Destiny: The Girl in the Box #9 by Robert J. Crane Read Free Book Online Page A

has got to be one of the most heavily trafficked roadways in the US,” Scott said. “You’d think there’d be something.”
    “Why cut her and then bludgeon her?” I asked. I looked back from the strip to the broken wall. “Totally overmatched her, lifted her off her feet—that has to be a meta.”
    “Well, she was a meta,” Scott said, “so wouldn’t it make sense if she was running with a meta crowd?”
    “That wasn’t Charlie’s style,” I said, and I looked around absently as I felt the beads of sweat start on my upper lip. “She liked to be the toughest one in the room; it gave her an advantage. She preyed on weakness, she didn’t admire strength.” I looked at her splatter marks, and realized the blood had sprayed outward in its own circular pattern. “When she was overmatched, she’d run. So she got cut and she ran. But they caught her and killed her anyway.” I tapped my fingers against my chin. “Is it possible …?” I let my voice trail off.
    “You’re thinking she got caught up in the extinction?” Scott asked.
    “That medical examiner said they’d been busy lately,” I said and wiped the sweat off my upper lip. The heat was starting to make my back itch, but there wasn’t much I could do about that at the moment.
    “Look at you, following up on leads and suggesting patterns,” Scott said, “like a regular Sherlock.”
    “Sherlock would already have it figured out by now,” I said and finally turned away from the wall. I couldn’t look at it anymore. My face melted into a cringe. I wasn’t close to tears, but the sight of it … hurt, for some reason. Sickened me.
    “Come on,” Scott said, and put his hand on my shoulder again. I started back toward the car and he walked beside me. “I’ll call the LVMPD and see if I can track down some video for this … this …” He was lost for words.
    “Call it what it is,” I said as I shrugged his hand off my shoulder when we broke at the car; I headed to my side and he to the driver’s. “It was a slaughter. Pure and simple.” I glanced back one last time at the bloody, broken wall where my aunt had been crowned into the afterlife. “Whoever did this, Charlie never stood a chance against them.”

 
     
Chapter 10
     
    We were sharing a suite at the Palazzo, which was not as awkward as it sounded. Scott, because he was a gentleman (or possibly because he feared death), had volunteered to sleep on the couch. I was undecided about whether I would take him up on that or let him sleep in the bed. If he’d worn as much cologne as he used to, it would have been the couch for sure. Now that he’d learned some moderation, I was torn.
    We’d stowed our baggage and nipped downstairs to the Palazzo’s promenade for dinner at a steakhouse that looked entirely too fancy. They didn’t balk at the fact I was wearing jeans under my blazer, though, and I didn’t balk when they handed me a menu that included a rib eye that cost more than fifty dollars.
    I did, however, consider putting the menu down and leaving. But I didn’t. Because it wasn’t like I couldn’t pay for it out of my own pocket if I needed to. I didn’t spend money on anything else, and my housing was paid for, after all.
    “Nice of the Agency to splurge for dinner,” Scott said with a smile, glancing over the leather-bound menu. His voice made him sound pensive, but I suspect he was closer to drooling. We hadn’t had lunch, and it was close to seven o’clock our time. “Living first class on the taxpayer’s dime.”
    “We’ve never gotten a cent of taxpayer money,” I said, probably a little defensively. As putative head of the Agency, it was probably my responsibility to defend budgetary decisions. Which we didn’t really worry about, since Congress never asked about our budget and we never asked them for money. “Ariadne didn’t say anything about a budget for this trip, so …”
    Scott smiled as he looked up from behind the menu. “I bet she won’t