Deadeye Read Online Free Page B

coastal Atlantica. Forest fires continued to rage unchecked in Washington State. And based on some iffy reporting, norms in India were battling mutants from China. It seemed like the whole world was fucked up. Lee sighed and turned the TV off.
    In keeping with a long-established routine, Lee dumped the empty container into the trash and put a load of laundry in the washer. Then it was time to start her
second
job—which was to find the person or persons responsible for her father’s death.
    Lee made her way back to the second bedroom. What had been her
father’s
bedroom before his death. She’d been living in her own place back then—and moved into his apartment a few days after the funeral. The theory was that maybe, just maybe, she’d find something in among Frank Lee’s effects that would help to solve his murder. That hadn’t occurred as yet, but she was determined to keep working the case until someone solved it.
    There was nothing elegant about the hasp and combination padlock on the door, the primary purpose of which was to keep Mr. Henry out. He handled maintenance for the building and was an inveterate snoop. But it was more than that. The room and everything in it was private. A window into Lee’s soul that she planned to keep closed.
    Lee entered her father’s badge number into the lock, heard the usual click, and removed the lock. The single window was blacked out, so it was dark until she flipped the track lights on. They lit walls that were covered with a mosaic of photos, diagrams, and notes. They were held in place by hundreds of multicolored pushpins. Enough pins to ruin the wall and cost her money when the time came to move out. But that would mean her father’s murderer had been found—and for that she would gladly pay.
    It wasn’t just her father, however. No,
eight
policemen and -women had been killed over a period of fourteen years, all victims of the serial killer called the Bonebreaker. A psycho who liked to dismember his victims and mail broken bones to the police.
    But
why
? The Bonebreaker had a grudge against the police department. That was obvious. But there were thousands of people who had reason to hate the LAPD. So in the absence of eyewitnesses or other evidence, the team assigned to the case was spinning its wheels. And because of her connection to a victim, Lee had been instructed to stay clear of the investigation. An order which, like so many others, she chose to ignore.
    Her father’s bed had been removed and replaced with a utilitarian worktable. As was her habit, Lee started on the left side of the room and began to circle around it. Her hope was that by scanning all of the latest bits and pieces, something would click. It didn’t.
    Acting on an impulse, she removed an old-fashioned photograph album from the shelving unit on the north wall and carried it over to the table. The technique was far from reliable, but every now and then, a random excursion into such materials served to trigger a new thought or a new line of inquiry.
    Lee opened the album and began to page through it. According to the handwritten dates, it covered the period of time just prior to the plague. There were pictures of Frank Lee posing with the departmental baseball team, standing next to his cruiser, and receiving medals. But one photo stood out. She’d seen it before, of course. Hundreds of times. But the events of the day caused her to pay more attention to it.
    Lee kept a magnifying glass on the worktable—and once she looked through it, her first impression was confirmed. Her father and a much younger Ross McGinty were in uniform. And there, standing between them, was a young woman.
    Could it be her mother? No, her mother had very dark skin, and the girl was lighter. So, who was she? The date under the photo fell after the release of the plague and the now-famous fistfight. Had the girl been involved somehow?
Who cares?
Lee thought to