AfterNet 01 - Good Cop Dead Cop by Jennifer Petkus Read Free Book Online Page B

Just don’t let my wife see you. She’d kill you in a minute,” he laughed. He reached his big right hand across the table, “Ron Elbert.”
    She took a quick look at her hand before she took his. “Like the mountain? — Linda Yamaguchi.”
    Elbert, looked puzzled, then said, “Oh, I get it. I’m not a native, you know. Yes, I saw you talking to Bill Rybold. You’re the cop with the dead partner. Excuse me, disembodied partner.”
    “And you are …”
    “I work at The Denver Post .”
    “No you don’t. You’re the editor of The Denver Post .” She recognized him now. She gave him a ticket two years ago, before she teamed with Munroe. She didn’t think he’d recognized her from that, however.
    “That’s right. Some people don’t consider what I do work.” He laughed loud and deep. She recalled that he was an intimidating but friendly man, a weird combination that impressed her, even while he was sitting in his car calmly accepting his ticket.
    “So, Linda, what did Rybold want?” Apparently he was also a man who used first names unasked.
    “I’m not really sure. Maybe he was trying to hire me. My partner for sure.”
    “Interesting. Mr. Rybold’s a busy man.”
    “What makes you say that?”
    “Because he’s been hiring a lot of disembodied people lately, or anyway, he’s been said to be hiring them. He’s been hiring almost as many people as the AfterNet, but it’s hard to confirm.” Elbert stood up and Yamaguchi realized he was at least six feet five. “Nice to meet you again, Linda, under better circumstances, at least for me. See you again sometime.” He nodded and left.
    “Who was he?” Munroe asked in her ear.
    “Hey you’re back.”
    “I leave you alone a minute and you’ve already got a boyfriend.”
    “Cool it, dad. A, you were gone at least 20 minutes, and B, he’s the editor of The Denver Post , and I think he was pumping me for info about your admirer, Mr. Rybold.”
    “And I just had another contact with him in a chat room they set up here. There’re about 50 disembodied people invited to the party here.”
    “Really, and Elbert, that’s the Post editor, said Rybold’s been hiring a lot of disembodied people.”
    “Seems like I’m a hot commodity,” he said. “And I’m sure you are too, of course.”
    “Don’t go getting a swelled head, Alex,” she said and stifled a yawn.
    “Getting tired?”
    “Yeah, I think I am. I’m not used to these intrigues and I’m freezing.”
    “You do have goose bumps that go all over,” he said, after looking at her in infrared. “I think we’ve done our job. Let’s head out.”
    She took one last long gulp from what he was pleased to see was a glass of water and got up. The reception was still going strong and in one corner of the room, people were being photographed with the departing conductor.
    “Leaving already, Officer Munroe?” the disembodied something asked him through the terminal field at the door. By now, he was starting to view the terminal and hotspots throughout the ballroom as more intrusive than courteous and didn’t answer back. He and Yamaguchi made their exit after she collected her coat and returned to her car with little conversation except for the occasional assurances he gave her that he was in tow.
    Back in the car, she put her portable terminal back in the armband and wore it clumsily around the sleeve of her coat. But she also turned on the car radio to listen to NPR. Munroe tried to remember what she’d be listening to at this time on a Saturday night and guessed it would be some sort of new age ambient crap — or at least that was his interpretation of her description of it. He remembered that his estimation of her fell considerably the first time she mentioned that she liked that kind of thing. And he remembered her disparaging remark when he mentioned that he liked improvisational jazz. They were reduced to one-word conversations that week. Then he saw her eyelids droop.
    “Hey,