Moon Music by Faye Kellerman Read Free Book Online Page A

this."
    "Probably before your time, sir. Roughly twenty-five years ago."
    "A good ten years before."
    Poe said, "Even then I doubt if it infiltrated into the Strip. If the powers that were kept atomic testing under wraps, I don't imagine a couple of murders would be a problem. But back then, in the 'burbs…" He raised his brow. "It freaked us out."
    "Do you even remember the specifics?" Jensen remarked.
    Poe suddenly felt a chill. Things that happened in childhood…so much more intense. "There were rumors. Probably apocryphal, but they said that the killer had desecrated the corpses. He had scooped out the eyeballs—"
    "Omelets, anyone?" Myra chirped. In the middle of the table, she plunked down a platter of scrambled eggs filled with pastrami, salami, and smoked turkey. Big chunks of flesh-colored meat gelatinously wrapped in quivering ovum.
    Jensen said, "Ever notice how visceral-looking eggs are?"
    The table groaned.
    Unceremoniously, Myra dropped four plates and silverware onto the table along with a carton of Mocha Mix. She put graceful, blue-veined hands on her hips. She had short nails…immaculately clean. She was in her mid-fifties, hazel eyes with short gray hair cut like Prince Valiant's. A round, open face which, at the moment, spelled annoyance. She wore a white shirt, gray skirt, and white chef's apron. Tennis shoes covered her feet. "You have complaints, take it elsewhere."
    "Looks good to me." Jensen picked up a spoon and a plate, then heaped eggs on his dish. "Looks wonderful, in fact. Thanks, Myra. I'm starved."
    The woman smiled warmly. "More coffee, Steve? Orange juice?"
    "Both would hit the spot, thank you."
    Weinberg passed out the remaining dishes. "Help yourselves."
    Patricia eyed the eggs. Now if she was going to eat toast, she'd better give herself a small portion of omelet. A pause. Then again, she hadn't eaten since dinnertime last night. And it was half past ten. Still, all that salami and pastrami. All that fat! Wherever she looked…subversion.
    Poe poured Mocha Mix into his coffee. "You know, you're spoiling us, Myra."
    "She spoils everyone." The lieutenant polished off his coffee. "We have so many people running in and out of our condo, I'm thinking about selling time shares."
    "Everyone loves Vegas," Myra said.
    "Everyone loves a freebie," Patricia said.
    "You got that right, Deluca. We keep getting all these out-ofthe-blue relatives popping in. People she's never heard of, let alone met." Weinberg looked at his wife. "But she lets them stay anyway."
    "Just in case," Myra answered.
    "In case of what ?" Jensen asked.
    Myra stared at him, shrugged.
    "As if that explains it," Weinberg groused. "Are you going to turn on the fan, Myra?"
    "Yeah, it is kind of stuffy, isn't it." She spooned eggs onto her husband's plate. "Eat before they get cold, Mick. I'll get the toast." Before Myra left, she tapped his head.
    From his pants pocket, Weinberg pulled out a yarmulke. He placed it over his bald pate. To Poe, he said, "So what made you think of this twenty-five-year-old case? The scooped-out eye?"
    "Probably."
    "Was it true?" Patricia asked.
    "Beats me." Poe shifted the conversation. "Loo, I think Trent Minors deals the noon-to-midnight shift. I'll try to catch him before he goes to work."
    "Good idea. I also want one of you to go back and comb the scene of the crime now that we have some visibility. I got a uniform out there guarding the place. The sooner the better."
    Jensen asked, "What should we be looking for?"
    Weinberg chomped at a piece of pastrami gristle. "She was found nude from the waist up. Maybe some kind of top…shoes…maybe a purse." He washed down his breakfast with a full cup of water. "Some storm last night. The wind could have blown items all over the effing place."
    " If the killer dumped her belongings along with the body," Poe said.
    Patricia said, "Think the killer would want to keep a trophy, Loo?"
    "Sure. But how likely would it be that he'd keep everything? We found her