Jagged by (FOUR POINT UNIVERSE #15) Max Ellendale EPUB & PDF – eBook Details Online
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- Authors: Max Ellendale
- Language: English
- Genre: contemporary romance
- Format: PDF / EPUB
- Size: 2.4 MB
- Price: Free
“They called her Protein Heather ’cause she spent most of her days in the
yoga studio wearin’ leggings and preachin’ about the benefits of plantbased protein.”
I stared at the woman in front of me as she sucked on the sloppy end of a
rain-dampened cigarette. She propped her elbow on the arm she lazily left
draped across her middle.
“Protein Heather…” I repeated. “That’s the only recollection you have of
the victim.”
“Protein Heather.” When she said Heather, it sounded more like Heathuh. She drew deeply on the stick and glanced at me. “That’s what I got. Not
easy to forget. You got my dime?”
“You think that information is worth me dropping money in your palm,
Bernice?” I folded my arms over my chest and cocked a brow at her. “Do
you even know me?”
“I know you wan’cha information an’ I gave it to ya.” A frown met her
edentulous mouth. “Fork it over.”
“Give me something to go on first.”
“Protein Heath-uh!” Bernice waved her arms wildly as her frustration
grew. “It’s what I got.”
“It’s not anything at all. Where did she hang out? Who were her friends?
How can you call yourself the mayor of the park and not know everything
about everyone you people-watch all day?” I whined at her, dramatically
and ridiculously, in the way that always seemed to shock her into calming
down.
“That’s what I got an’ I ain’t got nothin’ more.” She turned her nose in the
air and snorted.
“Well, then neither do I.” I flicked the brim of my ballcap and turned on
my heel.
Bernice said nothing as I headed off down the street in the familiar
stalemate that’d snared both of us in our usual way. She’d crack eventually,
and I’d get the long-sought information in no time at all.
I returned to the station not long after with nothing save for a cold soda
gripped in my palm and a hot pretzel between my teeth. A few of the
uniformed officers nodded to me as I trudged past on my trek down to my
office—the farthest one in the building. In my near-decade on the job, Cold
Cases always landed in the farthest recesses of the unit. Part of the perks of
the job belonged to the quieter digs of the back office. The only person I
saw on a daily basis this far out was a shy Criminal Intelligence Analyst
named Rosie. We never spoke, but we always shared a nod or wave in our
crossings.
“Did you bring me one?”
“Nope.” I hopped up to sit on the desk where my partner in anti-crime
took up space. “Did you bring me coffee this morning? No. You didn’t and
so I get to eat this mustard covered ball of bread all by myself.”
“Asshat.” Zay rolled his eyes at me. “I’m starving. Did Bernice talk to
you?”
“Barely—you have ketchup on your I.D. tag, by the way. Zay-splat is
now your name.” I pointed at it, and he smacked my hand away to swipe at
it with a napkin. “How many hotdogs did you eat, today?”
“Four. That truck out front is deadly.” He snorted at me. “How many
pretzels did you eat?”
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