Worst In Show: A Jamie Bravo Mystery by Layce Gardner & Saxon Bennett

Worst In Show: A Jamie Bravo Mystery by Layce Gardner & Saxon Bennett

Author:Layce Gardner & Saxon Bennett [Gardner, Layce & Bennett, Saxon]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Square Pegs Ink
Published: 2015-09-28T17:00:00+00:00


The real problem with mug shots is there are so many. London sets me up in an interrogation room with the table piled high with mug shot books. I whizz through the first five piles of books then lose speed. It’s a daunting task—like looking for a mole in a haystack. The mole didn’t turn out to be the jackpot I thought it’d be. To make matters worse I keep getting distracted by scars and tats and all kinds of strange distinguishing characteristics. No wonder most of these people went into a life of crime—it must be next to impossible to get a good job with misspelled words tattooed on your neck.

And somebody needs to do something about the quality of these photos. The lighting is horrible. Nobody can look good in a mug shot. Not even Robert Downey, Jr.

I close book number thirty-six and rub my eyes. It’s hard to tell which hurts worse, my eyes or my butt. I stand up and stretch. Maybe Mr. Mole won’t be in the books. He could be new to a life of crime. Now that I think about it, I can’t imagine a hardened criminal resorting to dognapping. That is more like an entry-level crime. Even criminals have to start somewhere, right?

There is a quick knock at the door and London pops her head in. “I brought you some lousy coffee. I figured you should experience the entire spectrum of police life.”

“Really? I thought bad coffee was just a television thing, you know, to add color to the show,” I say.

“Check it out for yourself,” London says. She sits in the chair nearest me.

I sit back down and eye the Styrofoam cup filled with black tar. It doesn’t even look like it’s in liquid form.

London chuckles and tosses three packets of sugar and four packets of instant creamer on the table. “You’ll be wanting these. Believe me, it helps.”

I test-sip the coffee, almost gag, and grab the condiments. “Yikes, that is nasty. But right now I need it. Thanks for thinking of me.” I hope that didn’t sound too needy. I don’t want her to think I’m some kind of pansy who can’t even deal with looking through a stack of mug shots.

“So how’s it going?” London asks.

I sigh. “I had no idea Lakeland has so many criminals.”

“Yeah, it sure doesn’t do much for one’s faith in the inherent goodness of mankind.” She pulls a stack of the books in front of her. “I’ll look through these.”

“Don’t you have other work to do?” I ask. Then I quickly amend, “I mean, I want your help, but I don’t want to take up all your time or anything.”

She shrugs. “This is work. Besides I’m a dog lover. I’ve got two mutts at home. They’re ugly and slobber a lot, but they’ve outlasted three of my girlfriends.”

I flip a page in the book, careful to keep my eyes averted as I ask, “So you’re single then?”

“Aren’t all cops?”

“I thought that was a myth too.



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