Angel's Tip by Alafair Burke Read Free Book Online Page A

After spending all weekend together, Ellie had insisted that they have two nights on their own so he could have some time to write.
    “Oh, tons. Forty pages, at least. A book contract is just around the corner, complete with an all-expenses-paid tour and a straight shot to the top of the best-seller list.” Peter tended to understate just how important his writing was to him, and sarcasm often proved handy on that front.
    “If you’re really on a roll, maybe we should take tomorrow night off, too.”
    “Don’t even joke. I was sort of hoping I could come over tonight.”
    “Nope. Two nights. Those are the rules.”
    “Damn you and your stinking rules.”
    “You were the one who told me it always takes you a day to get up to speed after a long break.”
    “Damn me and my big mouth.”
    “Tonight you’ll be in the zone,” Ellie said.
    The grumble on the other end of the line suggested he had doubts. “And tomorrow?”
    “And tomorrow, we’ll make up for lost time.”
    “Now I like the sound of that.”
    Rogan flipped his phone shut at the desk across from her.
    “Hey, I’ve got to run. I’ll call you tomorrow.”
    “Promise?”
    “I always mean what I say,” she said before hanging up.
    “Sorry about that,” Rogan said, holding up his cell. “With you dragging my ass out of bed so early this morning, I didn’t get a chance to take care of some personal business.”
    “No need to explain.”
    “So, turns out our girls from Indiana are a little tougher than you’d think. I told them we found a body this morning. Said you and I both saw her. That she resembles the picture they showed us of their friend.”
    “You didn’t tell them the rest, did you?”
    Rogan shook his head. “I made it clear there still needs to be an official ID, but they know we’re pretty confident this is Chelsea. For a couple of kids, they’re handling it all right. A whole lot of crying, of course, but I persuaded them to give me their phones until we’ve had a chance to call the family.” He opened his desk drawer to reveal two cell phones.
    “And we’ve got a sketch artist on the way?”
    “Done,” he said. “It sounds like they got a decent enough look at the shaggy-haired guy that we might have a shot with him. On the one they called Jake, their descriptions are so vague, it might be a lost cause. Anyway, that’s for the doodler to figure out. We can have a victim’s advocate get them back into the Hilton once they’re done here.”
    “So what’s next?”
    “I call the parents. You call CSU and the ME. See if they’re readyfor us.” Breaking the news of a daughter’s death compared to checking on the status of the crime scene unit and medical examiner’s office? Definitely not equal billing. The call to Indiana was something she had signed on for when she took responsibility for the girl she’d found during her run.
    To a cop, it was one call at the beginning of yet another case. One call to deliver the news before the real investigative work started. But to the people at the other end of the line, that one phone call would mark the indelible moment that changed everything they thought they knew to be true. One minute, they’re living their lives—worried about the costs of remodeling the kitchen, trying to lose a few pounds before the upcoming reunion, wondering what to eat for dinner. The next, the phone rings, and nothing else matters.
    Ellie’s father used to say that was the worst part of the job—the knowledge that good people would forever remember your voice, your words, that one phone call, as the moment that changed everything. Ellie wasn’t looking forward to making her first call to a family, but she knew she had to do it eventually.
    “Not exactly a fair trade,” she said.
    “That first call to a family is enough to rework your brain for the next twenty-four hours. I’d rather make the call than be stuck with a brain-dead partner all day.”
    Rogan was offering to carry the load