Dexter’s Final Cut by Jeff Lindsay EPUB & PDF – eBook Details Online
- Status: Available for Free Download
- Authors: Jeff Lindsay
- Language: English
- Genre: Murder
- Format: PDF / EPUB
- Size: 2 MB
- Price: Free
IT ALL STARTED SO PEACEFULLY, JUST A FEW SHORT WEEKS AGO, on a lovely day
in early autumn.
I had driven in to work as I always did, through the happy carnage
that is rush hour in Miami. It had been a bright and pleasant day: sun
shining, temperature in the seventies, the other drivers cheerfully
honking their horns and screaming death threats, and I’d steered
through it with a blissful feeling of belonging.
I had pulled into a spot in the parking lot at police HQ, still
completely unaware of the lurking terror that awaited me, and
carefully carried a large box of doughnuts into the building and up to
the second floor. I’d arrived at my desk punctually, at my usual time.
And I made it all the way into a seated position in my chair, a cup of
vile coffee in one hand and a jelly doughnut in the other, before I
ever for a moment suspected that today would be anything other than
one more day of peaceful routine among the newly dead of Our Fair
City.
And then the phone on my desk began to buzz, and because I was
stupid enough to answer it, everything changed forever.
“Morgan,” I said into the receiver. And if I’d known what was
coming I would not have said it so cheerfully.
Someone on the other end made a throat-clearing noise, and with a
jolt of surprise I recognized it. It was the sound Captain Matthews
made when he wanted to call attention to the fact that he was about
to make an important pronouncement. But what momentous
declaration could he possibly have now, for me, before I even finished
one doughnut, and why would he speak it on the phone to a mere
forensics wonk?
“Ahem, uh, Morgan,” the captain said. And then there was silence.
“This is Morgan,” I said helpfully.
“There’s a, um,” he said, and cleared his throat again. “I have a
special assignment. For you. Can you come up to my office? Right
now,” he said. There was another slight pause, and then, most
baffling of all, he added, “Uh. Please.” And then he hung up.
I stared at the phone for a long moment before I replaced it in its
cradle. I was not sure what had just happened, or what it meant:
“Come up to my office right now”? Captains do not hand out special
assignments to blood-spatter analysts, and we do not visit captains’
offices socially, either. So what was this about?
My conscience was clean—most mythical objects are—but I felt a
small twinge of unease anyway. Could this be trouble—perhaps a
confrontation over some emerging evidence of my Wicked Ways? I
always cleaned up thoroughly—No Body Part Left Behind!—and in
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