Ten Plagues by Mary Nealy Read Free Book Online Page B

second sitting in a park.”
    “You”—it was Paul’s turn to get jabbed at—”are going to shut up right now.”
    Five years ago he wouldn’t have backed down. He’d have ripped this blowhard’s finger off and shoved it down his throat.
    But he was a changed man. He didn’t feel real changed right at this moment, but he remembered what he was supposed to act like and let O’Shea keep his finger.
    “Let’s get out of here. I’ll buy us each a six-dollar cup of coffee and we can think about highway robbery instead of this case.”
    Paul looked across at Collins. She shrugged and opened her mouth—Paul thought to agree with him for a change, that they should keep working. O’Shea turned his blazing temper on her with a single look.
    With an exasperated growl, she threw her hands wide and led the way out of the police station.

    Paul leaned back on the park bench and drank the most outrageous cup of coffee he’d ever had. Caramel, mocha, cappuccino, latte, espresso, whatever.
    Maybe all those things. The cup was bigger than his head. His coffee usually ran to a brew so strong it could open the eyes of a man hungover for the thousandth morning in a row, and so hot it could warm the frostbitten toes of a woman who had cardboard in her shoes on a subzero Chicago morning. That coffee was made in a one-hundred-cup coffeepot that burned along all day.
    This coffee had whipped cream and chopped nuts on top. He sat drinking it while a monster acted out a plague on his friends.
    They chatted idly about the green grass and the blue sky. Every time they got on the subject of the horror they were dealing with, O’Shea would growl and they’d change the subject.
    Finally, O’Shea glanced at his wristwatch. “We’ve been here ten minutes. I’m going in. Your new cell phone should have been delivered by now. I’ll round it up. You two are staying for another five. I want you to figure out why you’ve been snapping and snarling at each other from the minute we started working today. You both want this case solved. You both know you need to cooperate to get it done. If I didn’t know better, I’d think there was something personal between you.”
    “Personal? Me and Rev? We just—”
    “Will you quit calling me Rev? Why don’t you—”
    “I promise I’ll lock you both in the lineup room if you don’t work this out.” O’Shea heaved himself to his feet. “We’ve got a murder to solve, and if I have to do it myself”—he turned on them—”because you two kids never learned how to work and play well with others—”
    His voice rose to a shout. “There’s gonna be payback for both of you.” Then a roar. “That you’ll still be stinging from, years from now.” He stormed off in a huff.
    The two of them stared after O’Shea in shock. Then they looked at each other.
    “Did he just threaten to spank us?” Paul asked.
    Keren looked at her coffee. Paul noticed she was fighting a grin. “Maybe. And that bit about the lineup sounds a little like being sent to our rooms.”
    “And this is definitely a time-out.” Paul swirled his mocha-shmocha-cappa whatever, trying to keep the concoction mixed up until he was done drinking it and to give himself something to do besides talk to Keren.
    Finally, she moved. He glanced up and saw she had her hand extended toward him. “Hi, my name is Keren Collins. It’s nice to meet you. Call me Keren.”
    Paul shook his head then took her hand. “My name is Paul.”
    “Oh I’m sorry, I heard your name was Rev. Where did I get a silly idea like that?”
    “Can’t imagine. So … truce?”
    Keren nodded. Then she said in a hesitant voice, “I know you’re a good man, Rev … I mean Paul.” She arched an eyebrow at him.
“Rev
really suits you.”
    “Paul or nothing.” Paul realized he was still holding her hand and dropped it. He rubbed his hand on his pant leg to cool it off.
    “I’m sorry I’ve been riding you so hard.” Keren glanced up at him. “I