The Shark (Forgotten Files Book 1) Read Online Free PDF

considered applying for the promotion to agent, but moving up meant leaving Cooper to a new handler, and that she’d never do. As long as Cooper could work, she’d be with him. “Maybe, one day.”
    “Ah, come on. You have to admit your career is gonna get a boost.”
    “I was doing my job.”
    Blue eyes narrowed. “I heard you had help on that mountain.”
    “Really?”
    “Two other deputies said they were there for the arrest. Said they pulled Carter off the mountain.”
    She smiled, refusing to let him annoy her. “They arrived later, but I don’t recall seeing anyone around when I was cuffing Carter to a tree.”
    He took a step closer. “You don’t get all the credit. Team effort.”
    “Right.”
    He tugged the brim of his hat lower over his eyes. “What can you tell me about the victim?”
    “Victim is a young female. Brown hair. Wearing a white top and jeans. Brown boots.”
    Nodding, he dug crime scene tape from his trunk and crossed the field to within five feet of the body. “Looks like one of those hookers from the truck stops. The ones you’re always trying to save.”
    Annoyed, she studied the mop of hair draped over the victim’s face. In the few years Riley had been working the I-95 corridor, she’d learned none of the prostitutes were in the profession by choice. Pimps promising a better life coerced many of the young girls into the sex trade. But guys like DuPont didn’t see sex slaves or human trafficking victims. They saw hookers or strippers looking to make quick cash.
    All local law enforcement along the I-95, which cut a two-hundred-mile swath through the center of the state, knew she cared about cases like this one.
    “Russell Hudson is anxious to get back to work. With the concert coming, he can’t waste hours in the middle of the day,” DuPont said.
    “I asked him to stay for now.”
    “Doesn’t make sense. Russell didn’t kill that girl.” His gaze scanned the field. “He’s making a fortune leasing the land. We haven’t had a murder in this county in a couple of years.”
    “Officer Tatum?” her radio squawked.
    She pressed the microphone button at her chest. “Tatum.”
    “Forensics has been dispatched. About a half hour away.”
    “Roger.”
    DuPont’s gaze narrowed as he glanced up at the clear, cloudless sky. “Nothing to do but sit and wait.”
    The idea of standing here and waiting made her skin crawl. She wasn’t good with stillness, much less listening to DuPont’s latest theory on politics. “I’m going to take my dog for a look around the field. He might find something.”
    “Suit yourself.”
    She tugged Cooper’s line. “Ready to do some work?”
    The dog barked and wagged his tail.
    Cooper sniffed the air and tugged on the line. They moved back toward the tall grass, and Cooper took her straight to the body. He wasn’t a cadaver dog, but the scent was strong and hard to ignore. She let him sniff the ground and the area before he turned from the body and guided her into a thicket of woods. She followed, not sure where they were going. They were thirty feet into the woods when she spotted the black backpack sitting on the ground. Cooper sat in front of it, barked, and wagged his tail. She rubbed him on the head and praised him for the find.
    Kneeling, she opted not to touch the bag. She’d bet money it belonged to the victim. She waved to DuPont to mark the place, and when he finally made his way with an orange flag, she and Cooper kept searching.
    By the time two more deputy patrol cars arrived, she and Cooper had searched a large grid area of the grassland and found nothing else. News of the Woodstock-like concert planned here in early October was exciting for many of the local businesses. Hotels within sixty miles were sold out, and restaurants and food vendors were gearing up. What would happen now was anyone’s guess.
    When she heard the engine of the forensic van arrive, she returned to the crime scene. She glanced across the field and