Dead Dogs and Englishmen Read Online Free

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    Officer Omar Winston, also from Gaylord—a little guy I had trouble liking—stood beside Brent with his hands crossed over his pants zipper, feet wide apart, his shaven head settled down into thick shoulders, like a turtle. Omar Winston rarely smiled. And rarely was he more than minimally polite. He kept his almost lidless round eyes firmly on the world around him, ready to take on any and all miscreants and reporters—whichever gave him the most trouble. Dolly said she thought he was a good guy, but then Dolly stood up for all cops, at all times, and in all places. I’d had a couple of run-ins with Winston and they hadn’t been pleasant. He was an unattractive man with a snarly face and a sycophantic way with officers ranked above him. If he’d shuffled along instead of marching, if he’d been just a little more self effacing, he’d have made a perfect Barkis, a character from David Copperfield. Ahhh but, Barkis is willing. Yes, Barkis is willing. Though I liked Dickens’s Barkis, this one annoyed me.
    â€œAnybody check out those turkey buzzards in the back?” I asked, to a round of startled and incredulous cop faces.
    â€œWhat the hell, Miss Kincaid, we’ve got our hands full right here.” This from little Omar Winston. I noticed his left cheek was ticking away. That was what I liked best about the guy, that I made him nervous.
    â€œI just thought … they’re back there. Could be something …”
    Brent turned from talking in low tones with the coroner. He sighed. “Dolly, maybe you and Emily should go take a look. They were out there when we got here. Nothing like checking—be on the safe side. Let Emily get a couple of pictures of the house. But keep her out of the way of the investigating officers, all right?” He turned to me. “No disrespect, Emily. Just, you know, don’t want some lawyer saying we let you foul up the crime scene when this comes to court.”
    I nodded. I knew the drill.
    Dolly looked at me, her face bunched with distaste. She wasn’t happy being sent off to check on birds, but she was a good soldier, did as she was told, dragging me out of the house and around to the back where those birds still circled.
    In the yard, as I leaned against a broken clothes pole half-fallen in the weeds, I asked Dolly if Lieutenant Brent was leaving her in charge and if I should call her for updates.
    Her eyes brightened for the first time though there seemed to be something missing there. She toed an ancient pile of rags on the ground. “Yup. We got our reciprocal agreement on cases like this. Though sometimes you wouldn’t know it, the way those state boys throw their weight around. Chief Barnard says to make sure we hold on to this one. We’ll get forensics through them, but that’s about all.” Her little face drew in with distaste. “They know who’s got near a 100 percent solve rate on murders over here. I’m not pushing it in their faces, mind you. But it’s out there. I’m doin’ a damned good job.” She hesitated, then added a grudging, “With a little of your help.”
    I smiled.
    â€œI think you’ve got everything we got, so far.” She pushed off. “Give me a call later. I’ll let you know if we get anything on the victim. Could be some migrant grudge playing out here. She looks Mexican. Maybe somebody’s girlfriend. You know, a jealous fight. Something like that. But then … we don’t know. Wouldn’t be a bad idea to visit a few of the orchards and farms that employ Mexican workers. But don’t put anything about that in your story.” She snapped her head up, realizing she was thinking out loud. “I’ll let you know what you can print.”
    She took one big sniff and went back to business, striding off over the overgrown farm field toward the woods.
    The birds were still there, graceful shadows against a