L.A. Boneyard by P.A. Brown Read Free Book Online Page B

time to do some work in the garden.”
    Sunday, 9:10 AM, Cove Avenue, Silver Lake, Los Angeles When Chris rolled out of bed the next morning David was long gone. He fed Sergeant and took him outside, with the Sunday Times, which he read while the dog took care of business. He looked up when the dog stuck his cold nose between his legs. Chris patted his bony head.
    “Maybe we’ll take a walk down to the park. How does that sound?”
    Sergeant wagged his rump; it obviously pleased him.
    Chris went back inside and got the coffee going. While it brewed, he pulled out a yogurt and mixed fresh fruit with it.
    Coffee in hand, he sat at the kitchen table and finished the paper. When he couldn’t put it off anymore, he grabbed the phone and called the number the vet had given him. This time a woman answered.
    “I’m looking for a...” He checked the name that had been on the implanted microchip. “Barry Dustin.”
    “I’m sorry, you must have the wrong number—”
    Before she could hang up, he swung forward in his chair.
    “Wait. Did you used to own a Doberman. Big black and red male?”

    L.A. BONEYARD 41
    “What? No, my husband and I never owned anything bigger than a budgie. Why do you ask? Did someone tell you we did?”
    “Ah, this number came up on the dog’s ID. Did you just get this phone number?”
    “Not that it’s any of your business, but yes, we did.”
    “Sorry then, I guess he moved on.”
    She hung up without another word. Chris sighed, and looked down at Sergeant, who wagged his tail hopefully. “You get the feeling fate’s trying to tell us something? We can’t go back to the vet till tomorrow so I guess you’re stuck with me for another day.”
    They spent an hour down at the meadow, on the eastern shore of the reservoir, then Chris returned home to shower and dress for his lunch date with Des.
    Sunday, 12:30 PM, Northeast Community Police Station, San Fernando Road, Los Angeles
    David was grateful when Jairo didn’t mention last night.
    Maybe he realized it had been a huge mistake, too. They spent the morning writing up incident reports, for everybody and their uncle up the food chain. He also had a couple of 60-day reports to produce for two cold homicides that didn’t even have suspects to question. He hated those kinds of reports the worst.
    Finally he wrote up the RHD report on the park bodies, the elite Robbery and Homicide Division that often took on the more complex and newsworthy cases the other detective divisions picked up. He doubted RHD would want this mess.
    Too much possibility it would prove unsolvable. RHD detested those kinds of public nightmares worse than David. It would probably stay in their court. Lucky him.
    At twelve-thirty, they grabbed their suit jackets and headed out to David’s car. Jairo was duly impressed; he whistled.
    “Now that’s a nice set of wheels. You did all that yourself?”

    42 P.A. Brown
    “Yes,” David said stiffly. “Took me nearly six years, but I did it all.”
    “You must have spent a pretty penny on this one. Guess it helps having a rich boyfriend.”
    “My relationship isn’t really your concern.”
    “Right, you’re ‘married.’“
    David ignored the dig. His eyebrow went up. “So are you, as I remember. You tell your wife what you’re getting on the side?”
    “What do you think? She’s a good Catholic girl. The whole family is. No tolerance there, I assure you. But then you probably don’t know anything about that.”
    “You know what they say about assuming things. I didn’t exactly step out of the closet on my own.”
    “Was it worth it?”
    Considering that anything less than full disclosure would have meant losing Chris, and continuing to live a lie, yes, it had been. “Yeah, it was worth it. Something like that has a way of showing you who your real friends are.”
    “It’s still a huge risk. I’ve heard the way the guys talk. They get the sensitivity training up the kazoo and it doesn’t change