Grave Apparel by Ellen Byerrum Read Free Book Online Page B

watch, then at the child. Where the hell is that ambulance?! “What’s your name? And where are your parents anyway? Are you meeting them somewhere?”
    “You ask a lot of questions,” the boy said.
    “So do you,” Lacey said. “Why were you in the alley?” “Why do you ask so many questions?”
    She could ask him the same thing. “It’s my job. I’m a reporter.”
    The shepherd cracked a small smile. “That’s a funny job. All you do is ask questions?”
    “I do. And after I ask questions I write stories about the an swers.” A siren suddenly howled in the distance and grew louder. “I work for the newspaper in this building, The Eye Street Observer . That’s where Cassandra works too. She’s a writer too. My name is Lacey Smithsonian.” She extended her hand. “And you are?”
    He shook her hand very formally, but he didn’t offer his name. “Lacey Smithsonian? And you’re a reporter. And your phone number is—” He rattled off her cell number. A quick learner. “Are you going to put this in the paper?”
    “I don’t know. Someone will.” “You gonna mention me?”
    “You’re a hero. You saved her. So maybe we will. What’s your name?”
     
    He seemed to finally consider this, rolling it over in his mind, but the name was not forthcoming. He touched Lacey’s mouton coat with its thick fur. “I like your coat. It’s soft.”
    “Thank you. It’s warm. It was my aunt’s.” “Handmedown, huh?” He nodded sagely. “I know all about that.”
    “Yes. A handmedown. Tell me something,” Lacey said. “You picked up her cell phone?”
    “It fell on the ground. You can make it call the last number it called, you know? I figured you must be her friend, so you would come and help her.”
    Cassandra’s friend? He didn’t know that Lacey almost didn’t answer the call. A twinge of guilt hit her. “Where is her phone now?”
    “I don’t know.” The child made a dramatic show of looking up and down the alley. He shrugged. “Musta lost it.”
    Lacey smiled and lifted her eyebrow. “You got a hidden pocket in that robe?” No answer. “How old are you anyway?”
    “Fifteen.”
    “Uhhuh. I think you’re more like ten. Or eleven.”
    Offended, the shepherd set her straight. “I am totally almost thirteen!”
    “So you’re twelve.” Lacey could believe twelve. A small twelve.
    “Almost thirteen! Twelve and three quarters.” The little shepherd boy smiled, showing pretty white teeth. But he froze at the sound of police sirens suddenly almost on top of them.
    “The police are going to want a statement,” Lacey said. “I’ll help you.”
    “Nuh uh. I don’t talk to the police. It’s my policy.” The boy started walking, then running, as the blueandred flashing lights of a Metropolitan Police car entered the Eye Street end of the alley. An ambulance was right behind it.
    “Wait! You won’t get in trouble. I promise!” She started to follow him, but she didn’t want to leave the injured Cassandra. “There could be a reward,” Lacey shouted. “A reward from the newspaper. Wait! Come back!”
    But the child was running fast now. Lacey caught a final glimpse of blueandwhite stripes flashing under a streetlight at the far end of the alley. Then the little shepherd boy was gone.
Ch ap t e r 5
    In moments the alley was full of people, the ambulance, three police cars and the newest member of The Eye staff. With her freckled face, Kelly Kavanaugh looked like a kid on her way to study hall. Her straight brown hair hung to her shoulders and her straight bangs reached to her eyebrows. Kavanaugh wore khaki slacks, a lightweight green windbreaker zipped up to her neck, and a pair of cross trainers. The junior member of the po lice beat was not dressed for the office Christmas party.
    Okay, you’re a cops reporter, Kavanaugh, let’s see you re port, Lacey thought. Let me know if there’s a fashion clue I can decode for you.
    The EMTs were checking Cassandra and preparing to lift