Dan Sharp Mysteries 4-Book Bundle Read Online Free

wouldn’t grieve he resented, as though they’d made his work a failure, like a fireman saving a burning building only to learn it had been condemned. He hated futility — the feeling that his work amounted to nothing. “No return” was unacceptable.
    In the course of his investigations, Dan was meticulous. A missing person’s past was like a shadow thrown against a curtain, all outline and little detail. Sometimes the smallest point was the telling one. He thought of the junior who’d missed out on the word bog . The mistake was understandable, but it was sloppy work all the same. Know thoroughly the nature of what you’re being asked to investigate and then look for the unexpected — that was Dan’s modus operandi. It was the only way to find the missing, especially if they didn’t want to be found.
    He stopped and took another pull from the bottle, then settled in again. He brought up the last file and glanced at the overview. He didn’t have to read far. Why anyone was surprised when abused teenagers ran away, Dan couldn’t imagine. The fourteen-year-old, Richard Philips, had left his home in Oshawa following an argument with his mother and stepfather. The photograph showed a dark-haired teenager with wary eyes and a pouting mouth. Dan wondered who’d taken the shot.
    The details were predictable. Richard’s problems had started when he was twelve, not long after his mother remarried to a man who never got along with her son. According to his mother, her son had been picked on at school. More importantly, he had sexuality issues. Richard’s stepfather threatened him after police nabbed him hanging around a gay cruising area. The boy disappeared two weeks later when the same officer picked him up again.
    Dan sat back. He could easily imagine some sadistic homophobe getting his jollies by fucking with the kid’s nascent sex drive. At that age, it was hard enough to accept yourself for what you were. To have bullying cops, taunting classmates, and a narrow-minded stepfather harassing you might prove too much for some kids. Running away was one solution. Suicide was the other.
    The report carried the usual protestations by the mother and stepfather: they’d given their son everything and didn’t understand how he’d become someone they barely knew — angry, resentful, and gay. The first two were usually easy to explain when the history was examined. The third wasn’t something you could rationalize to distraught parents, especially the ones who wanted to justify their actions: threats and beatings, doors locked at midnight to teach a lesson to the habitual latecomer and rule-breaker. Self-justification was one thing, but how did you forgive yourself if you locked your door and your kid ended up dead? It happened. Ask Lesley Mahaffey’s parents.
    Dan looked at his watch — nearly time. He closed the file on the teenage runaway and went downstairs to see what Ked had done to prepare for his party.

Two
    Modern Jazz
    Ked was asleep in a chair next to the barbecue. Donny and Dan sat across from one another. The remains of a food platter, a dozen empty beer bottles, and a half-eaten birthday cake sat on the table between them. Coloured lanterns threw shadows around the deck. Sleepy nighttime jazz seeped from the speakers and wafted through the backyard.
    Donny blew a smoke ring. “This Marsalis?”
    “You got it,” Dan said. “Is he hot or cool?”
    “I’m not sure he’s either,” Donny answered. “Wynton plays like a white boy. I put him in the same category as Chet Baker.”
    Dan’s face was a question mark. “Are you saying that because he plays classical?”
    “Not at all. I think Marsalis is a dynamite classical player. Except for that number two Brandenburg where he sounds like a synthesizer. It’s his jazz I have a problem with. It’s too stiff and intellectual.”
    “You don’t like Chet either? He’s got great tone.”
    Donny took a drag worthy of Bette Davis then stubbed out the