Vanish: A Rizzoli & Isles Novel Read Online Free PDF Page B

stairwell!”
    The gavel slammed down. “Let’s take a recess. Please escort the jurors out.”
    “Oh yeah! Let’s take a
recess
!” Rollo laughed and shoved away the bailiff. “Just when they’re finally hearing the truth!”
    “Get him out of here, Sergeant Givens.”
    Givens grabbed Rollo’s arm. Enraged, Rollo twisted around and charged, his head thudding into the bailiff’s belly. They both slammed to the floor and began to grapple. Victoria Quinlan stared, openmouthed, as her client and the bailiff flopped around just inches from her high-heeled Manolo Blahniks.
    Ah, Jesus. Someone’s gotta take control of this mess.
    Jane heaved herself out of the chair. Shoving aside the stunned Quinlan, Jane snatched up the bailiff’s handcuffs, which he’d dropped on the floor in the confusion.
    “Assistance!” yelled the judge, banging on his gavel. “We need another bailiff in here!”
    Sergeant Givens was lying on his back now, pinned beneath Rollo, who was just raising his right fist to deliver a blow. Jane grabbed Rollo’s raised wrist and snapped on one of the cuffs.
    “What the fuck?” Rollo said.
    Jane rammed her foot into his back, twisted his arm behind him, and shoved him down against the bailiff. Another click, and the second cuff closed around Rollo’s left wrist.
    “Get off me, you fucking cow!” Rollo screamed. “You’re breaking my back!”
    Sergeant Givens, trapped at the bottom of the pileup, looked like he was about to suffocate beneath the weight.
    Jane took her foot off Rollo’s back. Suddenly a gush of hot liquid flooded from between her legs, splashing down onto Rollo, onto Givens. She stumbled backward and looked down in shock at her soaked maternity dress. At the fluid dripping from her thighs onto the courtroom floor.
    Rollo twisted onto his side and stared up at her. Suddenly he laughed. He couldn’t stop laughing as he rolled onto his back. “Hey,” he said. “Look at that! The bitch just peed in her dress!”

FOUR
    Maura was stopped at a traffic light in Brookline Village when Abe Bristol rang her on her cell phone. “Did you watch TV this morning?” he asked.
    “Don’t tell me the story’s already made the news.”
    “Channel six. Reporter’s name is Zoe Fossey. Did you speak to her?”
    “Only briefly last night. What did she say?”
    “In a nutshell? ‘Woman found alive in body bag. Medical examiner blames the Weymouth Fire Department and state police for misdiagnosing death.”
    “Oh Jesus. I never said that.”
    “I know you didn’t. But now we’ve got a pissed-off fire chief down in Weymouth, and the state police aren’t too happy either. Louise is already fielding calls from them.”
    The traffic light turned green. As she drove through the intersection, she suddenly wished she could turn around and go home. Wished she could avoid the ordeal to come.
    “Are you at the office?” she asked.
    “I got in at seven. Thought you’d be here by now.”
    “I’m in my car. I needed a few extra hours this morning to prepare that statement.”
    “Well, I’ve gotta warn you, when you get here, you’re going to get ambushed in the parking lot.”
    “They’re hanging around out there?”
    “Reporters, TV vans. They’re parked on Albany Street. Running back and forth between our building and the hospital.”
    “How convenient for them. One-stop shopping for the press.”
    “Have you heard anything more about the patient?”
    “I called Dr. Cutler this morning. He said the patient’s tox screen came back positive for barbiturates and alcohol. She must’ve been pretty loaded.”
    “That probably explains why she took a tumble into the water. And with barbs on board, no wonder they had trouble finding her vital signs.”
    “Why is this turning into such a feeding frenzy?”
    “Because it’s prime
National Enquirer
stuff. The dead rising from the grave. Plus, she’s a young woman, isn’t she?”
    “I’d say she’s in her twenties.”
    “And