Dead Cold Mysteries Box Set #2: Books 5-8 (A Dead Cold Box Set) Blake Banner (read out loud books txt) 📖

“Special?” She said it as though the word had some deeper meaning and gave me the once-over again. “That’s the point. Nobody except him knew, but he did something he had never done before. He called Bob and told him this was the greatest story of his career, that he expected to get the Pulitzer for it, and that he feared his life was at risk.”

“That wasn’t in the police report.”

“What can I tell you? I didn’t edit the police report.” She winked at me and there was something infectious about her grin. “Bob asked him if he wanted to pull the plug. He said he didn’t. The story was all but finished and he’d be bringing it in any day.”

“How do you know this?”

“I wrote the story after he was killed, remember? Bob and I discussed it at length.”

“What happened to his story and his laptop?”

“I have no idea.”

“Could Bob have them?”

She looked doubtful. “And not publish the story? I don’t think so.”

I sighed. “We really need to see him. Can you…?”

“Put you in touch with him? Sure I can. But what’s in it for me?”

I felt Dehan stir and sigh noisily. Pearce ignored her and kept her smile focused on me. I blinked and said, “You don’t get charged with obstructing a police investigation.”

She raised an eyebrow and said with heavy meaning. “You’re hard, I like that in a man. I’ll tell you what, you take me out to dinner, give me an exclusive when the investigation is finished, and I’ll put you in touch with Bob Shaw and dig up anything else I can on Dave and his investigation. How does that sound?”

I gave her my sweetest smile and said, “How could I possibly say no, Ms. Pearce?”

“Shelly.”

I reached in my wallet and pulled out a card. As I handed it to her, she handed me one of hers. “Call me, John.”

I stood. “I will, John.” It was lame but she laughed. Dehan didn’t. More seriously, I said, “When can I expect to hear from you, Shelly?”

“I’ll call him in the next half hour and get back to you straight away. But I am serious, John. I expect dinner.” Again the once-over. “I am pretty sure I can help you.”

I nodded once. “We’ll be in touch.”

Dehan was silent all the way to the elevators, all the way down, and across the lobby. When we got into the street she jammed her hat on her head, pulled up her collar, and shouldered her way through the rain ahead of me. She waited by the passenger door for me to catch up, wrenched it open when I unlocked it, and slammed it hard after she’d climbed in. I got in, closed the door, and looked at her.

“What’s the matter?” She made a face and shook her head. “Stop it, Dehan. What’s got into you?”

She took her hat off, rammed it on her knee and stared at me with blazing black eyes for a long count of four. Then she said, “Nothing!”

I sighed and fired up the engine. We pulled out onto 8th Avenue and started the long, slow, wet crawl north, toward the Bronx.

Five

The call came as I was parking. My cell was on the dash. I glanced at Dehan, who was staring away from me, out at the rain, and said, “Can you get that?”

She picked it up and put it to her ear.

“Yeah.” She waited a moment with one eyebrow raised, then said, “Just a minute.”

She held out the phone without looking at me. I finished parking and took it.

“Yeah, Stone.”

“I just knew you’d answer the phone like that. I would have laid money on it. It’s Shelly.”

I smiled. “Yeah? So I’m that predictable, huh?”

I heard Dehan sigh. I looked as she climbed out of the car and slammed the door behind her. Shelly was saying, “No, not at all. You’re just butch. I like that. Listen, business before pleasure. I spoke to Bob. He says he’s happy to meet you. I am whatsapping you his number now.”

“Thanks, Shelly. I appreciate it.”

My cell bleeped and she said, “Is that it? Did it arrive?”

I checked. There was a message from her with his contact details. I put the phone back to my ear. “Yeah, I got it.”

“Okay, now, speaking of pleasure. You owe me dinner, where are you taking me?”

I laughed. “You mean I get to choose?”

“That depends.”

“On what?”

“On where you choose.”

I let the smile show in my voice. “I’m not familiar with the restaurants in Manhattan. Don’t you need to book six months in advance?”

“Unless you’re happy with Californian wine and paper napkins, yeah. Besides, I was hoping you’d chose somewhere within staggering distance of your place.”

I was surprised but didn’t let it show. “Now there’s a thought. I’ll pick you up at seven thirty.”

“I can’t wait.” Her voice was husky and appealing. It made me hesitate a moment.

“Shelly?”

“Yeah…”

“I’m a cop. If something comes up…”

“Don’t worry, honey, I know all about cops. I’ll see you at seven thirty.”

I hung up and sat for a minute staring at the blank screen. Then I climbed out and walked through the rain into the station, wiping the water from my face with my sleeve. I went to the bathroom, dried myself off, and then went to get coffee. I thought about getting one for Dehan, but with the mood she was in, she might pour it over my head. I eventually found her at our desk. She was leaning back, reading something on her laptop.

I dropped into my chair opposite and studied her for a moment. She shifted her position and moved her laptop so I couldn’t see her face.

“What’s going on, Dehan?”

“I’m reading