An Ice Cold Grave by Charlaine Harris Read Free Book Online Page A

guess you-all know what it’s like. Not only are we going to look like we were so uncaring we let some maniac kill eight boys before we noticed, but we’re going to look credulous in the extreme.”
    If the shoe fits, I thought.
    â€œWe’d leave now if we could,” Tolliver said, and I nodded. “We don’t want to be around for the circus.” Some media attention was good for my business; a lot of media attention was not.
    Sheriff Rockwell sat back in the motel chair, a sudden motion that made us look at her. She was giving us a strange look.
    â€œWhat?” Tolliver asked.
    â€œI’d never have believed you two’d pass at the chance for free publicity,” she said. “I think the better of you for it. Are you really ready to go? Maybe I can ask the SBI boys to drive to the next town to talk to you, if you want to switch motels tonight.”
    â€œWe’ll leave Doraville tonight,” I said. I felt like a huge weight had been shifted off my shoulders. I’d been sure the sheriff would insist we stay. I hate police cases. I like the cemetery bookings. Get to the town, drive out to the cemetery, meet the survivors, stand on the grave, tell the survivors what you saw. Cash the check and leave the town. Sheriff Rockwell was at least allowing us to get out of the immediate vicinity.
    â€œLet’s wait until morning,” Tolliver said. “You’re still pretty shaky.”
    â€œI can rest in the car,” I said. I felt like a rabbit one jump ahead of the greyhounds.
    â€œOkay,” Tolliver said. He looked at me doubtfully. But he was picking up on my almost frantic anxiety to leave Doraville.
    â€œGood,” said the sheriff. She still sounded faintly surprised at our agreement. “I’m sure Twyla will want to give you a check and talk to you again.”
    â€œWe’ll talk to her before we leave the area for good. How’s the work at the scene going?” he asked as the sheriff pulled herself wearily from the chair and walked to the door.
    She had mentally shoved us aside, so she turned back with reluctance. “We’ve dug just enough at all the spots to confirm that there are remains there,” she said. “Tomorrow morning, when the light is good, the forensic guys will be here to supervise the digging. I’m guessing my deputies will do most of the preliminary heavy work. Klavin and Stuart are supposed to keep me in the loop.” She seemed pretty dubious about that.
    â€œThat’s a good thing, right?” I said, almost babbling in my rush of relief. “Having the forensic guys in? They’ll know how to dig the bodies up without losing any evidence that’s there to be found.”
    â€œYeah, we don’t like admitting we need help, but we do.” Sandra Rockwell looked down at her hands for a minute, as if making sure they were her own. “I’ve personally gotten phone calls from CNN and two other networks. So you should leave really early in the morning, or take off right now. And call me when you check into another motel. Don’t leave the state or anything. Don’t forget that you’ll have to talk to the SBI guys.”
    â€œWe’ll do that,” Tolliver said.
    She left without further advice, and I grabbed my suitcase. It would take me less than ten minutes to be out of there.
    Tolliver got up, too, and began sticking his razor and shaving cream into his valet kit. “Why are you so anxious to go?” he asked. “I think you need to sleep.”
    â€œIt was so bad, what I saw,” I said. I paused in my packing, a folded sweater in my hands. “The last thing in the world I want to do is get sucked into this investigation. I’ll get the atlas. We better decide which way we want to go.”
    Though I was still a little unsteady on my feet, I grabbed our keys off the top of the TV. While Tolliver checked the stock in our ice chest, I stepped out