Death Stretch Read Online Free Page A

arriving car did. Detectives Johnson and Pulaski arrived on the scene.
    “So you're working Traffic Division now?” I bit my bottom lip but the gesture didn't retract my words.
    Dirk raised his eyebrows and looked to his partner. Detective Pulaski shrugged and answered. “Just lucky. We were the closest unit.”
    “We’d have stopped anyway. When a suspect or material witness is involved in any altercation, we get notified,” Dirk said.
    Mrs. Haywood gasped and spurted half a tube of antiseptic cream on my hands. She trembled and leaned away from me. “I'm sorry dear. I wouldn't have called the police if I'd known.”
    I looked her in the eyes. “Mrs. Haywood, Detective Johnson is teasing. You've known me for years. Do you really think I'm mixed up with criminals?”
    She thought about my question a beat too long. “Well, dear, I knew you and Ginger formed a club. What was it called again?” She placed a finger against her lips and tilted her head. “Oh, yes, the Dynamic Duo, wasn't it?” She chuckled. “You two did get into a fair amount of scrapes as I recall.”
    I closed my eyes against the harsh reality of former teachers and small town life.
    Against admittedly low odds, a low male voice heightened my shame. “Dynamic Duo, huh? Which one of you was Batman and which one Robin?”
    I didn't bother to correct his impression. Demonic Duo didn't have the same cache. His amusement vibrated the air but I ignored him. Well, tried to ignore him. The man had presence.
    “You didn't need to stop. I fell off my bike. No big deal.”
    Detective Johnson narrowed his eyes at me. I narrowed mine back.
    “The call was reported a hit and run.”
    “Who called it a hit and run?”
    Mrs. Haywood placed her hand on my arm. “I did, dear, remember?”
    I kept my tone airy. “Oh, you know SUV drivers. Either they think they own the road or they can't see over the dash. There was no hit . I had an accident.”
    “Was it a dark SUV?”
    “I guess so. They all look alike, but I think it had a Cadillac insignia. Why?”
    He put his hands on my shoulders and squeezed. Warmth exploded and shot down my spine.
    “Morgan Anderson drove an Escalade. His assistant reported the keys missing.”
    “Why would... Huh?”
    “I told you earlier. You need to be careful.” He released my shoulders but watched me.
    “I can take care of myself.”
    He snorted, somehow making his honk sound sexy. “Right.”
    “Yeah, right, I can.”
    He shook his head. “You're one hard-headed woman.” He motioned to Pulaski. “Let's get the bike loaded.”
    “Hey, where do you think you're going with my bicycle?”
    He pointed to the mangled frame and flat front tire. “You really think you can ride this?”
    “No,” I muttered.
    “Sorry, I didn't hear you.”
    I raised my voice to just under a shout. “I said, no.”
    “We'll give you a ride home.”
    “I can walk. I've gotten scraped up before.”
    “Hey, Matt, you ever see such a stubborn woman?”
    “Yeah, my mother, my sisters, my ex.”
    Dirk turned to me. “You're coming with us. No arguments.”
    Throughout my ordeal, Mrs. Haywood had stayed by my side. Her whisper caught my attention. “You should go after him, dear. He's quite handsome and sparks fly between you. I think it’s Kismet.”
    With that, she got to her feet, picked up her phone and first-aid supplies and scurried home. Sparks fly, my ass.
    I sprung up after her. Okay, the truth is I barely concealed my groans as I rose. My knees had escaped Mrs. Haywood’s frenzied nursing, so they didn’t sport bandages or oily antiseptic. Didn’t make the scrapes hurt less. A sore right hip and a bruised keister added to the mix.
    The two detectives loaded my battered bike into their trunk, me into their backseat and themselves into the front. We left the scene, my ego more bruised than my body. And my body was in rough shape.
    My head spun. Could this day - no, I wouldn’t ask.
    ****
    We pulled into my drive and Johnson