Stormwind (The Storm Chronicles Book 3) by Skye Knizley Read Free Book Online

man they’d seen carted away to the morgue only a few hours before.
    She donned a pair of gloves from her pocket and took a sample of the salt for possible matching with the crust on the victim. She was just putting the sample in her pocket when she heard Levac’s voice and a gunshot. She turned toward the room’s second door and kicked it open. She slid through and turned, her green eyes immediately picking out Levac on the catwalk above. A huge, grey-skinned man, bald and naked from the waist up held Levac at arm’s length, strangling him with one massive hand while the detective flailed ineffectively, trying to get loose. Raven reached for her pistol but realized from this angle the .30 carbine bullet would pass through the grey-skinned man and into Levac unless she went for a head shot. And she needed the giant alive.
    With a snarl Raven jumped toward a nearby conveyor. She pushed off and flipped backwards onto the steps above, placing her behind the giant. From there she could see Levac’s eyes bulging and him mouthing the words, “Shoot him! Shoot him now!”
    “Chicago Police!” Raven yelled. “Let him go, you are under arrest.”
    The giant dropped Levac and turned, his fists clenching. Raven held up her badge. “Lie down on the floor and put your hands behind your back.”
    The grey-skinned man growled and charged.  Raven back-peddled and drew her pistol. She felt the comfortable weight in her hand and raised the barrel toward the charging figure, aiming low and to the right. She squeezed the trigger and the gun bucked in her hand, the barrel spitting flame and a silver-jacketed round. The bullet caught the target in the shoulder, spinning him sideways and causing him to stumble. He crashed through the rusting handrail and fell, impaling himself on the bottling equipment twenty-five feet below. Raven leaned over the edge and looked down at the body, her pistol at her side. The man’s blood was slowly filling a collection of old root beer bottles much more efficiently than they’d been filled back in the 80s. Not a drop was going on the floor.
    “Swell. That’s a lead that won’t be answering any questions.”
    Levac joined her, one hand rubbing the bruise on his neck. “Frost is going to be annoyed you killed another suspect. Thanks, by the way. You missed me by about an inch.”
    Raven turned away and walked back down the stairs. “At least I missed you. Come on let’s get Harvey and the boys in here so I can go face the music.”
     
     
    TWO HOURS LATER RAVEN SAT in Lieutenant Frost’s office, her legs crossed primly, one foot waggling. The office looked like something out of a B cop movie with grey filing cabinets, a wide grey desk with an antique telephone, windows that overlooked the city and blind-covered windows that looked into the squad room. The only decorations were a handful of photographs, including one of the Lieutenant and Raven’s father when they’d been partners, and a few dozen commendations, many with Raven’s name on them.
    The Lieutenant sat behind his desk, a collection of files beside him. The thin, white-haired man was flipping through Raven’s report. It didn’t take long. When he looked up his steel blue eyes were angry and Raven had to stifle a grin. Anger just didn’t look right on Dick Van Dyke’s face.
    “You and Levac were doing a good job…right up to the point where you killed the only potential suspect in this case,” he said, closing the folder.
    “I didn’t actually kill him,” Raven replied. “I shot him in the shoulder. It was the fall and sudden stop on top of a few hundred broken bottles that killed him.”
    “Maybe if you weren’t using that damn cannon of your father’s it would have been a smaller wound and he wouldn’t have fallen!” the Lieutenant growled back.
    Raven rolled her eyes. “Get serious, Chris! You saw the body, that guy was seven feet tall and five hundred pounds, easy. He could have palmed your head, do you really