I'll Never Let You Go (Morgans of Nashville) Read Online Free

through the building’s patchwork roof and cast eerie slashes of light across the cement floor. An animal scurried across the floor.
    “It’s what I found near the victim.” The two moved toward a midsize, worn brown leather bag.
    “Looks like a tool kit,” Alex said.
    “Might be. I’m guessing it belongs to our guy.”
    Alex knelt and studied the case’s weathered exterior. Inside it looked as if it had once held wrenches, screwdrivers, and an assortment of other items but now was empty. Deke wouldn’t have mentioned the bag without reason. “Has this been photographed?”
    “And dusted for prints.”
    With a gloved hand, he reached inside the case and, in a side pocket, found a 9mm Beretta. “He stashes the bag and gun in the corner.”
    “He wasn’t expecting trouble, or he had another gun on him that was taken.”
    Alex glanced back at the charred body. “I’d say trouble found him.”
    Deke rubbed his chilled hands together, seeming to replay the crime in his head. “Company shoots him. Strips the body and cuts off head, hands, and feet. Sets the torso on fire.”
    “Nothing to identify the victim.” A lot of trouble to go to for a homeless guy.
    Deke squatted in front of the bag and shined the light inside. “There’s a card tucked in the side pocket. Easy to miss the first time.”
    Alex fished through the pocket until his fingers brushed the dog-eared card. He pulled it up into Deke’s light. The card read D EIDRE J ONES , P OLICE O FFICER , N ASHVILLE P OLICE D EPARTMENT . “What the hell.”
    Deke read the card. “Shit. What’s her card doing here?”
    “You called me about Jones last week. Wanted me to do some digging. Think she’s skimming money. But you gave me her rank as detective. This is an old card. This guy knew her from the past.”
    “That’s my guess.”
    “Could he have been a confidential informant?”
    “Maybe.” Deke allowed his gaze to drift. “Keep talking.”
    “The two had a meet. This guy gets shot and dismembered. You think Jones could have shot him?”
    “A cop would know how to make an identification difficult. And this is going to be a difficult identification unless we’ve got DNA for a cross-check.”
    Alex had dug only a little into Deidre Jones’s past and work life. What he had learned so far was that she was smart. She closed a lot of cases and was well respected.
    Deke shifted his stance. “You’d think she’d also have the sense to search the area first. Sanitize it completely.”
    “Jones has been with the Nashville Police Department for eight years. Top in her class at the academy. Worked as a uniformed officer for four years before being promoted to detective. Impressive closure rate. Good cop by all appearances. But that’s skimming the surface.” Alex sifted through more Deidre Jones facts. “She’s in tremendous shape. Organized a marathon training group. Well liked. I considered joining the group but decided against it. These days when I show up, people clam up. I’m trying to make friends with a member of Jones’s running group.”
    “Make friends?”
    “Miracles do happen.” Alex’s waking hours were spent working, and the one or two folks he called friends dated back to middle school. “She’s recently separated from her husband. Divorce wasn’t friendly.”
    Deke grunted. “Which ones are?”
    “You should know.”
    Deke absently rubbed his thumb against his naked ring finger. “Two divorces is my limit.”
    “You have two strikes already so does that mean you’re not getting married again or divorced again?”
    “Divorced again.” Deke shoved his hand in his pocket. “I asked Rachel to marry me.”
    “And?”
    “She’s chewing on it.” Deke and defense attorney Rachel Wainwright had been living together for almost a year and a half.
    “She’s a lawyer. They weigh all the options.”
    “That’s what worries me. On paper, I don’t look like a winning horse.”
    Alex noted the rising and unexpected worry