Saint and Scholar Read Online Free Page A

the doorway holding a little paper cup of coffee. Monroe moved out of the way and pointed the other men to the sketches.
    “That freak look familiar to you?”
    “Yeah, I know that guy. I’d remember him anywhere. I had nightmares about that jackass’s face after I saw him on the news. He out already?” Norwood took a bite of his turkey and cheese and started one-handedly inputting information into Monroe’s computer.
    “Guess so. He’s the one who witnesses saw busting into all those cars. I don’t know what he thought he was going to get. Almost no one has an aftermarket stereo at this point and most of these kids are too savvy to leave change in the cup holders and ash trays.”
    “GPS units, probably,” Tony said as he walked around to the front of the counter and put an arm around Carla’s shoulders.
    She dipped out from beneath it and muttered, “Quit it,” while narrowing her eyes to slits.
    Her brother ignored her distress and slung his heavy arm around her neck once more. “Sometimes people will take the units out of the car but leave the cord dangling, so the crooks probably figure it can’t hurt to see if they just tucked it into inside the center console.”
    “Huh,” the sergeant muttered.
    She knew it had been a long time since he’d been in the field, and he was a slow adopter of technology. Monroe was way out of the loop.
    “Car break-ins are what he got locked up for last time,” Norwood said. He turned the screen around so to display the inmate information page. The mug shot picture looked stunningly similar to her drawings, except the man in the picture had two long black braids and a neck tattoo. The witnesses probably wouldn’t have been able to see that through his black hoodie.
    “Musta got smarter,” Tony said before using his free hand to raise his coffee to his lips.   “I guess he learned to wear gloves while he was in prison, or else his prints would have turned up. I’m glad so many inmates are getting solid educations behind bars. Tax dollars are a wonderful thing.”
    Monroe grunted and picked up his phone. “Well, let’s get the city police in on it, since their jurisdiction overlaps ours. Maybe they can pick him up and see what other tricks he learned in the slammer.”
    “Great. Since I’m all done, I’ll be going.” She ducked out from Tony’s muscular arm yet again and started toward the door.
    “Hey, Miss Gill?” Norwood called.
    She turned to watch him set down his sandwich at Monroe’s desk and yank the napkin out of his collar to wipe his hands clean.
    Tony smirked and leaned onto the countertop to watch the show. She didn’t like that smirk–it had always preceded very bad things when they were kids. He knew something.
    She tried to wear her most cheerful smile and hoped the twitching corners of her mouth didn’t give her away. “Yeah?”
    “Say, listen. I saw your mom at some certification stuff last week. Nice lady. I miss working with her.”
    She arched her eyebrow up to signal Norwood to just get on with it. Tony’s smirk turned into an all-out smile. Yup. He was in on it for sure.
    “Well, she said you weren’t seeing anyone and that you’d probably like to go to a movie. Tony said he wouldn’t hurt me if I asked.”
    Her phony smile wilted at the corners, and she didn’t care if he noticed. Norwood was a nice enough guy. He always gave her a cheerful hello when she was at the substation, and he looked pretty good in the spandex bike shorts he wore as part of the bicycle patrol. Still, there was no tingle–no spark . When Grant had taken her arm earlier, she’d felt a little bit like a chocolate bar left in a hot car: melting inside her wrapper. If he could do that just by guiding her down a path…
    She swallowed hard and widened her smile. “Thanks a lot for asking, Norwood, but–”
    “Alex. Call me Alex.”
    “Oh. Alex . You’re sweet for asking, but I’m sort of tied up in projects for the next few weeks.” She cut her