In the Dead of Night by Aiden James Read Free Book Online Page B

crimson and various organ, muscle, and vascular bits thrown in for good measure. Very few surfaces in the room were spared a splattered portion of Mr. Rollins.
    I’m sure she hated telling me this, but her eyes bore a glint of satisfaction, too. Nothing like a punch to the gut to get your horror-loving husband to back off and find something much more pleasant to talk about. Nausea kept me from finishing the rest of my cherished Irish ale….
    “So, you decided to come after all!”
    We had just pulled into Tom’s carport that evening, and Jackie ran over to Fiona and threw her arms around her before my wife could close the Camaro’s passenger door.
    “I’m so sorry about what happened to Dickey,” she said, her expression pained. She hugged Fiona even tighter. “Well…let’s see if we can cheer you up. Just wait until you see Tom’s new studio!”
    Jackie glanced back at Angie, standing near the back door, at the edge of Tom’s covered carport.
    “It’s really bad-ass!” Angie enthused, grinning wryly as she stepped over to my wife and Jackie, offering her own warm hug to Fiona and a soft kiss on her forehead. “And, he showed us some of the infrared pictures from last night—you’ll be quite surprised!”
    Dressed in jeans and near-identical tie-dye t-shirts, their hair was pulled back in ponytails not unlike the one I wore. Ready to do some more investigating later tonight, or maybe hit a club or two? My only concern was for Fiona, since she’d expressed a desire to get home at a decent hour, and Jackie or Angie would be her ride home tonight. I’d get home much later, since I had rehearsal with my band mates after tonight’s review of the evidence we gathered last night from Charlain Thompson’s place.
    “Is everyone ready to eat yet?” Tom peered over the backyard’s wooden fence, a beer bottle in one hand and a spatula in the other. The aroma of roasted hot dogs and hamburgers wafted toward us, stronger now than earlier. “Hey, Jimmy…Fiona. I can’t remember if you like your burgers well done or with a little pink in them.”
    “Either way is fine,” said Fiona, usually agreeable unless a burger bore burnt edges.
    “Nothing that looks like shoe leather,” I said, not so agreeable when it comes to the version of roasted cow I prefer.
    “Did you remember Fiona’s dessert pizza?” he asked, nudging his glasses toward the bridge of his nose with his grilling mitt. “You can’t enter the back yard without it!”
    Despite the glare from several tiki torches reflecting off his wired lenses, I caught a glint of amusement, his eyes twinkling for a nanosecond.
    “I almost forgot,” I said, nudging Fiona to go on without me while I went back to the car for our contribution to tonight’s grill potluck.
    A recipe of my mom’s, the pizza is a concoction of fresh strawberries, blueberries, peaches, kiwi, and banana slices laid out on a pastry crust and covered with a light cream-cheese icing. I have to say it’s a hell of lot better tasting than it may sound, and something easy to whip up on short notice. It was perfect for tonight’s get-together, after Tom had called that afternoon with the news he’d finished developing the video and still-frame shots from last night’s investigation.
    “Umm that looks really yummy!” said Angie, once I rejoined the females gathered just inside the back gate.
    She’d never had the pleasure of sampling the dessert dish before. Fiona hadn’t made it since last summer. If not for Tom asking for it today, we probably would’ve picked up a pecan pie from Kroger on the way.
    “It tastes awesome!” I told her, sliding by on my way to a long redwood picnic table. Yeah, I guess I’m a little proud of Mom and Fiona’s party delicacy. “The only thing sounding better than this right now is an ice cold brew!”
    “Think fast, Rock Star!”
    I turned just in time to catch a Miller Lite can flying through the air toward me, while Tom and the girls held their