Murder On Magazine by Julie Smith

Author:Julie Smith [Smith, Julie]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: mystery, New Orleans, Skip Langdon series, police procedural, female sleuth, women sleuths, Edgar winner, female cop, noir, New Orleans noir
ISBN: 9780997363098
Publisher: booksbnimble
Published: 2018-03-16T05:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER TWELVE

First Miguel’s death and Lloyd’s arrest, then, barely a day later, during her nice January “barbecue,” Abasolo’s phone call. Sometimes it seemed like one step backward for every step forward. The Whale was on the move again.

Skip couldn’t believe what she was looking at. Or rather she didn’t want to. She didn’t even want to be a cop today. She wanted to walk time back and arrange to be out of the country so she wouldn’t have to see this. Because it was ugly and terrifying and heralded so many more bad things she felt her throat close and nausea roil her stomach.

There were two bodies in the little house, but that wasn’t what was causing the waves of fear and horror that were currently washing over her. It was on a bedroom wall:

“Blackass bitch spicaninny snigger mexcrement batman diaperhead BMO.”

“The whale, for sure,” Abasolo said. “We’re fucked.”

“Yeah. It’s starting.”

It was obvious to both of them: the wannabe serial killer who’d first attacked the dog and then the pink-haired girl— and probably killed Benjamin Solo— had now achieved his goal. He’d embarked on a killing spree that wasn’t going to stop until they got him.

Skip’s stomach turned over again, thinking how many people could be in danger, how much panic could ensue— and how much responsibility she had.

“What do you bet it’s like before?” Abasolo said. “The lady in the bed—” he gestured with his head “—will be a hooker and the gentleman out there will turn out to be her pimp, who rented this place through Airbnb?”

“Not taking that bet,” she said, barely able to get the words out. “Anyway, we already know it’s Airbnb.” She’d worked a serial case once before. It sucked.

Evidently seeing her distress, Abasolo kept talking. “He really did a number on her.”

Her skin was flayed and clearly had bled in some places. Her body looked misshapen around the ribcage, like a rubber doll someone had squeezed and broken. Broken. That was how she looked.

She was small and this time undeniably African-American— possibly more his ideal victim than the pink-haired girl. The man on the floor in the living room looked as if he could have been mideastern— if so, representing another of this creep’s prejudices. If you called it a prejudice when someone was killing members of minority groups he didn’t like. And if that was what was happening here. Once again Skip wondered, as she had that day in the yoga studio— were these hate crimes? Surely that couldn’t be the whole story! Hate killers could be mass murderers, but serial killers had a special psychology— and one much different from the perpetrators of hate crimes. Or so she’d always thought.

Hearing steps in the hall, she turned to see who was coming. “Hey, y’all,” said Permelia Read. “This is a cute place.”

It was. It was one of the oh-so-contemporary restorations happening all over town right now, particularly in the Second District— a double shotgun that had been gutted and turned into a welcoming single with an open floor plan and plenty of Cararra marble in the kitchen.

Download

Copyright Disclaimer:
This site does not store any files on its server. We only index and link to content provided by other sites. Please contact the content providers to delete copyright contents if any and email us, we'll remove relevant links or contents immediately.