Burned Read Online Free Page B

And you shot her in return for her loyalty and hard work . I held on to my fury. It was better than diving into the grief.
    “Most cases go cold in forty-eight hours, but not this one. Not for me. It stays hot. I’m going to find the guy and his partner, and I will bring them to justice.”
    “An accomplice?” Vincent snorted. “How do you know? You can’t find him— you can’t even find some guy who got hit by a car.”
    “We have video.”
    “Of the hit and run?”
    “Of the fire.”
    My heart slammed against my ribs.
    “And I saw the hit and run. I never forget how perps move, Mr. Pyra. It’s the same guy, and I’m going to find him. Bring him to justice.”
    How I’d moved the night of the fire was no longer how I moved now. Back then I was a girl. Now I was living life as a boy. Girls move from the hips. Guys from the shoulders. My run-in with the gangbanger must’ve made me forget my training. One stupid mistake, and Meena had me in her sights. I stopped breathing and hoped Vincent would keep control.
    “What kind of video?”
    Way to go, Vincent. Way to stay in control .
    “Now you’re interested?”
    “Because I think you’re full of fertilizer.”
    “YouTube. Someone taped the fire. Isn’t it great living in the modern age? Private citizens tape crimes, and thanks to Google Alerts, I get updates on anything I’m interested in. And I’m very interested in the fire and this guy.”
    “Video, huh? Let me see.”
    Nice play, Vincent . I kept wiggling my fingers and used the memory of my dead family as a painkiller for my screaming muscles.
    “Sure.” Confidence was in Meena’s voice. “Give me your phone.”
    “Nice try. Do it on yours.”
    There was silence, and I guessed she was calling up the YouTube video.
    “You can’t tell much,” Vincent said after a minute. “That could be anybody.”
    “It’s a clue.” The words slithered from her mouth. “I don’t like unsolved cases. And I don’t like men who murder women and children.”
    God, I wanted to vomit.
    On her.
    Poor Emily. A street kid I’d befriended during one of my volunteer stints. She’d educated me about life on the streets. I’d convinced her to come off them, to get into the system. She’d been at my house that night to sleep over. We were going to find her a social worker the next day. If she hadn’t been there that night, they wouldn’t have mistaken her body for mine. She’d be alive, and I’d be dead. My mom’s trust in Meena may have gotten her and Danny killed. But Emily’s death was all on me.
    “Your friend isn’t a good guy.” The chair squeaked. Probably her standing up.
    “I don’t have friends like that, but even if I did, he can’t be that much of a threat. After all, you came to my apartment alone.”
    “The boys are outside. He’s a bad guy.” She paused. “But I’m dangerous.” Another pause. “Not just to him.”
    I imagined her staring Vincent down.
    “I’m deadly to anyone who gets in my way. We have officers canvassing the apartments. He murdered a six-year-old boy, shot him down—”
    It took everything in me to stay quiet. For the first time, I was grateful for the coffin I was trapped in, because it was the only thing keeping me upright.
    “—every cop in Vancouver wants him. He did a good job of trying to stay out of the cameras,” she said, “but we know where all the convicts live. It’s a matter of when not if we’ll get him. If he’s your friend—”
    “Told you. I’m not friends with murderers.”
    “—tell him to surrender. No one wants a shootout.”
    Late at night, hunkered in a cardboard box and watching the rain turn my hut into sludge, I’d occasionally wondered if I’d done the right thing in never going to other cops and telling my story. Hearing her talk about killing me in plain sight… yeah, I’d made the right decision.
    “Do the right thing, Mr. Pyra.” The door opened, closed.
    A few minutes later Vincent cracked the lock, and I