Repressed: An Ash Park Novel (Volume 3) by O'Flynn Meghan

Author:O'Flynn, Meghan [O'Flynn, Meghan]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9780997465150
Google: ca8_DwAAQBAJ
Publisher: Pygmalion Publishing
Published: 2016-12-08T23:00:00+00:00

25

Maybe the tattoo parlor was the same, but it could have been the first time he’d ever seen it. The white door that had seemed so clean yesterday was now blank and dead, the pale face of a corpse when the blood pooled on the underside of the body. The bright and cheery pictures of potential tattoos now seemed sullen and morose, offended at his gaze. Even the yin-yang, white and black surrounded in vibrant blues and greens, burst forth with such rage that Morrison half expected it to leap from the wall, teeth bared.

Drake paced behind the counter, his hands clasped behind his back. From the couch inside the door, a woman with green hair and arms sleeved in wildflower tattoos appraised them. When Petrosky flashed his badge, she stood and extended her hand.

“I’m Jenny.”

“Detective Petrosky.” She looked at Morrison, but he couldn’t find his tongue—he was watching a freckle-faced little girl coming through the back curtain to stand next to Drake, rubbing her eyes. Bib overalls. Blond hair, maybe what Jenny’s hair would look like without the dye.

“I’ve got some things for you to look at,” Jenny said and moved with the light steps of a dancer to stand beside her husband and the girl. “Go finish your homework, baby,” she said and patted the girl’s shoulder, so kind. The girl scampered off.

Morrison watched her go, heart wrenching, and when he pictured Evie as she might look at that age, the wound in his heart expanded like a black hole, widening as if each and every breath he took enhanced its emptiness.

Jenny reached beneath the front counter and produced a folder, manila like jaundiced skin, containing a photograph-quality sketch: a man with scraggly brown hair and a thin mouth. Squirrelly. Despite the light hue of his beady eyes, the man’s gaze was blank—dead, vile. Zachary Reynolds’s attacker. Their pedophile. But Drake was right—it was far better quality than the composite.

Petrosky pulled the sheet closer to him, and Morrison laid his folder on the counter, showing her the photos of the Clown Alley Freaks fans. Drake and Jenny both leaned close to examine them, eyebrows furrowed. Petrosky did too, glancing back and forth from the mug shots to the picture Jenny had drawn. Heads shook. They flipped through the entire stack.

“Nothing?” Morrison asked.

“Sorry, I don’t see anyone familiar,” Jenny said. Drake nodded agreement, shrugging his shoulders like it was no big fucking deal that Morrison was no closer to finding his starving baby girl while Drake’s own daughter was happy and safe in the back room.

Morrison tossed the sheets back into the folder, stepped back, and dumped the whole mess into the trash can with enough force that the wire basket shook, stuttering and rocking, before settling with a clang. He clenched his fist, trying not to kick the thing over.

“Sorry, man,” Drake said, and Morrison could hear the tension in his voice. Petrosky stood like a bulldog, ready to block the path to the counter if Morrison should prove to be unstable.

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.