Night Sins Read Online Free Page A

of police in the town that would be her base of operations was not a good beginning.
    “Should have made the appointment for tomorrow, O'Malley,” she muttered, climbing out of her car, struggling with what seemed to be twenty yards of gray woolen scarf.
    The scarf was like a python twisting itself around her neck, around her arm, around the handle of her briefcase. She snatched at it and pulled at it, cursing under her breath as she made her way across the skating rink that passed for a parking lot behind the Deer Lake city hall and law enforcement center. Getting hold of the end of the scarf, she flung it hard over her shoulder—and threw herself off balance. Instantly, her feet went out from under her and she scrambled in a mad tap dance to keep from going down. The heels of the boots she had chosen to give herself the illusion of height acted like skate blades instead of cleats. She danced another five feet toward the building, then fell like a sack of bricks, landing with teeth-rattling impact smack on her fanny. The pain shot up her spine from her butt to her brain and rang there like a bell.
    For a moment Megan just sat there with her eyes squeezed shut, then the cold began to penetrate through the seat of her black wool trousers. She looked around the parking lot for witnesses. There were none. The afternoon had been crushed beneath the weight of darkness. Five o'clock had come and gone; most of the office personnel had already left for the day. Chief Holt was probably gone as well, but she wanted it on the log that she
had
shown up for their appointment. Three hours late, but she had shown.
    “I hate winter,” she snarled, gathering her legs beneath her, and rose with little grace and confidence, slipping, stumbling, finally grabbing hold of a car door to steady herself. “I
hate
winter.”
    She would rather have been anywhere south of the snow belt. It didn't matter that she had been born and raised in St. Paul. A love for arctic temperatures was not part of her genetic makeup. She had no affinity for down jackets. Wool sweaters made her break out in a rash.
    If it hadn't been for her father, she would have been long gone to friendlier climes. She would have taken the FBI assignment that had been offered when she'd been at the academy in Quantico. Memphis. People in Memphis didn't even know what winter was. Snow was an event in Memphis. Their thermometers probably didn't have numbers below zero. If they'd ever heard the words
Alberta clipper,
they probably thought it was the name of a boat, not a weather system that brought wind-chill factors cold enough to freeze marrow in the bones of polar bears.
    I stay here for you, Pop.
    As if he cared.
    The teeth of the headache bit a little harder.
    The Deer Lake City Center was new. A handsome V-shaped two-story brick building, it testified to the growing tax base brought about by professional people moving out from the Cities. The town was just within commuting distance of the south end of the metro area. With crime and crowding on the rise in Minneapolis and St. Paul, those who could afford to and didn't mind the drive sought out the quaint charm of places like Deer Lake, Elk River, Northfield, Lakefield.
    The city offices were housed in the south wing of City Center, the police department and the office of the late lamented Leo Kozlowski in the north, with the city jail on the second floor. Additional jail facilities were available across the town square in the old Park County courthouse and law enforcement center, where the county sheriff's offices and the county jail were located.
    Once inside the building, Megan hung a left and marched down the wide hall, ignoring the pretty atrium with its skylights and potted palms and pictorial history of Deer Lake. Catching a glimpse of her reflection in the glass of a wall-mounted display case, she winced a little. She looked as if she'd just pulled a gunnysack off her head. That morning—seemed like a month ago—she had