Untold Damage by Robert K. Lewis Read Free Book Online Page B

was the crunch of broken glass under his boot. There was a framed photo nearby, the glass broken and gone. It was of Eric and Jenna, taken on some beach somewhere.
    Mallen couldn’t help himself. Picked it up. Eric looked happy. So did Jenna. She had intelligent eyes. A kind smile. Pretty lady. He and Chris had looked that happy, too, at one point in their story together.
    He stole another glance around the room. There was a desk in the living room. Seemed to be the main focus of the search. He went over. Old habits die hard , he thought, remembering back to all the tossed rooms he’d ever investigated. What could someone be looking for? The laptop was still there, on the floor where it had been tossed. Not a burglary. Then he picked up a drawer that had been thrown on the ground. The only thing left in it was a business card that had caught in the side, where the bottom and back met. He pulled it out. A counseling center for drug addicts and ex-cons. Phoenix Today was the name. On impulse he put the card in his pocket. Maybe he could call them, get some help. He turned back to face the rest of the room but couldn’t shake the feeling there was someone else there. Went quietly to the hallway. Noticed a few dark droplets on the wood floor. Blood. Put his back to the wall even as his mind shouted at him to just get the fuck out and call in a 911. No one in the bathroom; it hadn’t been touched. Moved to the bedroom. The door was partway open. He pushed on it.
    And there was Jenna, lying on the floor. On her right side, facing away from him. Mallen went to her. There was an ugly welt on the side of her temple. Blood had seeped out of her mouth. “Jenna? Jenna? You hear me?” Checked for a pulse. Thready. “Jesus,” he said as he got up, glancing around for a phone. He found the bedroom extension and picked it up.
    â€œFreeze, asshole. Put your fucking hands on your head and turn toward me,” said a heavy male voice behind him.
    Mallen froze then, realizing that he was now living the most fucked up day of his life in recent memory. He hadn’t heard them at all, either. They must be doing some great stealth training nowadays.
    â€œDo it!” the voice barked at him. Typical cop voice, one he knew how use himself, once upon a time. He knew there would be a Glock pointed at his back, safety off. As slow as he could manage, he put his hands on his head and turned around to face the cop. There were two of them, actually. Both were young. Big and young. “Now, wait a minute, guys,” he said to them, “I just got here. Her name is Jenna Russ. I was friends with her husband­­—”
    â€œShut up. Step toward me,” the officer in front said. Mallen followed the order. “Turn around,” the cop said.
    Then he made a mistake. He later blamed it on the junk. “Now, look man, I just—” He didn’t get to finish because the second cop swooped in and spun him around to the wall. Smashed him into it. His right hand was wrenched behind him and he heard the jangled clink of the cuffs as they came out. He heard more than saw the other cop go to Jenna.
    â€œShe’s alive. I’ll get an ambulance,” he said. Pulled out his radio. Spoke into it urgently as he requested the paramedics, stat.
    â€œLook,” Mallen said, panic setting in as his other hand was cuffed. All his life as a civilian, he’d never gotten arrested. He’d always stayed as far off the radar as he possibly could. All it took for him to break out in a sweat was the mental image of him walking through booking, then to the holding tank. Maybe it’s what you need, junkie, said a quiet voice inside him. He was shocked the junkie part of him didn’t protest more. “Look,” he repeated, unable to remember ever feeling so fucking desperate, “Call Inspector Oberon Kane. He knows me. Call him, please. He’ll help straighten this