Out of Control by Shannon McKenna

Author:Shannon McKenna
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Kensington Publishing Corp.
Published: 2005-06-28T16:00:00+00:00

Davy dialed Raul Gomez as they walked out to the truck. Gomez was a homicide detective in the SPD, an army buddy dating back to the days of Desert Storm. They’d worked together over the years on several successfully resolved cases. Gomez also owed him for having unmasked a predator who had targeted Gomez’s vulnerable widowed sister some years back. Between Davy and Gomez, the guy had ended up with good cause to regret his choice of prey.

“Gomez here,” came Raul’s deep voice over the phone.

“It’s McCloud,” Davy said.

“Hey. I was about to call you. About the dead guy you called in?”

“What about him?” Davy felt his neck begin to prickle.

“The autopsy’s still pending, but I just heard a weird fun fact from the morgue. The guy doesn’t have a mark on him. Not a cut, not a bruise. And yet he bled to death internally. From both ends.”

“Poor bastard,” Davy said. “It looked bad.”

Gomez grunted. “Maybe he was sick and didn’t know it, but we contacted his sister, and she said as far as she knew, he’d been fine.”

Davy waited, patient with Raul Gomez’s meandering way of getting to the real point. “What are you thinking, Raul?”

“Weird, creepy stuff. Remember that night in Baghdad years ago when you told me all those legends about Dim Mak?”

Dim Mak. Death touch. Thoughts of that had run through Davy’s head all night after seeing Wilkes’s contorted body; ancient tales of the Chinese warrior monks who could cause delayed death with a single well-placed blow, hours, days, even months later.

“It crossed my mind, too,” Davy said. “Let me know what they find. But I’ve got a question for you, too. Have you guys recently seen or heard of a platinum blond Goth girl with facial piercings, black leather, a scorpion tattoo on her neck?”

Gomez was quiet for a long moment. “What do you know about her?”

“Nothing,” Davy said. “Why do you think I’m asking you?”

Gomez grunted. “Hicks was talking about a girl who fits that description this morning. Lila Simons. Seventeen years old, from Tacoma. A runaway. She’d been on the streets since March. We’ve had her in here a couple of times for dealing Ecstasy.”

“I need to talk to her,” Davy said. “Have you got her in custody?”

Gomez hesitated. “Not exactly,” he said. “She’s in the morgue. Some kids playing in a construction site found her body this morning. Looks like an OD. It’s not my case, I just happened to overhear Hicks talking about her this morning. He’s the one who had to call her folks.”

“Oh.” The chill in Davy’s guts got sharper. “I see.”

“You got any leads for Hicks?” Gomez prodded. “It sounds like you might.”

“Not yet,” Davy hedged. “I’ll let you know as soon as I know more.”

“Huh,” Gomez sounded dubious. “Been keeping busy, huh?”

“Busy enough,” Davy said.

“I think maybe we should get together, talk about what you’ve been up to. I’m starting to get real curious about your recent activities.”

“I will,” Davy promised. “Just not today. I’m heading up to Endicott Falls this morning.

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