The Prophecy by C. M. Deer EPUB & PDF – eBook Details Online
- Status: Available for Free Download
- Author: C. M. Deer
- Language: English
- Genre: New Adult & College Fantasy
- Format: PDF / EPUB
- Size: 2 MB
- Price: Free
Melancon,” an officer said in greeting as Landry stepped under the
bright yellow police tape onto the crime scene. The busted old hotel
off the main drag smelled and looked worse for wear – it didn’t look like
the type of place that could afford a private investigator. “A little early to
call the vultures in, isn’t it?” the Officer added.
Landry squinted at the officer, recognizing him in the vague way he
recognized the entire Bossier City police force. The officer’s name evaded
him, and it was too late to wipe the confused look off his face and the other
man knew it. The officer frowned, patting the front of his uniform. “Me
Velor, you Melancon,” he said, pantomiming Tarzan. “Just fucking with
you,” replied Landry. Velor rolled his eyes, falling into step beside him.
“We have a name yet?” Landry asked the cop.
“Yeah,” said Velor, fidgeting with his phone. “Champ Holdman, out of
New Orleans. You know him?” he asked.
“Do I look like a guy who would know a Champ?” he asked. He hated
the buddy-buddy way some of the police officers took with him. He knew it
was because they wanted to know how he did it – they wanted to know his
secret. He supposed it was better than the ones who treated him like
absolute shit and tried to hide details of the case to test him. Velor was at
least tolerable, if not obnoxious.
Nothing about Landry would suggest he knew a guy named Champ.
Champ was the name of country clubs and golf courses, and Landry
wouldn’t have been caught dead in a polo. Even now, while on the job, his
dark blue jeans barely concealed steel toe boots. His white shirt was fitted
and damp with sweat under the light blazer he wore. His dark black hair
was cut close on the sides and combed tight on top, hiding the fact that it
was naturally kinky. He removed his sunglasses from his face as he stepped
into the motel room, revealing dark brown eyes and a perpetual five o’clock
shadow on his dark olive skin. He’d spent his entire youth being ostracized
and villainized by his coven, so he’d decided to embrace it as an adult.
Even the police officers, who wouldn’t know magic if it hit them in the
face, gave him a wide berth.
Inside the motel, the forensics team was finishing up. Landry nodded to
them – none of them returned the gesture. On the bed lay the body of
Champ, face down, too much blood to support life staining the sheets and
comforter.
“Slit his throat,” Velor said, nodding to the body. He dragged his finger
across his throat to illustrate the point. “Some weird shit here,” he added,
nodding then to the bags in the corner.
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