Property Of by CP Smith Read Free Book Online Page A

before he asked, “Are you sure?”
    “I’m sure I don’t want June to tear you a new one.”
    Nodding, Reed stood and grabbed his suit jacket from his chair. He watched his partner for a moment, but as he turned to leave, he called out, “See you in the morning, Vaughn. Just so, you know, Sandra Dee may have caught your eye, but it’ll take Sandra Bullock to hold your attention. You need someone feisty, willing to talk back to you; not the perfect woman from 1950.”
    Dallas grinned at his partner and shook his head. For a man, and a cop, Bill Reed had a romantic side. He tried to fix Dallas up on more than one occasion, all of them disasters. Dallas didn’t need or want any distractions right now, though. He needed to focus his attention on the Shallow Grave Killer. With that in mind, he opened the file as he watched his partner leave and he began looking for a link to his other victims.
     
     
     
     
     
     

Four
     
     
     
    Standing outside the two-story building that housed the detective's division for the Tulsa Police Department, I hesitated. Even though I’d promised the girls I wouldn’t work on the book without them, I didn’t think speaking with a detective about police procedure qualified. I figured there wasn’t any harm in gaining insight into police investigations while they were at work. The reason for my hesitance wasn’t that they would be angry, but more about running into a certain detective again.
    I’d called ahead and spoken with a Lieutenant Cross. He was a gruff man who’d sounded extremely put out by my request, but finally agreed to let me speak with a detective. I’d specifically asked for a seasoned officer, one who had been on the force more than ten years, hoping to avoid a certain detective for obvious reasons—I was embarrassed he’d seen my ass in the air. I may be extremely attracted to the man, but the last two times we’d come into contact had been disasters. However, attracted or not, since I was using him for my hero it was best if I steered clear of him. Preferably, an ocean’s distance between us, but since I couldn’t disappear as I always did to write this book, I’d have to settle for precautionary measures such as calling ahead to ask for a older officers to help me. Dammit, I should have asked for a woman detective. That would have assured me I wouldn’t end up with Triple D.
    The Lieutenant had put me on hold, then, after a few minutes, he’d returned and barked out, “I’ve got someone in-house if you can come within the next hour.” I agreed immediately, of course, and he told me to report to the second floor and ask for a Detective Bill Reed. When I asked his age, so there were no surprises, he’d growled, “Old and ugly. You wanna talk to Reed; get down here in an hour.” Then he’d hung up as abruptly as he'd spoken.
    He was totally going in my book.
    So, here I was, entering the elevator of the detective division, on my way up with a notebook, coffee in hand, sunglasses and a baseball cap covering my face and hair . . . just in case.
    When the doors opened, I took a deep breath and exited. I walked down the hall until I found the door that read Detectives Division. When I walked in, I found what I expected in a civic building. Gray everything. The walls, the floors, even the desks. The standard and boring city-issued décor was quite honestly kinda cool in a Law and Order kind of way. Since I’d started writing, I’d had to rely on history books and pictures to influence my stories and keep them authentic. Seeing these offices helped to cement in my mind the world my characters would live in daily. It was actually exciting to be able to see firsthand how my fictional world would develop.
    After taking in the room, I approached the receptionist. She was an older woman with gray hair and a kind smile, who was dressed smartly in a business casual blue blouse and black slacks. I told her why I was there and she put the phone to her ear and