hell, that much was certain, but other than the older boy might not survive, McFee didn’t know much.
    McFee’s partner, Bud Ellis, took over. “Let’s go over this again, Billy Dean. You were out hunting and something spooked your friend.”
    “My cousin—er, second cousin.”
    “Prescott Jones?”
    “Yeah. Me ’n him hang out a lot.”
    “It’s not huntin’ season.”
    “Yeah.” The pimple-faced kid had enough smarts to look down at the ground and dig his toe into the soft earth.
    Jones’s story was that he and his cousin had been tracking a deer, following the wounded buck down into the ravine, stumbled upon what looked like a grave and something had spooked the Jones kid. Scared spitless, he’d scrambled up the hill along with Billy Dean’s dog, and by the time Billy Dean had climbed to this section of the trail, he’d discovered that his cousin had fallen down a steep precipice on the switchback.
    In the fall, Jones had cracked his skull, broken three ribs and splintered his right forearm. He’d also scratched the hell out of his face and shattered his glasses. The EMT in the chopper wasn’t sure, but the kid could also have a punctured spleen or some other internal injury, no doubt a concussion. McFee wasn’t certain the older boy hadn’t been pushed down. Maybe the two boys got into a fight, maybe they were just squirreling around, but somehow Prescott Jones had ended up fifty feet below and beat to crap.
    Ellis prompted, “So you was chasin’ him up the hill?”
    “No, sir. I was followin ’ him and old Red, wherever the hell that mutt is. Anyway, when I got ta here, I seen him down there.” He pointed down the steep hillside, into the woods below. “I couldn’t get to him so I kept runnin’ to the truck. His pa’s got a cell phone in there and had to drive a mile for reception but then I called you all right quick. That’s what happened. I swear.” The kid’s teeth were chattering from the cold or fear or both.
    “And you found a grave down at the bottom of the holler?” Ellis asked.
    “Yes, sir.” Billy Dean nodded so furiously that a lock of his dirty blond hair flopped up and down between his eyebrows.
    “Let’s take a look-see.” Ellis cast a glance at McFee and they followed the boy to the bottom of the trail where, on one side of the clearing was a gutted buck, his innards spilled onto the ground, and, nearby, just as the kid had sworn, was a mound of fresh earth, appearing for all it was worth like a grave. McFee didn’t like the looks of it. He pulled out his can of tobacco and stuffed a wad near his gum. What the hell was beneath the surface? Maybe another dead deer. Maybe nothing. Maybe trash…though usually trash was left strewn about without much care. This was a pit that was covered, but the earth hadn’t been camouflaged with leaves or sticks or foliage to hide it. Aside from the fact that the grave, if that’s what it was, was tucked deep into this ravine, whoever had buried something here had left it visible to anyone who passed.
    It was odd. Damned odd. “Let’s see what’s in there,” he said to Ellis.
    “Shouldn’t we call the sheriff? Maybe we need a crime scene unit.”
    “For what