Sleep With the Lights On by Maggie Shayne

Author:Maggie Shayne [Shayne, Maggie]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Tags: Fiction, Suspense
Publisher: MIRA
Published: 2013-06-21T04:00:00+00:00

Body found. The W screwed up. 210 Orange.

“What’s the W?” I whispered, a beat late on the uptake. “The Wraith?”

He looked sideways at me. “Yeah.” He texted On my way and pocketed the phone. “I’ve gotta go.”

“I’m going with you.” I walked to the door on shaking legs, and grabbed my jacket and keys.

He came behind me, laying a heavy hand on my shoulder. “I can’t take you with me.”

“I didn’t ask you to. I’m driving myself. I already have the address.”

“Rachel, you could cost me my job.”

“I’m an author. A self-help author. Researching for my next book on....oh, hell, let’s say the nature of evil. I heard the address on my scanner.”

He looked around my living room. “You have a scanner?”

“No, but my sister does. Her husband’s a volunteer fireman. But I can have it here by the time anyone comes to check, should it be necessary. So let’s get going already.”

He sighed heavily, and I ran back to my sleeping bulldog, crouched low and rubbed her ears. “I’ll be back soon, Myrt. Hold down the fort, ’kay?”

She sighed, opened one eye and went back to snoring. I interpreted her commentary as Bring me back a treat or you’re on my shit list.

* * *

When Mason arrived on the scene, he saw the flashing lights of two police cruisers bathing everything in red and blue strobes. Uniforms were already there, talking to a weeping, bathrobe-clad woman on a sidewalk lined with orange carnations. Neat little saltbox house, more flowers along the front. The front door was open, but one of the uniforms was standing nearby with the yellow tape ready.

He watched Rachel de Luca pull in behind him as he parked a block up, because he wanted her bright yellow convertible out of sight. The thing was like a neon sign announcing the fact that he’d brought a civilian to a crime scene. Since she knew the address, trying to shake her would have been a waste of time, but no way was he bringing her in his car as if he’d invited her.

This had to be a copycat. Had to be. It was a relief that there was such a marked difference in this murder. Leaving the body to be found had definitely not been Eric’s M.O.

Rachel hurried to join him on the sidewalk. She’d thrown on a jacket and a baseball cap, but her hair was still wet and sticking out the back, ponytail-style. No makeup. She didn’t look like a celebrity tonight.

She looked scared.

They speed-walked past the side-by-side houses. Not real nice ones. Sagging porches loaded down with crap, like something out of Hoarders, shingle siding with missing patches, dogs on chains with about four square feet of worn-bare dirt to stand on.

Rosie was already there, standing in front of one of the nicest places on the block. Small, but neat. Well kept. He spotted them coming and came to meet them halfway.

“Mason, hey.” He sent him a questioning look as he nodded at Rachel.

“I was with her when I got the call.

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