Creatures of Appetite Read Online Free

not to bother him again.”
    “Yeah, he does that, too. Anything else?”
    “At Quantico it was said that Thorne burned out on the Mercy Killings and had to retire, that’s what the word was.”
    “He burned, but I don’t know that I would characterize it as a burning out, but he definitely burned something, especially a lot of bridges. No, he may have crashed but he sure as hell didn’t burn out. Don’t let the retirement fool you, the day he left he was still as sharp as a fucking tack, I doubt he’s lost anything in his game.
    “But even if it were true and he did burn out, it would be hard to blame him for that, because the Mercy Killings is the biggest pain in the balls case this country has ever had. More than a few good men have burned out on that twisted fucking cocksucker already, burned out and then some.”
    It was a curious thing to say and Kane wanted to ask him to explain further, but something in Viera’s tone cautioned her against it. It was also, she noted, the very first time Viera cursed in front of her, not casual polite cursing either, but the true blue coarse language favored by cops everywhere.
    Serious cursing was an act usually avoided by your average federal officer who, in their dry-cleaned dark jackets, ironed white shirts and dark ties, were courteous and polite to the point of obscenity itself. This was their history since Hoover, and Kane had yet to meet a fed who swore like a good cop can, especially a fed as high up on the food chain in the Bureau as Peter Viera.
    When she first met Viera, Kane thought he had the air of a tough high school principal, the kind of disciplinarian that came down hard on unruly behavior yet could be counted on as a dependable shoulder to lean on when real trouble arrived. Now Kane realized that she couldn’t have been more mistaken.
    “The Mercy Killings,” Viera said, looking Kane right in the eye, “is a fucking national disaster and that may even be understating the situation, but it didn’t burn Thorne out. And don’t ask me anything regarding that case, I couldn’t tell you even if I wanted to.”
    Viera must have read her mind, because Kane would have loved to gotten some dirt on the Mercy Killings. The one thing cops liked to do more than curse was gossip, especially about the Mercy Killings, the most sensational serial killer in the history of the form with over two hundred victims across the country. The whole world was watching, waiting to see where he’d strike next.
    “Keep in mind,” Viera said, “you’re working on the Heartland Child Murders, that’s what you requested, that’s why you are here. Don’t waste a minute thinking about the Mercy Killer, that’s my problem. I want you eating, sleeping and shitting one thing and one thing only, the Heartland Child Murders. That is the single solitary object on your plate. Are we clear on that?”
    “We’re very clear,” Kane replied.
    “It better be. Now I want to tell you a few things about Jacob Thorne. He’s an arrogant, touchy bastard. That’s what I think and I like him more than anyone else in the Bureau. He’s never been a cop, came straight into the Bureau from college and drifted over into Behavioral Sciences mainly because it was new at the time and he couldn’t get along with anyone anywhere else. Behavioral Sciences was what they called that division in the beginning, they later changed the name to Investigative Support Unit primarily because everyone kept referring to it as the BS Unit, bullshit central, which drove the elders nuts. Thorne did really well there in spite of himself. He’d be running ISU if he could just get along with people.
    “He pushes buttons on everyone, and usually the wrong ones, just for the hell of it. He’s not a shrink, he’s not a forensic scientist, thinks police procedure is a waste of time and that he’s a lot fucking smarter than anyone else. He might even be right about the last one. He’s a legend for a reason, Kane,